we'll be alright (please try again)

[spiritomb]

title: we'll be alright (please try again)
pairing: jungwon/niki
rating: general
summary: riki runs because it’s all he’s ever known. as soon as he closes his eyes and the dreams start, he runs for his life.

notes: happy birthday, soupmate! this entire series is dedicated to you. we've only known each other for a little bit, but it feels like a lifetime. i love you to the moon and back <333

this is what became of wonki art students.

title from try again by d.ear and jaehyun.

---

riki runs because it’s all he’s ever known. as soon as he closes his eyes and the dreams start, he runs for his life. he runs until it feels like his lungs are burning, turning his insides to ash.

he runs across the dilapidated rooftop, hearing snapping jaws behind him. riki can see the edge of the building approaching, then an all too familiar face yells his name, eyes wide with fear.

riki!

riki runs, and when he reaches the edge of the building, he jumps, limbs flailing as he reaches for the other boy. he crashes into the side of the building, two hands desperately grabbing onto his outstretched arm and hauling him up-

riki blinks, and he’s getting hauled up the side of a cliff. the boy, the same boy but with dark brown hair instead of light brown grits his teeth as he pulls riki back up onto solid ground, breathing heavily.

riki rolls onto his back, eyes staring blankly at the sky as he struggles to catch his breath. the boy straddles his chest, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him up, eyes red with anger.

riki, have you lost your fucking mind?

and riki wants to say yes, he has lost his fucking mind, but he doesn’t get a chance when the ground shifts beneath them. he sees the boy’s eyes go wide again as the ground gives way underneath them. time slows again as riki throws his hands out and pulls the boy to his chest as they plunge into the rocky waters below.

the water pulls him in every direction until riki can’t tell which way is up and which way is down. he starts struggling, lungs burning again until he feels several sets of hands grab at the back of his shirt and haul him out of the water. riki turns onto his side and heaves out saltwater in between gasping for air.

someone grabs the back of his necks and pulls him to his feet by his shirt, slapping his cheeks a few times to get his attention.

when riki’s vision clears again, he’s face to face with the boy again, except his hair is bleach blond and his skin is tan from working in the sun. there’s a sword on his belt, and riki looks up to see a jolly roger flying on the mast above him.

…riki?

 

 

 

 

for as long as riki can remember, the nightmares have followed him everywhere he goes. he remembers being too scared to sleep alone as a child, then being unable to sleep for fear the vivid dreams would overwhelm him again.

his speech is stilted, abrupt, with his words arranged in a way that seem far too outdated. when riki realizes the adults are looking at him strange and the other kids are avoiding him, he keeps to himself and takes solace in something else: art.

he draws what he can remember from his nightmares, and suddenly, they don’t seem as scary put onto paper. riki doesn’t remember much from them other than a boy, but he draws the best he can, pulling fading details from his memory and tucking them away for safe keeping.

it isn’t until he’s much older that he realizes that these nightmares he has, they never repeat. he dreams a new one each time, and once the memory fades, it’s gone forever, taking with it a piece of himself.

he never forgets the boy’s face, though. he can draw it from memory, asleep, awake, and every state in between. he doesn’t know who this boy is, or what he’s doing there in his dreams, but riki feels like it’s destiny.

this boy is my destiny.

 

 

 

 

the nights where riki’s dream run rampant leads to morning where riki feels barely alive, drained, emptier, and more hollow than before.

when he opens his eyes and sees the grimy ceiling of his dorm room followed by the sounds of his roommate’s snoring, riki knows he’s back to his current reality.

he closes his eyes again and groans. riki’s body feels too heavy for him, and he debates about whether or not he wants to skip his morning class in favor of attempting to get more sleep.

he debates for too long, however, and doesn’t notice when his roommate’s snoring stops until he feels stuff being thrown on top of his bed.

“get up, riki! we’re gonna be late for class. i can’t be late for class because taehun said he’d buy me coffee.” riki’s roommate, sungjun, throw some more things from the floor on top of his bed before grabbing the end of riki’s blanket and pulling it off of him, dumping everything back onto the floor.

“sungjun, what the fuck. what was the point of that?” riki asks, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. there’s no rhyme or reason to what he does sometimes.

sungjun only grins at him before winking and shooting a finger gun. “you’re up, aren’t you?”

riki only answers with a heavy sigh as he rolls out of bed, and the two boys shuffle around each other to get dressed, brush their teeth, and attempt to tame their hair.

sooner rather than later, they’re heading towards the fine arts building, sungjun chatting away about something his boyfriends did the other night.

taehun, one of sungjun’s boyfriends, is waiting for them outside the building, holding out a drink holder with three iced americanos.

“one’s for you, riki. sungjun said you looked a little extra dead this morning, so i got one for you, too.”

riki thanks him quietly, reaching gratefully for the coffee and inhaling half of it in one sip. it’s going to take a little bit for the caffeine to hit his system, but the motion of sipping is already waking him up.

“i’ll see you later, sungjun. tell your other boyfriend i said hi. thank you again, taehun.”

then they separate, riki heading towards the fine arts building while sungjun and taehun head towards the music halls.

riki listens to the din of chatter around him as he walks down the hall towards his first class of the dar. it’s a familiar sound, almost comforting, drowning out riki’s intrusive thoughts.

suddenly, his feet stop in the middle of the hallway, and he whips his head back towards the other end, someone on the other end mimicking his motions.

it’s him, riki realizes, eyes going wide.

it’s the boy, except his hair is black, and he looks even more tired than riki feels. the world continues to move around them until riki raises a hand in greeting.

he waits, holding his breath as he sees the confusion on the boy’s face, but he copies the motion, and when riki blinks, the boy is gone, a crowd of people walking over the spot where he was standing.

 

 

 

 

riki works the late shift at a café near the school. this particular café is open until two in the morning. usually around ten, it comes to a dead standstill, save for a few night owls that keep to themselves in different corners of the building.

riki takes this opportunity to finish some homework, watch videos, catch up on his social media, or make a few rough sketches to see if anything catches his eye.

lately, his professor’s been praising his portraits, asking who the boy is.

i wish i knew, riki always says. sungjun always tells him the human mind can’t make up faces, only inserting and combining faces he’s seen before, even if it was just for a second.

not that he doesn’t trust his roommate or anything, but he really doesn’t want to tell him he’s seen this boy in every single dream he’s ever had his entire life.

so, imagine his surprise when the boy walks through the front door of the café, looking like his world is crashing down around him.

riki’s eyes dart down to his sketch before he closes the book and shoves it under the counter, tucking his pencil behind his ear.

“w-welcome. what can i get started for you?” riki asks in a daze, staring at the boy’s soft cheeks. he sees a light blush appear on them when he realizes riki is staring at him.

“uh… can i get…” he squints his eyes at the menu, stuffing his hands awkwardly into his pocket. “can i get… a… hot chocolate with some caramel sauce? and some cinnamon on top, if you have any.”

that throws riki for a loop. not the fact that he’s ordering a hot chocolate in the dead heat of summer, but hearing his voice, actually hearing the boy’s voice for the first time. riki can’t help but feel like it suits him.

“sure. can i get a name?”

their eyes meet again as riki’s hand hovers over the cup, trying not to let them shake. his throat is dry, and the anticipation is killing him.

“… jungwon.”

and finally, for the first time in his life, riki can finally put a name to the face.

jungwon.

 

 

 

 

it doesn’t occur to riki to start a dream diary until he gets into high school, and drama starts because one girl found another girls diary and reads some raunchy entries out loud to a crowd of people.

riki doesn’t stay for the aftermath (something about a fight breaking out, hair being pulled, and maybe a broken nose), but it gets him thinking about starting a dream diary. (he also makes a mental note to never carry it with him to school, and if he absolutely has to, never let it out of his sight.)

he notices the hollow feeling in his chest is more prominent when he has multiple nightmares in a short span of time. the emptiness pulses in his heart as he scrambles to write down as much as he can remember until the adrenaline wears off and his mind shuts off again.

then, when he’s flipping through the pages to try to make sense of his delirious thoughts and awful handwriting, riki sits there and makes a list of things to sketch.

his planning notebooks are full of shorthand scribbles that look like gibberish to everyone else, oddly placed exclamations (louder than he’s ever spoken, probably), and lists with too many cross outs.

the boy in his dreams is shorted to DB or ‘dream boy.’ at one point, riki starts calling him ‘destined boy,’ but it felt too long to write out.

now, the boy has a name, and seeing jungwon written in his dream diary throws him for a loop.

riki taps on his planning notebook a few times, staring off into space before his eyes widen, and he jots something down in the corner of a torn page.

if having these nightmares empties me, he writes, then being near him fills me up again.

 

 

 

 

jungwon becomes a regular at the café. riki never sees him until after eleven at night. sometimes, he’s there right at eleven, and other times, it’s almost midnight before jungwon appears at the door, looking like he’s one step away from strangling someone with his bare hands.

after the fourth time he visits, riki stops asking him for his order and asking him, “the usual?” instead, and every time jungwon nods his head, riki feels a tiny sense of accomplishment settle in his heart.

he and jungwon meet eyes in the hallways every now and then, but it’s always at a distance, and they carry on with their awkward hand raising as a greeting before continuing to their destinations.

riki stares blankly at his canvas, blinking once, twice, three times before sighing heavily and rubbing his face with cold hands.

“i know that sigh. are we stuck?”

riki only drops his hands and looks up when he feels a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. hyunjin, his class’s resident grad student, sits down on the empty stool next to him, hands in his pockets.

the man himself is his own work of art, and he’s been the muse to more pieces around campus than riki can count.

“yeah. it’s not that i don’t have any ideas, it’s just professor kim told me not to draw the same person again.”

hyunjin rolls his eyes. “how is that old far still a professor here? ugh. ignore him. i’m the one grading this batch, and i personally like seeing the boy you draw. does he have a name? your boyfriend, maybe?” hyunjin elbows riki with a laugh when the tips of his ears go red.

“no, he- no. he doesn’t have a name, and he’s not my boyfriend.”

riki tries to ignore the way hyunjin’s eyebrows raise as he stands back up. “uh huh. i’m sure. you don’t draw someone like that unless you’re hopelessly in love with them. trust me. i’d know.”

riki snorts. he knows hyunjin is also a bit of a hopeless romantic, and all of his pieces relate back to his long-term boyfriend, someone from the music department named han jisung, in some way shape or form.

he goes back to staring at the blank canvas after hyunjin leaves with a new thought.

am i in love with jungwon?

 

 

 

 

riki keeps running, this time, through the halls of a palace that’s seen better days. the shadows are closing in on him, and he doesn’t know where to turn.

riki!

he spots the boy- jungwon, motioning for him frantically behind a door, and in a burst of speed, riki dives for it just as the tendrils of darkness grab his legs, he feels a pair of arms drag him through and-

he’s in the middle of a forest, twigs snapping underneath his body when he falls onto his hands and knees. the palms of his hands are bleeding, and he thinks his knees are supposed to sting, but riki feels nothing, pushing himself up and wobbling unsteadily.

riki, are you feeling alright?

riki spots jungwon sitting on one of the lower branches of a tree, pout on his lips, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

get down from there. you’re gonna hurt yourself, jungwon.

the boy sticks his tongue out at him, mischievous grin on his face. only if you catch me.

riki sighs, but he can’t help the smile on his face as he holds his arms out for jungwon. a flash of red on his palms send a jolt of pain through his head as jungwon jumps towards his arms. riki feels the brief pressure of jungwon’s weight in his arms, then-

he doesn’t know why or how, but he can feel the life leaving jungwon’s body, and his vision starts blurring with tears.

there’s blood. there’s so much blood everywhere, and jungwon’s wearing white clothes that are stained nearly black. he coughs a few times, looking straight into his eyes, a small smile on his face as he reaches up for riki’s cheek.

riki…

 

 

 

 

“hey! riki! riki, wake up!”

riki’s eyes snap open as he thrashes awake at his desk. sungjun holds onto the back of his chair to keep him from falling back, waiting until riki is still to let go.

“are you okay? you were yelling in your sleep,” he says leaning over, concern dotting his features.

his heart is beating out of his chest, and he’s still struggling for air, so he just nods instead. there’s sweat on his forehead, and riki can feel how hoarse his throat is. he swallows, trying to remind himself it’s just a dream.

if it’s just a dream, why does it feel so real? a tiny voice in the back of his head says.

sungjun sits down on his bed, switching his lamp on. “you wanna talk about it?”

riki watches as the lamp bathes the room in a soft yellow, thoughts wandering to sunrises and sunsets.

“no, not really,” riki says quietly, clearing his throat, and running a hand through his hair. (his throat feels destroyed. just how hard did he yell?)

sungjun just nods. despite them having just met at the beginning of the semester, the two are quite close, being the same age. but while riki looks older, his insomnia and differing sleep pattern adding years of age to his face, sungjun looks a lot younger, baby faced with a mischievous grin adorning it at all times.

he seems to understand that pushing riki to answer things or talk makes him clam up even more, filling the silence with his own stories instead.

riki works on his sketches in silence, mind drifting in and out until sungjun speaks again.

“oh, riki?”

“hmm?”

“you were yelling a name. jungwon?”

riki doesn’t answer him, feeling his heart rate spike again.

“is that… is that his name? the guy in your drawings?”

riki looks down at his sketchpad, jungwon’s face staring up at him.

“yeah. that’s his name.”

 

 

 

 

“you look about as tired as i feel.”

riki drops his pencil in surprise, looking up from the counter to see jungwon standing in front of him, a small, amused smile on his face.

“i’ve never seen you with glasses before.”

“i didn’t get much sleep last night. my eyes were feeling too dry for my contacts.” riki immediately reaches for a cup as jungwon pulls out his wallet.

“make yourself a drink, too. i’ll pay for it,” jungwon says quietly, tapping his card gently on the counter as he waits for riki to come back to the register.

riki glances over to jungwon as he taps his card again, and the sound echoes around him. he blinks, and jungwon is wearing a black suit, hair a dark blue. in his hands is a gun, and he’s tapping it on a desk.

he blinks again, and they’re back in the café.

“i’ll take you up on that offer. i’ll pay you back next time.” he gives jungwon a weak smile before entering his drinks into the register.

jungwon doesn’t say anything else to riki other than a mumbled thank you when he takes his card back, dragging his backpack over to his usual corner, and slumping into his usual seat.

riki finishes their drinks up quietly and sets jungwon’s hot chocolate down in front of him before pulling the chair out next to him and falling into it dramatically.

“what happened? classes running you into the ground?”

riki hears jungwon take a sip of his drink and sighs into his arms again. “not really. didn’t sleep too well last night.”

“thinking too much?”

“nightmares,” riki finally says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with one hand, reaching for his drink with the other.

“do you remember them?”

riki freezes for a moment. it feels like a loaded question, and he feels jungwon’s eyes on him for a moment before the boy looks away.

“no. i don’t remember much. i’m always running, though.”

“from what?”

riki shrugs, finally chancing a look at jungwon. jungwon is staring at him again, eyes soft with understanding. “i dunno. i just keep running.”

he doesn’t tell jungwon it’s always him. he’s running towards him.

 

 

 

 

“alright, shut your mouths, you tiny heathens,” hyunjin says, banging his rings on his desk. riki flinches at the noise, and the throbbing behind his eyeballs gets worse.

“in case you hadn’t noticed, some of the photography students are here to get a few shots for whatever project professor min has thrown at them. it’s too late to fix yourselves up! just look natural!”

someone mumbles something that sounds like ‘easy for you to say when you look like a greek god’ loud enough for everyone to hear, and hyunjin struggles to keep a straight face.

riki leans back and sees jungwon in the lineup, camera hanging around his neck as his eyes sweep the room. then, they settle on riki, and the two of them exchange a smile before riki leans forward again.

he thanks the stars for deciding to work on another piece today (it’s still related to jungwon, just not obviously so), and not the piece that looks an awful lot like the boy laying in a field of stars.

instead, he’s working on an oil pastel painting of a ragtag bouquet of wildflowers sitting in a broken vase. his fingers are stained a multitude of colors, but riki only sees blue and grey on the canvas, making him sigh.

“i get to see you in your natural element, huh?”

riki chuckles before turning his head and jumping when jungwon’s camera lens is right in front of his face.

“welcome to my day job. it’s more of like an internship because i don’t get paid, and i really have to pay to be here.”

“what’re you working on?” jungwon checks his viewfinder before bringing his camera back to his face, pointing it towards the canvas.

“a bouquet of wildflowers.”

jungwon stops and stares at the painting for a moment before the corner of his mouth quirks up. “it kinda reminds me of… like how in the movies and stuff where a kid has a crush on another kid, and they pick flowers off the side of the road and stuff to give to them.”

riki stares at the wildflower bouquet.

yeah. that’s exactly what it is.

the story is on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill.

 

 

 

 

riki’s running again, except this time, he’s not running from something. out of the corner of his eye, he can see a clump of wildflowers.

he runs down a dirt road, past wrought iron gates towards a large, imposing building. riki thinks the atmosphere should be suffocating, but his heart is bursting from his chest as he hurries up the steps.

he runs down a carpeted hallway, sliding to a stop in front of a door and pushing it open to reveal jungwon sitting on the floor, playing with a toy airplane, making engine noises as he dictates the flight pattern.

he’s hiding the flowers behind his back, other hand on his knee as he catches his breath.

riki, what took you so long? jungwon sits up and smiles at him, and riki doesn’t know why he even bothered to try to catch his breath when jungwon always steals it away.

riki marches over to him and holds out the bouquet of flowers, turning his eyes away, blush on his face. he’d heard from some of the older kids that giving someone flowers is a nice way to let someone know that you like them.

for me?

he nods rapidly as jungwon takes the flowers and holds them up to his face to take a deep breath in. then he leans closer to riki and kisses his cheek.

thank you! i love them!

 

 

 

 

“riki?”

riki tenses, and suddenly, he’s out of the orphanage and back in his art class, hand hovering over the canvas with a yellow pastel.

he looks over to jungwon as if it’s the first time he’s seeing him.

“oh. i. sorry. i spaced for a second. did you say something?”

jungwon chuckles at him and holds up his camera. “you don’t mind if i take pictures of you while you’re working, right? i’m not disturbing you? i’ll keep the flash off. i like the natural lighting in here.”

“yes. that’s fine.” riki is sure jungwon’s smile might be the death of him, especially when his eyes crinkle on the ends and his dimple makes an appearance.

jungwon doesn’t stray too far from riki for the entire class period. when class ends, hyunjin says pictures of him will only be approved if they get his good side, and the entire class groans again.

“is he always like that?”

“yeah. but he’s a good teacher, even if he’s a bit narcissistic, and maybe a little dumb.” the two of them giggle quietly.

jungwon waits for riki to finish cleaning up, gripping the straps of his backpack nervously. when riki comes out of the bathroom, he’s surprised to see jungwon still waiting for him.

“do you have another class after this?” he blurts out when riki approaches him.

“uh… not until later in the afternoon.”

they stand there awkwardly for a moment before jungwon looks up, and riki is about to pass out after seeing the pink blush on his cheeks.

“do you wanna grab some lunch together? if you don’t have plans. and if you’re hungry.”

“yeah, i’d-” riki’s voice cracks, and he feels the tips of his ears flush red when jungwon smiles at him. “sure. let’s grab some lunch. you can show me the pictures you took?”

riki opens the door for jungwon, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees hyunjin sitting at his desk, arms crossed over his chest with an eyebrow raised. he knows he probably recognizes jungwon from his pictures.

“not a word!” he hisses at him softly before following jungwon out the door.

through the window of the door, riki sees hyunjin press a hand to his heart in mock indignance.

 

 

 

 

are your nightmares worse because you’re so artistic? do you see the dreams in better detail?

riki doesn’t know how to answer that question. it’s one of many things that render him speechless, along with the pictures jungwon took of him that day.

he stares at the pictures jungwon shows him, face blank because the swirl of emotions raging in his body fights to make itself known, making riki shut down.

his face is pressed to close to the canvas, his nose is nearly touching it. there’s a piece of him with squinted eyes, one with one eye closed, and somehow, there’s colors all over his face and none of it on the canvas.

there’s a picture of him sitting back, shoulders hunched, head tilted as he tries to make sense of whatever is going on in his mind.

where did you go? it was like one second you were there, and the next you were gone.

it’s then he realizes he tucking away a piece of himself, a piece of jungwon into every piece he makes.

 

 

 

 

 

riki thinks his life is currently a dream because after spending lunch with jungwon that one day, the two of them fall into an easy rhythm of meeting each other for lunch more often.

which leads to them exchanging numbers.

which leads to them talking more.

which leads to them sharing intimate details of their lives into ungodly hours of the morning.

which leads to riki stumbling over his words and asking jungwon to be his boyfriend with a bouquet of wildflowers that have seen better days, but the way jungwon’s eyes sparkle at him, the way he blushes and gently takes the flowers from him with a gentle yes, they seal their budding relationship with an equally gentle kiss.

riki is positive he’s still dreaming.

 

 

 

 

then he’s reminded that all nightmares are still dreams, even if all dreams aren’t nightmares.

jungwon is sobbing into riki’s chest, shoulders shaking, arms wrapped tight around his ribs. the little things in his life have piled up and overwhelmed him, and all it takes is a tilt of riki’s head, furrowed eyebrows, a soft, concerned jungwon? and jungwon is falling apart in his arms.

riki picks him up, princess carries jungwon to his bed and settles against the headboard, holding jungwon close to him, gently rubbing his back.

he hears apologies falling from jungwon’s lips over and over again until riki presses a finger to his lips.

“don’t apologize for feeling stuff. you’re human.”

riki rests his cheek on top of jungwon’s head as he sniffles, holding tight to riki’s arm like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“i-i’m, so-sorry, riki. i d-don’t know w-what came o-over me.” jungwon hiccups in between his words, and riki closes his eyes, squeezing the boy tighter in his arms.

“don’t apologize. i’ll always be here to hold you together. i’ll put you back together when you fall apart.”

i’ll use the pieces of my heart to stitch you back together, until we’re so intertwined, we have no choice but to be together here, forever, in every instance of the universe.

it’s you. it’s you, it’s always been you.

riki kisses the top of his head, then his forehead, then his nose, laughing when he feels jungwon wrinkle it and brush the back of his hand against his face.

“gross,” he croaks out, burying his face into the side of riki’s neck.

 

 

 

 

riki is asleep in jungwon’s arms, face pressed into his chest when he starts to have a nightmare.

he’s not running this time, hands held up in surrender. there’s a dagger pressed against his throat, and he knows the hand holding it belongs to jungwon.

please don’t make me do this, riki.

then don’t do it, won.

“riki!”

riki’s eyes snap open and he sits up violently, eyes darting around the room.

“w-where am i?”

“my apartment. riki, jeeze. calm down.” jungwon reaches out to hold his face, and when they make eye contact, riki’s eyes widen. jungwon’s eyes are red.

he’s still dreaming.

riki blinks, and he’s chained down to a cold slab of stone. jungwon leans over him, reaching out to grab his chin and forcing riki to look at him, eyes burning blue.

who sent you?

no one. i came on my own.

are you stupid?

yeah. probably.

 

 

 

 

riki wrings his hands nervously. it’s time for the end of the year gallery showing. the photography students already had theirs the previous week (riki might’ve cried a little bit when he walked through jungwon’s exhibit. over half the pictures are of him), and riki had a hell of a time picking what pieces to display and how to display them.

to the naked eye, it just looks like riki picked a subject and stuck to it for the entire year.

to him, and hopefully to jungwon, he’s laying his soul bare for the world to see.

he spots sungjun, taehun, and kyungjun walking through his section, sungjun pointing excitedly at some details while his boyfriends nod.

they eventually make their way over to riki, waiting for someone to finish gushing before sungjun hops over to him excitedly.

“hey roomie! good to see all your sleepless nights were put to good use.”

riki chuckles quietly, reaching out to shake hands with taehun.

“it’s really amazing, the details you’ve captured and how jungwon looks different in every piece but he’s still very much jungwon.”

hearing it said aloud makes riki sweat.

“how long did you stare at him to be able to paint him like that?” sungjun asks, jabbing at riki with his elbow, knowing smirk on his face.

“jeeze, junnie. let the man live.” kyungjun pulls sungjun way from him with a roll of his eyes, mouthing sorry to riki as he leads him away.

“how do you deal with him? i know i live with him and all, but how do you deal with him?”

taehun glances over his shoulder at the other two and smiles before shrugging his shoulders. “we just do. he’s a menace, but he’s our menace, at least. has jungwon been by?”

riki shakes his head. “he’ll be by later.”

“should… i wish you good luck for anything? i feel like i should for some reason.”

“no. i… no.”

 

 

 

 

 

jungwon finally makes an appearance towards the end of the night. riki watches as he makes a beeline for his corner, and when he turns towards the first piece, he freezes.

riki watches as he stops and stares at each piece, eyes searching for details like an art student does.

in each piece, jungwon is reaching for something.

for me, riki corrects in his head.

he watches jungwon mimic the action, reaching out for the pieces and then letting his arm drop.

when he finally makes it to the end, riki is standing there waiting for him, nervous grin on his face.

jungwon searches his eyes for an answer to a question he doesn’t know how to ask. riki knows the look all too well.

“… do you believe in soulmates, jungwon?”

the boy is quiet for a moment, turning back to look at riki’s art before turning towards him once more.

he holds out his hand, a bright smile overtaking his face.

riki stops to take in jungwon's details. he takes in the way the corners of jungwon's eyes crinkle, the perfect crescent moon shape they make. he smiles at the slight wrinkle in his nose, how his cheeks look like they hurt from how wide his smile is, framed by his dimples.

jungwon looks perfect.

i’m finally done running, riki realizes, reaching for jungwon’s hand and taking it, threading their fingers together.

riki pulls him into his arms, and it feels like he belongs there, like he’s always belonged there.

“no,” jungwon says quietly, brushing riki’s hair away from his eyes, “but i believe in you.”