"I love you," Saeyoung says. We are standing by the front door to the bunker, his duffel bag hanging from one arm and me hanging from the other. He is leaving. This will be the first time we spend apart since so many months ago, when we were reunited with Saeran, and finally together at last. How many days has it been now? I can't be sure. Saeyoung makes the time pass like seconds.
"I love you," he says again, one of his hands now in my hair, his fingers grouping together strands to entangle themselves in, and I melt into his touch. A touch that I absolutely took for granted even in all the time we had been together. Every spot that he comes in contact with becomes engulfed in flames. His eyes wander from my own distractedly, intrigued by his fingers intertwining with locks of my hair. I close my eyes and marvel at the feeling of his hands on me, however soft, however innocent.
They flutter open as Saeyoung's lips brush against the very edge of my mouth. I sigh, almost contently. He rests his forehead on mine, and we breath in each other's air. I have to fight with my lungs to work properly; they are threatening to fully cease functioning at any moment. My heart on the other hand, does the opposite, and accelerates well beyond overdrive; however, it too is seemingly prepared to stop abruptly by overworking itself to the point where it just doesn't work anymore. He has to feel my bounding pulse in such close proximity, and if he can't feel it, he definitely hears it. It's deafening in my ears. It is the only sound in the world.
No, that isn't right. The only sound in the world is Saeyoung's somehow imperturbable breathing. He's still here. And we are the only two people in the world. I feel his bag drop to the floor beside me. His hands snake up my hips and settle under my shirt, a feather-light touch against my lower back. His skin on mine. I don't know how long we stand like this; I am far too mesmerized by the heat emanating from his body, and our contiguity. We exist only to each other.
Here I stand, in the hardest moment of my life, before the only man I've ever loved. The man that is my home. The first breath after drowning. The sun after living in the dark for so long. An uncomfortable unease stirs deep in my core: knowing that there is not a guarantee that he will return home to me in one piece, alive, is consuming me.
But this is an unreasonable, irrational fear… right?
He's about to leave. He has no choice, or they'd come after us. He is going to some place, with some agenda, on some mission. All details are unbeknownst to both of us, except for an inescapable fate regardless: the possibility of a bad outcome.
And this possibility, however slight, is plaguing me. The fact that there is a possibility at all is not okay. My hazel eyes bear into his honey-colored ones, and I know that my fear is not arbitrary in the slightest. There's more than a possibility – there is a likelihood. Looking at Saeyoung is all it takes to reinforce that. This is something that can't be distinguished from an indifferent gaze unless you have stared into a pair of eyes as much as I did his. Very subtly, his eyes shift, and they cloud over with the same incomprehensible fears that I feel.
There is one way in which we are polar opposites: Saeyoung is much more composed and reserved than I could ever dream of being. I'm an open book, too vulnerable; I feel very easily, and express it very easily. A sudden itch pricks at my nose and my eyes, a telltale sign that tears are potentially forming. No, no, no. I told myself that I would not cry. But his eyes suddenly become particularly shiny, and we simultaneously break eye contact. And at this moment, we are one and the same.
In one swift movement, my body is pressed up against his, and my face naturally nestles into the crook of his collarbone, his head in my hair. This is it… deep breath. This is it. I fail miserably at the deep breath; instead, my respirations quicken, bordering dangerously on the edge of anxiety. Focus. Focus. I cannot hyperventilate. Not now. I cannot forget how to breathe in this moment that he needs me to be strong, more than he ever has. My heart thumps against my ribcage, obnoxiously loud, threatening to burst out of its confinement. My whole body briefly floods with warmth, and then everything goes ice cold. Trembling in his arms, I know that I will lose my composure at any second. "I love you." His whisper is as soft as the breath that grazes my scalp.
Saeyoung pulls away to press his forehead to mine again, his eyes closed this time. I inhale his scent, breathing him in, memorizing the texture of his face and the heat wafting from it. He adjusts his positioning, ever so slightly, and his lips touch mine. It's gentle, our lips parted slightly, and my tongue tingles at the salty-sweet taste of Honey Buddha Chips on him. He draws back by a fraction of an inch, and my breathing hitches.
He kisses me again, once. "I love you."
Twice. "I love you."
Three times. "I love you."
And then the panic begins to slowly make itself a home as dead weight in the pit of my stomach, curled up in a deep pocket, settling in as he retreats after his last kiss. I'm not braced for the inevitable goodbye. I will never be ready. No amount of time could ever prepare me for this moment.
Slowly our bodies separate, and every centimeter of space between us is agonizing. Not letting go of my hand, Saeyoung reaches down to pick up his bag off the ground, and slings it back over his shoulder. I wince, reality slapping me in the face. He smiles sadly down at me, and a crippling pain rips through my core, expanding forever outward.
"I love you," he says, and it's the most obvious thing in the world.
My panic is now borderline hysteria, unfathomable, and I silently plead with him one last time, throwing everything I know at him: the desperate clinging to his arm, the infallible puppy dog eyes, the unequivocal telepathy that we have developed. But I know deep down that it's all in vain, and he knows it, too.
"I love you too," I finally manage to choke out. My voice comes in a hoarse whisper, but I hurriedly spew out a frenzied slew of words, like I will never speak again. "I would tell you to do your best, but you know and I know, that your best is more than enough. All I can ask is for you to be safe. Please be safe and come back home to me. To me… to Saeran. We need you." My hand shakily squeezes his as tightly as it can, and I bring it to my lips, planting kisses all over it. "I love you. I love you more than anything in the universe," I speak into his hand, my lips shaping themselves over and around each curve, each finger, leaving my mark there for as long as it will linger.
"I love you." I look up at him one last time, holding his hand to my cheek like it's illegal to let go, until, eventually, a lifetime later, we release each other. This moment is unparalleled in the sense of the impossible; it stops time.
And time only resumes when he delicately caresses the side of my face that I'd just held his hand against, and I gravitate into his tender touch.
"Wait for me," Saeyoung says, barely more audible than the gentlest whisper. But still, his voice breaks. And I do too. My face is still tingling. And then he is gone.
