GUNS & ROSES | ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ

xv. ✓

𝒙𝒗.

Seungcheol led me to the end of the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his thoughts. Deep furrows etched his forehead, evidence of the burden he carried.

Without a word, he gestured for me to take a seat on the Victorian sofa positioned near the large sliding glass window. Beyond the window, a balcony extended outward, overlooking a world bathed in twilight hues.

He slumped onto the bed, exhaustion emanating from every fiber of his being. I curled up on the sofa, resting my chin on my knees as I observed him. Silence draped the room, thick and suffocating, as we both grappled with our own inner turmoil.

"Seungcheol?" I called out softly, my voice barely above a whisper, yet loud enough to reach his ears.

His arm shifted, covering his eyes, shielding himself from the world.

"Hmm?" he responded wearily, his voice muffled by the fabric of his sleeve.

"I saw Rose," I revealed, my words hanging delicately in the air, waiting to be acknowledged.

The bed sheets rustled subtly as Seungcheol's body moved. He turned to face me, weariness evident in his gaze as he watched me with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Where?" he inquired, his voice barely audible, as if afraid of disrupting the fragile balance of the moment.

"In my dreams," I confessed, my voice tinged with a mixture of awe and sadness.

Seungcheol remained silent, his eyes losing focus as he delved deep into his thoughts. It was a familiar gesture, one I had seen before whenever he retreated into himself, lost in a sea of contemplation.

Pressing on, I continued to share what I had experienced. "She said she doesn't regret it."

A tremor coursed through Seungcheol's hands, visible even from the distance between us. His body seemed to stiffen, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears, on the brink of spilling over.

Without thinking, I closed the distance between us, climbing onto the bed and gingerly placing my hand on his cheek. The warmth of my touch seemed to ground him, as his gaze locked onto mine, a mixture of longing and pain reflected within.

"She loved you all, Seungcheol," I murmured, my voice tender and comforting. "She doesn't regret anything that happened. Her actions were driven by love, so..."

My words trailed off momentarily, unsure of how to convey the weight of the message. But as if guided by some unseen force, Jangmi's ethereal voice echoed in my mind.

"Tell them to stop blaming themselves."

Shaking off the trance, I refocused my attention on Seungcheol, who still stared at me, his eyes brimming with sorrow.

With a gentle smile, I caressed his cheek with my thumb, the touch conveying understanding and solace.

"Stop blaming yourself, High King," I whispered, my words carrying a spark of hope, as if urging him to release the burden he carried and embrace the healing that awaited him.

🌸

Taking in the room around me, I absorbed every detail, keenly aware that Seungcheol had stepped away to attend to his responsibilities.

Once again, I found myself seated on the plush Victorian sofa by the sliding glass window, peering out onto a breathtaking view of a vast lawn adorned with meticulously trimmed grass. 

The sunlight spilled generously, casting a radiant glow upon the scene and illuminating the water's surface in the fountain pond nestled within the lawn.