[ . . . ]
ON THE SECOND DAY, THEY MET UNDER THE BLOSSOMING TREE. Hand in hand, they stood and watch the evergreen forest bloom in lustrous colours. Sunghoon looked down at her, finding the nature around them incomparable to her beauty. It was almost as if she was from another world with her angelic features.
A soft gasp left her lips. Her hand let go of his, wrapping itself around his elbow, pulling him closer to herself.
'What?'
Confusion stretched across Sunghoon's face, worry creeping up on him when he noticed the look in her eyes.
'The thorns are poisonous,' she said, glancing at something behind him.
It wasn't the first time she had saved his life. That was how they met the first time, once when they were young and naïve. If it wasn't for her, Sunghoon would have been meat for the wolves. He had fallen for her that day, feeling as if they were meant to be, meant to cross the infinity together.
'You need to be more careful, Sunghoon. Don't want you dying on me.'
'Isn't it a bit too late for that?'
He watched as the colour slowly drained from her face.
'Don't say that. . .'
'It's true. I'm going to die in twelve days.'
His heart ached at the mere thought of it.
Granted, Sunghoon rarely found enjoyment in living and she had been one of the reasons he was alive. With his family gone, perished to dust under the command of wicked stars, he had nothing else to live for.
Eyes casting upwards, he stared at the blue heavens. They seemed to stare back at him, silent mockery. Under their gaze, he was inferior. And somehow, Sunghoon was all right with that. The thought of giving up control to someone who knew how to handle it seemed like pure bliss. He did not want to take any responsibility anymore, living was hard enough. Doing endless tasks to stimulate the need for happiness inside of him was miserable. He was not happy, nor had he been happy in years.
When he peered into the future, it seemed duller than ever.
She could tell he was thinking. He always looked at the sky when he did, almost as if he was directing his thoughts to them, hoping, praying they'd have an answer. But the stars seldom spoke to mortals. Even if they did, it was scandalous and could cost them their light. Without their light, the stars served no purpose.
They would become one with the unknown infinity.
[ . . . ]