Title: ‘Til there are no stars anymore
Pairings: Main YoonHae, some KhunA, others implied
A/N: Been working on this here for a while, I lost sight of the story a few times, but I think it all came together at the end. Special thanks and a shot out to my lovely twin, because she’s always a source of inspiration whenever writer’s block hits home. Thank you so much beloved twin of mine, I hope it was worth the wait!
Summary: At the end of the road, they just wouldn’t give up. Even if their roads diverged never to cross again.

Part I





The next morning, as they’re on the car that would take them to the airport, his and Hyukjae’s cell phones ring. He throws his friend a look, but Hyukjae isn’t looking at him but rather at his phone, flipping it open and scanning the message with eyes that brighten as he reads it, until at the end he’s laughing openly. He’s still laughing when he finally turns to look at him, nodding towards Donghae’s cell phone with his head. “What did she tell you?” he inquires, and Donghae blinks, before finally lowering his eyes towards the flashing ID on the screen of the phone.

YoonA

His heart immediately begins to beat faster, but he gulps down the anxiety, turning back towards Hyukjae instead.

“Can I see yours?”

His best friend arches an eyebrow and then rolls his eyes, shaking his head out of resignation and wonder, before passing him his phone, her message still open.



Donghae knows better than to dare to hope. Really, Hyukjae was closer to her than he had ever been. There was no awkwardness between them, and that had allowed them to get to know the other without any barriers in between. Donghae was well aware that after Eeteuk, Hyukjae was the closest to YoonA. He had used that to his advantage countless of times, and he was sure that he’d use it again while they were at the Military service. He’d be able to hear from her thanks to them, without a doubt.

But right then—after reading such a display of closeness and care, Donghae couldn’t help but hope against hope that perhaps, just maybe YoonA would allow herself to show the same thing to him. Perhaps not with the teasing and the jokes, but Donghae would take anything he’s given as long as it came from her.

“Are you done already? I want to reply” Hyukjae calls out, his hand extended. Donghae nods and gives him the cell phone, Hyukjae getting comfortable on his seat and starting to write right away.

Donghae turns back towards the ID still written across the screen of his own phone and stares down at it some more, inexplicably nervous about opening it. He knew that regardless of what was written in it, he shouldn’t feel disappointed; the sole fact of getting a text message from her was more than he had expected. More than he deserved, probably, taking into account all the disappointments he had given her.

But that was YoonA. His YoonA. And it was just another reason of why he loved her as intensely he did.

“Are you ever going to open it, man? You could try replying, too”

Once again, Hyukjae gives him the push to get him out of his reverie, and he finally opens the message.

What meets his eyes is a single line of text.



Donghae doesn’t know what to make of it. He gets out of the car and on the plane, and even then, he doesn’t know what to make of it.

And neither did he know how to feel.



It takes him a few months, but he comes to feel at peace with things finally one day, and it’s like a weight is lifted off his chest. It’s fine, he tells himself, as he splashes water on his face and looks at his reflection on the mirror.

She’s young, and inexperienced; he had relationships in the past, but the same thing couldn’t be said about her. All her teenage years, the ones where she was supposed to have crushes and experiment, they were all monopolized by him and he had never lived up to her expectations. The less he could do, was give her the chance to live while he was away. Like someone else, love someone else; kiss someone else, date someone else. It was all okay with him, as long as the guy treated her well, he’d support her because she had the right to feel all those things.

For when he came back; when he returned to her, she wouldn’t have that chance anymore.

He is fine with this all, because he knows that he, them, YoonHae would be the final thing. They’d have it all. The house, the garden, the kids, the family reunions and the fairy tales; they’d have the happily ever after. They were meant to have it, they were meant to happen from the start. And once they did, they wouldn’t end, not until death did they part and even then, Donghae doesn’t doubt that they’ll be reunited again. Because there’s something about them that has always seemed greater than life itself, powerful, overwhelming, unstoppable, imminent.

So, Donghae figures that it’s okay. It was okay if their roads diverged for a while, for they’ll lead them to the same destination sooner or later.

And if he has waited for almost a decade, he figures that one or two more years won’t kill him.

That morning, the smile that meets his eyes on the mirror as he’s drying his face with a towel, it’s more genuine that it has been since that night he left her.



Nichkhun doesn’t really come as a surprise. Donghae had almost been expecting it; almost. He expected it enough to not be surprised at all when he heard the news. Or rather, when YoonA confirmed it to Eeteuk and Hyukjae; after all, they knew better than to blindly believe any rumor they saw on the internet. Though this one, this one rung as true from the moment Donghae laid his eyes on it.

So really, it hadn’t been surprising at all.

But Donghae would be lying if he said that he wasn’t jealous.



She doesn’t write to him, ever, just on his birthday and even that was just two lines. So he hears about her not through the tabloids but rather, through the close friends they have in common.

“He’s treating her well” Eeteuk tells him, even though Donghae has yet to ask anything. “She sounds happy, and that’s all that matters, right?”

Before Donghae could’ve said anything else, his hyung sighed dramatically.

“Though I insist that she should’ve waited to marry me. But YoonA has always been a stubborn one”

Donghae chuckles as he watches Eeteuk get up, his vacant seat being immediately occupied by Hyukjae, who gives Donghae an unreadable look.

“You can’t complain either way. It’s your own fault, Donghae”

Donghae’s laughter dies down.



“What are you laughing about?”

Yuri wraps her arms around YoonA’s shoulders from the back, leaning her face atop that of her friend’s and taking a look at YoonA’s cell phone, causing the younger girl to laugh harder and try to shield the screen from her roommate’s prying eyes.

“It’s Hyukjae-oppa” YoonA admits finally, grinning still, “He’s still wary of Khun-oppa, he’s telling me that he would’ve felt better if I had gotten together with someone who was also on the Military Service right now~”

Yuri chuckles, hugging YoonA a bit tighter.

“He’s so overprotective of you. I don’t know who is more, he, or Eeteuk-oppa. Or Heechul-oppa, I know for a fact that he’s been keeping his eye on Nichkhun-oppa lately, Hangeng-oppa was teasing him about that the other day”

“Omona!” YoonA laughs harder, throwing herself backwards on the bed, effectively taking Yuri with her, much to Yuri’s amusement.

“Say, Yoona~” Yuri begins, deliberately slowly, once that YoonA is finished replying to Hyukjae’s text message. YoonA ‘hmmm’s in reply, and Yuri takes that as her cue to continue. “Have you talked with Donghae-oppa lately?”

Yuri can feel YoonA stiffen besides her. She stifles the urge to sigh.

“You haven’t, have you?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, unnie” YoonA says, slowly, her eyes set on the ceiling above them. “It’s not… that I have any leftover feelings for oppa, I don’t. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be with Khun-oppa” at her lap, her fingers quietly played with the garment dangling on her cell phone, a present from the sweet boy that had stolen her heart and had actually dared to own up to that, “It just… feels weird, that’s all”

“What kind of weird?” Yuri asks, turning towards her and staring at YoonA’s profile, her own fingers coming up to arrange locks of her friend’s hair behind her ear.

YoonA remains silent for a long while, not knowing how to express it.

She wasn’t lying; her heart was focused on the man she was with, and she no longer held any feelings for Donghae, aside from the memories she still recalled fondly whenever she saw something that reminded her of him—like a distinctly blue sky, the cap she loved to use so much, puppies, laughter—or when she was feeling particularly melancholic.

But, somehow—somehow it felt like if she were to contact Donghae; if she were to speak to him, text him, email him—have any kind of contact with him—regardless of how impersonal and brief it were, it’d still feel—

It’d still feel as if she were somehow cheating on Nichkhun.

If Yuri knew that, she’d tell her that she’s being ridiculous. YoonA thinks so, too. But there’s nothing she can do to help the feeling, so she has given up altogether.

She just hopes that by the time Donghae comes back, the feeling will have subsided.




It feels surreal, when he packs his things and throws his bag over his shoulder, his other hand busy carrying the wheeled baggage. He throws a look over at the now empty room, making sure that he hasn’t forgotten anything.

His eyes hesitate over a spot on the wall, spotless, a perfect rectangle that was kept clean from the dust that covered the rest of the light-yellow wall. He smiles, then, all too aware of the weight of something weightless kept secured inside of his pocket.

It was an advantage that they came from the same company and that they were their dongsaengs. No one thought anything weird about how he had attached a picture of the girl group on the wall directly in front of his bed, no one thought anything was up with the way he was constantly glancing at it, loosing himself on the image and smiling wistfully, eyes shining dreamily.

If anyone wondered why he had picked precisely that one; the one where a certain girl was featured so prominently, so much that the rest of the girls were hardly visible at all—no one ever mentioned anything, so it was easy for Donghae to play dumb.

Regardless,had someone noticed—had someone noticed how his eyes never left her, and how his mind was taken over by fond memories of the past and heartfelt dreams for the future—how a single look at her was capable of making him try harder, get his resolve back, keep going, go on living; had someone noticed and had someone dared to approach him, Donghae would’ve said that they were right.

He wouldn’t have denied it. He wouldn’t have made up any stories or poor excuses, he wouldn’t play hide and forsake any option of being found.

He would have said it, without fear of the consequences, without any qualm whatsoever for the rumors that would surely follow; he’d state it, proudly, securely, and above all, honestly—

Why, yes. I’m in love with YoonA. Unexpected, isn’t it?

And it’d feel good.

But not nearly as good as it’d feel when he says those words to her face.

Donghae’s smile widens, then. Widens as he turns around, turns off the light, and closes the door behind him.

It was finally time. The thing he has been living for was about to happen, and Donghae was ready for it.

He was excited, unbelievingly so.

And there was nothing that would stop him now.



Their meeting doesn’t go as planned. She was supposed to go—along with everyone else—to the welcome party that, once again, Heechul had organized. Alas, her schedule had gotten in the way, and she had called to apologize and let them know that she wouldn’t be able to make it in time. She promises them that she’d make it up to them, and that they’d go and have lunch tomorrow—because she misses them all so much.

Or that’s what Eeteuk tells him she had said. He was the one who spoke to her. He also adds that she sounded sad enough, so he tells Hyukjae to not give her a hard time about it—he says it even though he looks as miserable as Hyukjae himself does about her absence.

Donghae surprises them all when he doesn’t lock himself up in his room after saying hi to his long-time-no-see friends. He surprises them even more when he laughs, jokes, and acts normally, as if there wasn’t anything missing.

As if the one thing he had been looking forward to the most hadn’t just been swapped away right underneath his nose.

He grew up, they think, then, proudly. And how well he’s handling with it makes it easier for Eeteuk and Hyukjae and Kyuhyun who had been particularly moody after YoonA had let them know she wouldn’t be able to make it.

Truth is, they were right; but they didn’t know better.

Donghae had grown up, yes; he had learnt—the hard way—that when one has waited for as long as he has, it doesn’t matter to wait a bit more. Especially not when things were worth it.

And as things were, YoonA was definitely worth it.

Alas, he has also learnt that though waiting a bit more could be done, if opportunities are taken away from you, you’ll have to make them yourself.

So he does just that.

He pulls Yuri away two hours into the party, asks her the address of YoonA’s set; begs her to stay silent. Grabs Heechul’s keys, plasters on a smile, says to some that he’s going to the bathroom and to other’s that he’s going to grab some fresh air, slips inside Heechul’s car and drives.

He knows that Heechul will be pissed and that Eeteuk will be worried, that many will be angry at him for not saying goodbye or staying with them after such a long time of not seeing him; but Donghae puts that aside, and concentrates.

YoonA was worth it. She was worth it all.

As such, Donghae could wait for her, if she desired him to; but, for himself, he wasn’t willing to wait any longer.

And if that meant that he had to drive across the city at 2 in the morning, then so be it.



When he arrives, he doesn’t get out of the car immediately. Not only because it only occurs to him then that if he shows up so unexpectedly he might disturb YoonA’s work and cause her trouble with her supervisors, but also because he isn’t exactly sure of what he’s going to say to her.

Seeing her in a room full of people, in an encounter that was not initiated by him was one thing; but driving for an hour and fifteen minutes in order to show up at her set and see her, was not a situation that could be interpreted as anything else but what it was.

A clear demonstration of the fact that even after not seeing her for two and a half years; even after not speaking to her, after not having any direct contact with her—he was still in love with her.

Madly in love with her, and willing to finally act on it.

Alas, while he’s fine with YoonA getting that point clear straight from the get go, he isn’t completely sure of how he can go around getting anywhere past that. Would there be any awkwardness about the obvious way in which she had avoided him? He knew for a fact that he didn’t hold it against her, if anything, that only made him more confident because it didn’t take a genius to understand what was going through her mind as she did it. Had she acted more normally, he probably wouldn’t be here right now, but being more of a coward instead.

What to do, what to do…?

He doesn’t have much time for thinking anything past that, because it’s suddenly that a light is reflected on the rear mirror, and it’s thanks to a reflex that he raises his eyes and sees her.

He’s sitting, but he feels the ground shift from underneath him then. The non-stopping insisting vibrations of his cell phone could no longer be felt. The cold was completely unnoticeable. It’s almost like he’s having an out of body experience.

One where instead of seeing himself, all he can see is her. Tunnel vision, perhaps.

All he can see is her. YoonA, exiting the building and bowing goodbye to the workers, her trademark grin in place, her dark hair pulled up somewhat messily at the side of her head, a long, white coat covering her and shielding her from the cold. Even from the distance, she looks tired; exhausted, even, but despite that she was capable of lightening up everything around her with her inner light.

That much hadn’t changed. Would never change.

When he sees her again, he thinks that the picture he kept and treasured so much did no justice to the real deal.

When he sees her again, he thinks that so much for being ready for this. His knees tremble, his palms sweat, his heart beats erratically, he can’t wipe the grin from his face, he’s embarrassed as hell, nervous, anxious.

Happy. Relieved. Glad. He wants to cry.

He isn’t sure how he manages to do it; manages to open the door, step outside of the car, stand on his own feet without his knees buckling. Hold himself back from doing something stupid and embarrassing and childish—

His legs don’t work properly, but he’s glad that his throat wasn’t responding either, because that allows him to see the single thing that chases away all the remains of his fears and insecurities.

His silence allows him to witness how YoonA suddenly stops walking, on her way to the car where her manager was waiting for her. It allows Donghae to notice the way her back straightens, and she stands there, for a moment, before turning around—turning around directly towards him.

Her eyes meet his, then, and Donghae’s heart does summersaults which luckily drown out the nervous laughter that wanted to crawl out his lips out of how overwhelmed he was.

It’s only the dry sound of YoonA’s bag slipping down her arm and hitting the ground underneath her that allows Donghae to wake up from his out-of-body experience, and he smiles, smiles even more as he sees the way YoonA’s widened deer eyes were shining brightly.

He believes they were a good reflection of his own, most probably. The thought makes him give a step forward.

“Oppa…” YoonA whispers, still completely taken aback. Donghae gives another step closer.

“YoonA…” He whispers back, and her name feels light and at the same time heavy on his lips; there were so many things he wished to say. How could he begin?

At the end, he decides that first things should go first.

He smiles.

“Hey, YoonA. Long time no see”



Oppa… what are you doing here?

Donghae knew she’d make the question. He had been waiting for her to make it. So it’s then when he gives the last steps separating him from her, and comes to stand close to her; so close, that he could feel the warmth emanating from her body, could notice every single eyelash, so close that their breaths could mingle.

I wanted to see you.

He confesses after a decade of holding it back, and though they aren’t the exact words he wishes he could tell her, he’s well aware that they mean the same thing. YoonA knows it, too. He is sure of it.

The way her eyes widen again, the way her body warms up even more, her cheeks blush, her lips part and she stares at him with mouth agape; so prettily, eyes so radiant, unbelieving, surprised, overwhelmed—he thinks he has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

He’s already looking forward to what face she’ll make when he finally stops disguising the words he truly wishes to say.

But that could wait; for now, this was more important. Without a proper beginning, their history couldn’t be rekindled, and his desired ending wouldn’t be able to be reached.

Is… that wrong?

He inquires, more to try and coax her into saying something, anything, that out of real doubt. He knows that it isn’t wrong; regardless of what YoonA replied, it wouldn’t be wrong. Because it didn’t feel that way.

Still, his breath gets caught in his throat when YoonA shakes her head softly, averting her eyes for a moment as she smiles, before meeting his again.

No, it’s fine. I’m glad… I wanted to see you too, oppa.

Make believe always fell short in front of reality. And nothing Donghae ever pictured could’ve ever come close to that moment; close to her beauty, to the feeling that expanded through his body at hearing her honest words.

It’s then that Donghae decides that yes, this time, things would turn out well.

He couldn’t have asked for a better beginning.



He isn’t sure if all the time lost can be seen as time wasted—they were both growing up, in their own ways. The experiences they had during that amount of time were necessary to make them who they’re now.

Sure he does wish he could take back the bitter memories; the times he slipped on his tongue and remained silent, the times he watched her walk away, YoonA’s sad eyes, his frustration, his tears, her disappointment—but at the same time, without them, they’d be different now.

He likes her the way she is. He is in love with the YoonA he left, and he’s even more in love with the YoonA he found. He wouldn’t change a thing about her, so he guesses that means he wouldn’t change a thing about their past, either.

He decides then, that he should make up for it. Not for the wasted time, because there was none of that—but for the lost time.

Besides, he was already very sure of what he wanted his future to turn out to be. He knew what life he wanted to build with his own hands, and most importantly, he knew with whom he wanted to build it with.

He knew that there would be no regrets, no disappointments, no second thoughts; just happiness. Mind-numbing happiness.

He expressed it, years ago; the knowledge that they would be it. That they would have it all. He has that conviction now, as well; stronger than ever, carved as hard as steel across every single cell forming his body.

Donghae feels confident enough that YoonA must be aware of the same thing, too.

So he doesn’t hold in his breath, and just goes for it; jumps in the waters without a single look back, without a single fear. Confident enough that the two of them would resurface right away.



In more ways than one, that night was the end of an era.

They had known it was coming, but when they stepped out on the stage, prepared for their last performance together, everything had been way more real and overwhelming. The cheers, the tears, the pained screaming; by the last song, there were tears rolling down everyone’s cheeks as they said their goodbye as the band that had gotten inside the hearts of millions of people during the decade they had been working together.

It was almost unbelievable, that the end of the road had arrived so fast. That they had to say goodbye.

Each one of them had their futures carved in front of them already. Heechul would be a popular entertainer and a well-known actor, Hangeng and his charisma opening him all kinds of doors and opportunities; they’d support one another, stay together until the end, come what may.

Kangin, Hyukjae, Eeteuk, Kibum, Siwon, Shindong; they all already had long ago given steps ahead on the areas of entertainment where they wanted to remain. Kyuhyun, Yesung, Ryeowook and Sungming were going to keep performing, singing their hearts out for their loved ones and themselves. Henry and Zhou Mi, too, had long ago decided what they’d be doing in their futures without Super Junior M.

That way, the name and memory of Super Junior would carry on, even on the future when they were no longer functioning as a band, the name of the group would follow each individual member on their distinct areas of work, and people would keep listening to them. Super Junior would be alive still, alive and carrying on.

They’d stay together, too; through calls, e-mails, monthly meetings, they swore that they’d remain what they have been for so long already; the one thing they cannot stop being: family.

Even if distance was in the way.



From the beginning, his plan had been to retire to Mokpo after everything was done. He was happy, there. He had happy memories, family, dreams that he wanted to achieve in there.

So when the time comes, even if it pains him to do so, he doesn’t change his mind. His bags are packed before they leave for the concert, and his travel scheduled for two hours after the end was done. He knew that if he stayed with them any longer, his resolution would waver, and he didn’t want that.

He couldn’t afford it.

His resolution remains strong even when he finds her, waiting for him backstage. Their eyes meet, but none of the two says anything. There is the trace of dried tears sticking to Donghae’s face, and his eyes are red, puffy, his hair disheveled, his clothes wet, his skin sweating.

And above all, there’s this pain inside his chest. He doesn’t know what to do about it.

Wordlessly, YoonA extends her arms towards him. That’s all it takes for him to cross the room in long strides, he’s crying openly once again even before he has reached her, even before he starts holding onto her for dear life, her fragile arms that are in reality so strong, holding him securely inside of her embrace. She whispers soothing notions on his ear, no real words being exchanged, she knew very well that he needed to deal with this on his own.

Her legs tremble underneath her, despite that; she couldn’t help but to think about how it’d be like to disband and stop presenting herself as, So nyuh shi dae’s YoonA. She didn’t even want to think about it. She had already cried enough while seeing their concert, and now Donghae needed her.

If there was something that Him YoonA knew how to do, that was being strong for her loved ones. And if Donghae could actually be able to speak right then, he’d have let her know just how much he appreciated it.

For the pain in his chest was subsiding, at least a bit—enough for him to remember what he had to do.

Enough for him to wipe his tears away, detach himself from her, look her in the eye, take her hands, take a deep breath—and speak.



YoonA couldn’t believe her ears.

Come with me.

To say that YoonA hadn’t been expecting that would be an understatement. But when he’s looking at her in that way; with those dead-set, determined eyes and that hope shining on in them, she finds it hard to truly express her surprise with anything apart from her expression.

The fact that she can understand what he truly means only makes it worse.

She doesn’t need to see the way he takes his hand to his pocket, the pocket that now she realized had taken the shape of a small box, to guess what he’d say then. To realize what his real intentions were.

He wanted her to go with him to Mokpo. Leave everything behind, and go with him. Go be with him. Spend her future with him and build one for the two of them. He wanted her to—

YoonA, marr—

She stops him before he can say anything else. Steps back, shakes her head desperately, tears glistening in her eyes.

I can’t, oppa.

Now it’s his turn to stare at her with surprise, his own eyes welling up with unreleased tears.

…Why?

YoonA shakes her head again, hugs herself.

I have dreams, too. A contract to fulfill. I want to be an actress, oppa, I can’t just turn my back on it when I’m finally getting the roles I want to have. I… I don’t want to.

Her eyes look haunted then, as she meets his. He wishes he could’ve done something to stop them, but the tears start dripping down his cheeks without his consent, and suddenly YoonA’s expression contorts with pain and he’d have given anything in order to take that pain away. In order to tell her that it was okay, that he understood, that they could get through it; that it was okay.

But he couldn’t. For the truth was that it wasn’t. It was not okay.

It was not okay because for the first time, their roads had really diverged. His future was somewhere else, and the future she wished for couldn’t fit in there. He had made the mistake of believing that what they had—what they could have, could truly mean it all.

Had he been selfish? Or just deluded, hopeful?

So he just stands there, silently crying, never averting his eyes from hers.

So… I guess this is goodbye, isn’t it?

He says, with a voice that he doesn’t recognize as his own. YoonA winces, averts her eyes.

I… I guess it is.

She turns around then, a blur of whites and blacks and beauty and heartbreak and missed happiness and tears, of could’ve been and not meant to be.

I’m sorry, oppa. I’m so sorry.

Are the words she leaves him with, and Donghae would’ve liked to tell her that he was sorry, too, but she had left him before he could even attempt to pull himself together.

The ring he had planned to give her was heavy inside of his pocket, almost as heavy as his heart was inside of his chest.

He no longer had the strength to carry neither of them.



He doesn’t sleep on his way to Mokpo. He doesn’t sleep for two straight nights once he arrives, either.

He wonders how come his home felt so unfamiliar to him. He wonders why he feels like he has lost so much along the way.

He wonders if anything would’ve changed, had he done something different somewhere.

He wonders what that something could’ve been, and how he could’ve done it differently.

He admonishes himself for something he doesn’t even understand.

He wishes he didn’t miss them so badly. He wishes he wouldn’t need them so much.

He wishes he wouldn’t be so in love with her, to the point where his heart refuses to mend and he cannot stop glancing at that lone ring which she never got to see. The ring that lays atop of the small table besides his bed, as if taunting him about what he had given up on to grasp onto his childish dreams.



Six months go by, and breathing becomes easier. Sleeping comes to him naturally too, and his stomach doesn’t twist and turn with everything he eats. His heart feels lighter, too; fresher with the pure breeze of Mokpo and the sea and the tranquility that surrounds him.

The ring no longer lays on the small table, but rather, he takes it with him everywhere he goes. He can’t really express, logically, the reason of why he does it; it just feels weird leaving it behind, all alone and abandoned and forsaken amidst the dust.

He guesses that it was one of those things that people would categorize him as weird for, but he doesn’t really mind. Weird is not something that he minds being, and there are things that other people just cannot understand.

There are lots of things that Donghae himself still isn’t able to understand, either; but that day, that day it hits him.

Like a sudden wave raising across an even ocean, it lifts him up and turns him around; turns him until he’s dizzy, turns him until through the dizziness everything he knows and anything he ignores is mixed together, and a sudden thought gets through to him like a blinding ray of light—the sun shining through the transparent wall built from the waves circling him.

What am I doing?

The question shakes his ground, the fragile center around which his beaten satellite has been rotating for these past six months; and just like that, the precarious equilibrium and stability that he thought he had managed to find crumbles in front of him like shards of falling glass.

He had asked her to come with him and live a dream that wasn’t her own; leave her goals behind so that he could fulfill his. And when she had refused; when she had shown as she always had that she valued her goals as much as he valued his, he had remained silent. He had taken his bags and come here, kept on living, trying to pretend like nothing had ever happened.

What have I been doing?

How could he had even asked her to do such a thing? How come he expected her to sacrifice, but he hadn’t even thought of doing the same thing for her? Where was the fairness in that?

All along, it had always been about him. About him being scared, about him being in denial; about him being a coward, about him making her wait, about him running away—even at the end, it was about the life he wanted and not the life she needed.

God, I’ve been so stupid.

He shields his face with his hands, still dizzy from the epiphany that had taken a little too long to arrive; the realization that he has been delaying for months on end.

And what for?

So that he could get up every morning and play at living the childhood dream he always had? So that he could sit on his boat and wait and see her everywhere? On the water, on the sky, behind the trees—YoonA was everywhere, everywhere, she had never left him. The ring he still bought with him everywhere was material proof of that.

It’s pathetic, that he had to bring a ring with him in order to try and fulfill the emptiness he was attempting to pretend he didn’t notice.

But it was still there. It has always been there.

And it’d remain there as long as YoonA wasn’t with him. It makes little to no sense, for something so obvious to be understood by him only then; but it’s truly only then that he realizes the one thing that has been keeping him from forgetting about YoonA ever since the moment she found her way into his heart and possessed it fully, wholly, throwing the key away never to be found again.

Without YoonA, he wasn’t complete. It was like a part of him was missing; the color, the brightness, the will, the excitement—he had ripped it apart from his body and left it behind at Seoul, given up on them without really intending to. Without realizing the consequences of what he was doing.

I’m such an idiot.

He knows that much to be true, and if it were up to him he’d remain there repeating the same thing to himself all day—but as things were, the haziness was cleared from his mind and he was overwhelmed by the need to take action, by the need to attempt to make amends.

He didn’t know if he deserved it; another chance from her, after everything. He didn’t even know if she’d want to give it to him—but he’s willing to work for it. He’s willing to make sacrifices and earn it, earn the right and the ability to be with her, forever and ever.

Because he knows now that, that is truthfully the one and only thing he really desires.

Where they are, what he’s doing; it doesn’t matter, as long as she’s by his side. As long as they have a family together, everything would be worthwhile.

Because he loves her. He loves her more than he loves himself, he loves her more than he thought was possible.

And he was going to get her back.

So he turns around; he turns around and his feet are already preparing to run all the way to his house to pick up his keys and make his way over to Seoul—he wouldn’t dare to risk it for any other day. No more time lost, not anymore.

Alas, the sight that greets his eyes is enough to stop him completely.

It’s enough to erase every coherent thought from his brain and make his body paralyze, his knees tremble.

And suddenly, like it always happens whenever his eyes lay on her, everything around them disappears.



“What are you doing here?”

Donghae is thankful that his lame greeting doesn’t come out sounding unfriendly, but rather, just shocked. With a tint of hopefulness that it’s spreading from the tip of his tongue down to his body and his toes with each word he pronounces and every breath he takes.

He doesn’t understand what’s happening, and he cannot believe his eyes. But his heart is beating so fast that he can’t bring himself to try and make sense of anything but her, and the way she averts her eyes, as if embarrassed, nervously playing with her hands.

“I… I wanted to see you, oppa”

She tells him finally, and when her eyes meet his, he can see himself. He can see himself on that cold night a few months ago, and he’s hit by the contrast between the two scenes; it was a sunny day today, breezy and warm and it was daytime instead of three and a half in the morning, but despite all that the emotions shining on YoonA’s eyes are the same that were shining on his back then.

“Is that wrong?” She asks then, and he can’t help but laugh, because he knows that she’s doing it more to manage to bring him back down to earth than out of fear of his reply; because she knows it isn’t wrong. She knows that it isn’t wrong because it didn’t feel wrong.

Donghae knows.

So he grins, he grins as he steps forward until he can cup her chin and feel her soft skin against his own, look down straight to her eyes and count the eyelashes, feel the radiance of her smile, the warmth of her closeness.

“No, it’s fine… I wanted to see you too, YoonA”

He doesn’t know exactly what she was going to tell him. He doesn’t know what prompted her to come all the way over here, find him, and speak to him. He doesn’t know, he cannot possibly know when she has yet to explain herself; but he has an idea.

He has an idea, and that is enough to make him close the distance between them and lean down to catch her lips with his, his left hand coming up to cup her left cheek, as her own hands came to rest on his forearm.

The warmth that spread through his body at the contact felt like electricity, felt like the first time; she tasted like happiness, like the future, like the stars and the sun.

Like hope.

Inside of him, there were fireworks, fireweorks everywhere; exploding and painting everything with beautiful colors, lightening up his world.



It figures that they’d reach the same conclusion on the very same day. Or rather, a few hours apart from each other; YoonA has always been a bit sharper for that kind of stuff, and she’s had a lot of time to think things through without denial trying to rear its ugly head into the mess.

Don’t run away, just because you’re scared.

She confessed had been her mantra, and before she could talk herself out of it, she had made her way there; just like he had done before on that day, she figured it was her time to step forward and do the chasing.

He had laughed, then. Had kissed her again, had hugged her and had kissed her once more.

So, it’s fine, oppa. It’s fine if we stay here, as long as I’m with you… I’ll be happy.

YoonA tells him that with so much honesty; with so much love and adoration shining on her eyes, Donghae feels like he’s floating.

Floating high through the clouds and the sky and the universe that was his love for her. That was their love for each other.

YoonA’s eyes widen as he takes out the ring, takes her hand and places it on her finger.

Oppa… how come you had it with you?

I always have it with me, beautiful. I guess I was always hopeful something like this would happen one day

He confesses, sheepishly, and it’s YoonA’s turn to laugh. She raises one of her hands and places behind his ear a lock of his long hair, and then her hand comes to rest naturally on the ring that was on her finger, her smile lightening up her face.

Donghae smiles.

Though, today, I had it with me because I was planning to go to Seoul and find you

Eh?

He explains everything to her then; explains his epiphany, the conclusion he had reached, what he felt—and by the end of his speech, YoonA’s expression is one of utter confusion.

But oppa, then—

It doesn’t matter, Yoong. It’s okay. I want you to fulfill your dreams, I want to see you acting. I don’t want you to leave them for me, because the truth is, just like you said… as long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.

It was the truth, and he had known it all along. He could see it now. He could see it just as clearly as he could see the tears gathering at the corner of her eyes and the moved, sincere, adoring smile that makes him smile, too.

YoonA cups his face with both hands, stands on her tiptoes, kisses his forehead, and then she just leans in. She leans in so their foreheads are resting against the other, so that they’re leaning on each other, her hands still around his face and his resting on her forearms. Their breaths are mingling, and their heartbeats are one, and they’re so content that they cannot even hear the birds chirming around them.

“But I don’t want you to give up on your goals either, oppa”

Donghae smiles more widely, squeezes her forearm and meets her eyes with his own.

He understands now, what the key to everything is.

“We’ll manage. As long as we’re together, we’ll manage”



End




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