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Yoo Jonghyuk had been watching Kim Dokja for a long time.
In the beginning, it had been out of distrust. After all, there was not a trace of honesty behind that signature sly smirk. Not to mention, he always seemed to always be getting everyone (especially himself) into needless trouble.
As time went by, the distrust became a grudging compromise, which, by turn, softened into curiosity, and suddenly Yoo Jonghyuk found himself continuously looking towards the man who seemed to know everything — the man whom he trusted wholly and completely.
Well, maybe not completely — although he always expected it, he was never sure when Kim Dokja would convert to his self-sacrificial tendencies.
Yoo Jonghyuk had been watching Kim Dokja for a long time, so he could tell that the stupid bastard was definitely not getting enough sleep.
His suspicions had started when he stepped into the darkened hallways of the Industrial Complex, shaking off the weight of his nightmares. The dreams had always been the same — the faces of his teammates dying, the heavy expanse of the stars, the bitterness of throwing it all away, of leaving his world behind to restart in another one, again and again and again.
A lonely light from his peripheral vision brushed his thoughts to the side. Frowning, he walked closer to it. Whatever was lurking in the Complex this late at night was clearly an enemy.
When he got a better look at the figure, his hand stopped on his sword hilt.
Kim Dokja was crouched in the shadows, staring intensely at the white glare coming from his phone with his lips moving silently.
“Kim Dokja.”
What are you doing here so late?
The man looked up, shooting him a wary smile. “Yoo Jonghyuk, what brings you out here?”
“...Bad dreams.” Yoo Jonghyuk wouldn’t have said that to anyone else. Even if he wanted to share his weakness with the others, they wouldn’t understand the crushing numbness, the empty battles, the endless regressing —
Kim Dokja was the only one who seemed to fathom even a fraction of his agony.
He simply nodded, eyes flicking back to his phone. He understood (of course he would), and Yoo Jonghyuk couldn’t help but study him and wonder and worry, staring at the white-claden figure on the dark walls of the Complex.
How long have you been here? Why aren’t you sleeping?
He didn’t ask that. His pride wouldn’t let him.
Kim Dokja didn’t have anything else to say, so he left, but not without checking on him the next night.
And the next.
And the next.
He was always awake and hidden in some corner, illuminated only by the small light from his phone. Sometimes, he wasn’t even looking at it, but muttering to himself, drawing out shapes on the floor. Planning.
He seemed too focused to know that he was being watched every night.
And, yes, he was up. Every single night .
Yoo Jonghyuk knew he never got enough sleep, but Kim Dokja didn’t seem to be getting any.
After that, he noticed more about Kim Dokja during the day time. How he zoned out while their teammates laughed and argued over dinner. How his shoulders sagged down, as if he couldn’t even keep up the effort to straighten them.
Now, he watched with a baleful eye as this man — this stupid, idiotic man — slumped wearily against the wall as he bounced off ideas and scenarios. It had been a routine of theirs; before each scenario, Kim Dokja would confer with Yoo Jonghyuk one-on-one. These were conversations that usually immersed Yoo Jonghyuk deeply, as he latched on to every detail to complete the scenario.
For the past week, however, he had focused less on the words and more on the man speaking them.
Kim Dokja had always had been pale, but now he was ghostly to an extent Yoo Jonghyuk didn’t even think possible. For someone who definitely hadn’t shied from pouring coins into his stats, his coat hung too loosely on his thin frame.
Dark shadows sank under his eyes, sharply contrasting against his skin. A small frown involuntarily twisted on Yoo Jonghyuk’s face when he saw them. He knew all too well that it wasn’t his imagination that those shadows stretched longer than the day before.
His hand tightened on the hilt of sword. At this point, Kim Dokja was going to pass out from exhaustion, or, at the very least, get beaten because someone, definitely not Yoo Jonghyuk, had enough of his idiocy.
“Yoo Jonghyuk?” Kim Dokja poked him in the shoulder. “Are you zoning out?”
“No.”
“Huh.” Kim Dokja shrugged. “You look kind of tired to me. I don’t think you’re getting enough sleep.”
Yoo Jonghyuk tightened his grip so hard it was a wonder that the hilt of his sword hadn’t been snapped in half.
The utter audacity of this man.
Kim Dokja put on a smug, albeit tired, grin, but Yoo Jonghyuk saw a touch of concern behind it. He growled. He didn’t need Kim Dokja to worry about him. He especially didn’t need Kim Dokja to worry about him when he looked within seconds from passing out.
“Kim Dokja.” Yoo Jonghyuk flexed his fingers. Don’t choke him, don’t choke him. “You hypocritical bastard. You’re one to talk.”
The hypocritical bastard in question leaned back placatingly. It made Yoo Jonghyuk even more furious that he seemed genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”
Once again, Yoo Jonghyuk contemplated knocking the man out. It would kill two birds with one stone: getting him rest and shutting him up.
“Tell me why you’ve been staying up every single night.”
Kim Dokja visibly stiffened. Good. Let’s see him try to explain his way out of this one. “But we saw each other just once…Were you — were you watching me?”
“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Jonghyuk stepped closer. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
He backed up quickly. “Ah, I…”
Yoo Jonghyuk raised an eyebrow expectantly, but just as the other man finally began to look slightly ashamed, and rightfully so, Shin Yoosung called out from the training field outside.
“Dokja-ahjussi, Lee Gilyoung is being cruel again!”
“Ah, coming!” Kim Dokja hastily retreated to the squabbling children, relief evident on his face. He pointedly had his back turned away from Yoo Jonghyuk.
That bastard, he was running away.
Later, when Yoo Jonghyuk attempted to talk some sense into Kim Dokja, the other would quickly duck back to the direction he came from. He couldn’t even get within ten feet of the man before he was out of sight.
So Yoo Jonghyuk had to be content with watching from far away, while Kim Dokja laughed easily with the others and pretended that he wasn’t about to collapse and that everything was fine.
Once, as if he thought no one was looking, Kim Dokja dragged a shaking hand over his eyes, the easy expression he carefully wore slipping away to reveal deep exhaustion.
For some reason, when Yoo Jonghyuk saw his distant figure, his heart gave a painful clench.
///
It went on for a week.
By now, everyone had definitely noticed. Although Kim Dokja now actively avoided Yoo Jonghyuk, he couldn’t escape everyone else, although he tried his best. He dodged Lee Hyunsung’s worried remarks, Yoo Sangah’s gentle prodding, the children’s concerned exchanges. Even Han Sooyoung looked serious when she scolded him.
Complete exhaustion wore at his face as they pushed through scenarios. Yoo Jonghyuk could see it in the droop of his wings, smeared with blood and filth. Fatigue weighed down on every bone in his body. He didn’t say anything about it, either, which was the most frustrating part.
Even worse, whenever someone else tried to point it out, he would just run away again.
The rest of them all had different reaction. The children looked sad, while Jung Heewon seemed to be getting angry. Once in a while, she would look at her fist, as if preparing to swing it at a certain someone. Yoo Jonghyuk was quite familiar with her contemplative expression; he had thought about doing it a lot himself.
Finally, when it was clear that no, Kim Dokja was not going to just go to sleep like a normal person, the rest of the crew had an unofficial emergency meeting.
“Has he gone with the children?” Han Sooyoung glanced down both hallways before clicking the door of the meeting room shut. She turned back towards the group, popping the lollipop out of her mouth. “Good. Now, I’m sure we all know why everybody’s here?”
The room erupted in noise.
“That stupid ahjussi! He’s so pale, he’s getting uglier by the day — ”
“ — know what he told me during one of the scenarios when I tried to scold him for overworking? ‘Don’t just worry about me, Heewon-ssi. You need to take care of yourself, too!’”
“ — stood underneath him the whole time during the scenario, he looked like he was about to pass out and fall in the middle of the sky — ”
“ — if he wouldn’t keep trying to run away whenever we mention it — ”
“ — seriously worried about him, is he even eating ?”
Han Sooyoung raised her hand, and everyone stilled from seeing her uncharacteristically calm demeanor.
After the room finally quieted for her input, she smashed her palm down on the table with an angry bang.
“That bastard! If he’d just let us help him instead of making us tear our hair out in worry! What kind of person is stupid enough to ignore the basic necessity of sleep?”
Kim Dokja, that was who.
Yoo Jonghyuk took the opportunity to speak up. “We need to make his health our first priority right now.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Trying to talk with him about it doesn’t seem to help,” Yoo Sangah contemplated. “Perhaps we should try something more forceful…”
Sometimes, Yoo Jonghyuk forgot how unforgivably brutal the level-headed woman could be.
Jung Heewon didn’t seem to have any problem with her suggestion. “Perfect, we just knock him out.”
The room went silent again. Even Lee Hyunsung, who was against needless violence, didn’t protest.
Han Sooyoung sucked contemplatively on her yellow candy.
“Tell me…” she began slowly, “how many of you have thought about knocking out Kim Dokja just to get him to rest?”
Without hesitation, every single person in the room silently raised their hand.
There was a resounding crunch as Han Sooyoung bit down on her lollipop.
“Well then.”
///
Despite their best efforts, Kim Dokja still refused to sleep.
He had gotten even better at escaping their clutches, which shouldn’t have been possible given his tired posture and frequent yawning (which he was getting increasingly worse at hiding). Even the constellations had started sponsoring coins to anyone who would even try bringing up the subject.
He still distanced himself from Yoo Jonghyuk, who only watch from the sidelines as the man slumped over his work, still muttering intensely to himself and none the wiser.
He couldn’t find him anywhere in the Complex at night.
No matter what passive-aggressive methods the others used on him (some more aggressive than others), Kim Dokja brushed them away with a smile that was becoming dangerously faker by the day.
No matter how much bribes the others offered, how many scenarios they completed, how exhausted he looked with each passing day, he simply wouldn’t stop.
So they were forced to listen to his stupid plans, follow him along to his stupid battles, because if they tried to stop him, who knew how much worse he would get? At least this way, he had people by his side who could protect him.
Utilizing the children didn’t convince him to sleep, either.
“I’ll rest later, Yoosung-ah,” he ruffled the pouting girl’s hair. “I just have to recheck this scenario’s info one more time.”
In the background, Yoo Sangah and Lee Hyunsung hurriedly pulled Jung Heewon back from raising her wooden practice sword.
///
When Kim Dokja blinked dazedly while relaying the strategy for their next scenario, seconds from toppling over, Yoo Jonghyuk had enough . Within seconds, he crossed over and grabbed him.
“Go.” He barked at the others. “It’s just a simple hidden scenario. You’re capable of handling it yourselves.”
The others glanced at each other, then at Kim Dokja, who was struggling in his grip. They nodded knowingly.
Kim Dokja watched, bewildered, as they walked away, stony-faced.
“Eh?” He yelped. “I didn’t agree to this! Yoo Jonghyuk, you stupid sunfish, let go!”
“This is for your own good, Dokja-ssi,” Yoo Sangah smiled reassuringly. The others seemed relatively content, despite the look of utter betrayal on his face. Only Lee Hyunsung seemed a little sympathetic, although Jung Heewon’s steely gaze schooled his expression back to a reserved one.
Han Sooyoung cackled as they went off. “Don’t worry, you jerk! They’ve got me with them!”
“That’s not comforting at all.”
“Bye, Ahjussi! Bye, Hyung!” Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung waved cheerfully.
Kim Dokja watched them leave in shock.
Yoo Jonghyuk wasn’t focused on the rest of the group, though. The bastard he was holding still seemed to have enough energy to fight him off, not that he was going to let it happen. Still, Kim Dokja was as slippery as a squid — he had to find a place to trap him before he wriggled out of his grasp.
Switching his grip from Kim Dokja’s shoulder to his arms, he scanned the surroundings of the training field.
The closest thing to them was a bench resting at the edge of the field. That would do for now.
By this point, the rest of the party was out of sight. Yoo Jonghyuk
threw
guided the constellation, who was still struggling, to the seat of the bench. He planted himself squarely in front of him.
Good, now he had blocked all potential escape paths.
That didn’t mean he could relax just yet, though — he was sure Kim Dokja had plenty of tricks up his sleeve.
“What are you doing, you damn sunfish! We were going to clear a scenario today!”
“They still will.” Yoo Jonghyuk said firmly. “You’re staying here.”
“But I need to help them to make sure nothing goes wrong, and — ” Kim Dokja froze for a moment. “What about you?”
“I’m staying as well. To make sure you’re not running off anywhere.”
Kim Dokja looked up at him, bewildered. “Why?”
Yoo Jonghyuk was momentarily confused. Why what? Who else in the party could even have a chance at stopping Kim Dokja from running off?
“I’m here to make sure you’re getting enough sleep.”
“I am getting enough sleep!” The lie slid out his lips as easily as his breath. Did this man even have a bit of a moral conscience?
Knowing Kim Dokja, probably not.
Yoo Jonghyuk simply stared down at him.
“Okay, maybe I’m not getting as much sleep as I should. But at least I’m still sleeping!”
“Liar.”
“How would you know that? You didn’t even use Lie Detection! I really am getting sleep!”
[‘Lie Detection’ has been activated.]
[The statement has been confirmed as false.]
Calculating silence, as if Kim Dokja was trying to figure out how much he could get away with.
“Well, I don’t need any.”
“Health potions aren’t going to make up for this. You need natural sleep.”
“I still need to plan for the scenarios.” Kim Dokja had a calm exterior, as always, but Yoo Jonghyuk could tell he was grasping at straws. Dammit, why couldn’t this guy just accept that he was tired? “I’ll sleep when we’ve completed them all.”
Yoo Jonghyuk studied his pale skin, juxtaposed with his dark hair. The shadows under his eyes reminded him of the time where he had been on the brink of death after facing Asmodeus, cold in the sickbed and too still and barely breathing and every part of his story unraveling and —
This stubborn bastard. He was actually serious.
“You’re sleeping right now, whether you want to or not.”
“Wh — And how are you going to do that?” Kim Dokja mustered up a very punchable smile, not seeming the slightest bit scared, even though Yoo Jonghyuk was towering over him. “Threaten me?”
Yoo Jonghyuk thought about it, perhaps for a bit too long.
“I’m not going to threaten you.”
“...I don’t believe you.”
Yoo Jonghyuk was still barring Kim Dokja from moving, though the man’s eyes had stopped darting around. Now, he gazed up at Yoo Jonghyuk defiantly, but there was something like uncertainty in his eyes. No, Kim Dokja was too shameless to act uncertain when talking to Yoo Jonghyuk. Was it confusion then?
“You haven’t even heard all the comments the others have been making about hitting you until you’re passed out.”
“...”
“Yoo Jonghyuk, don’t tell me you’re going to…”
The unfinished thought hung in the air.
“No, threatening you won’t work.” Yoo Jonghyuk said decidedly, watching Kim Dokja’s smile turn nervous. A small part of him relished the unnerved expression.
“I’ll just have to force you to instead.”
Kim Dokja’s eyes widened, but before he could flee, Yoo Jonghyuk’s arm shot forward. Kim Dokja winced, shielding for his head to brace for a blow. This gave Yoo Jonghyuk the chance to swiftly sit down beside him, hooking their arms together and pulling him close until they were shoulder to shoulder.
[The constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ wonders why Yoo Jonghyuk and Kim Dokja are suddenly holding hands.]
[The constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ is squealing with joy!]
[Many constellations are watching with interest.]
[2,000 coins have been sponsored.]
He tried not to think about how ridiculous this looked, tried to ignore the stream of constellations (especially Uriel) spamming them an onslaught of coins.
The man in white looked at him, bewildered. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t know what to say, so all that came out of his mouth was, “Shut up.”
More messages and coins poured in.
Still, he maintained a tight grip. If he couldn’t force the guy to sleep, he could at least hold him here so that he could take an actual break —not the so-called ones where he just pored over his phone and thought up plans.
With the realization that he wasn’t knocked out, but instead had been trapped in a steely hold, Kim Dokja began squirming again. Needless to say, there was no avail.
Okay, so a relaxing break wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
Of course, Yoo Jonghyuk hadn’t expected him to easily give in. Though, had the other man had his full strength, he wasn’t sure if he could even restrain him like this, much less with just one arm.
Kim Dokja sighed, finally stilling. It was sooner than Yoo Jonghyuk had anticipated, too — he must really be tired.
He turned towards Yoo Jonghyuk with a long-suffering smile.
“This is really uncomfortable, you know.”
“Shut up.”
“Uriel is screaming right now.”
“This isn’t for Uriel.”
They sat in silent after that.
Kim Dokja kept side-eyeing Yoo Jonghyuk as if he was expecting him to punch him or something. Yoo Jonghyuk decided to ignore him, but he kept his grip iron-tight on the man. There was still a very high chance that he would try to escape.
Even through the layers of white cloth, he could feel the boniness of his wrist, sharp and delicate and too thin. Kim Dokja might have spent tons of coins on buffs, but it didn’t help if he didn’t eat .
A flare of steady anger rose up within Yoo Jonghyuk with more heat than he expected. This man — this idiotic bastard — took care of others so much. Why couldn’t he take care of himself for once?
“Even if this isn’t for Uriel, she’s having a heyday right now.”
“Kim Dokja. Shut up .”
Another round of silence.
Yoo Jonghyuk should’ve known better to realize it wouldn’t last long.
“Jonghyuk-ah,” Kim Dokja’s voice became disgustingly teasing. Yoo Jonghyuk frowned at the other’s sly tone. This was clearly going to be trouble. “That’s probably the tenth time today that you’ve told me to shut up. How rude. Why can’t you be a bit nicer to your Life and Death Companion?”
“Putting on a sweet act isn’t going to do anything,” Yoo Jonhyuk growled. “Don’t make me sick.”
Kim Dokja dropped the facade with a scowl, though the expression was much more subtle than the previous smile. His arm squirmed again, but he was still very much stuck to Yoo Jonghyuk’s shoulder.
He seemed quite perturbed by his futile escape attempts, or perhaps he was uncomfortable from their close contact. Yoo Jonghyuk didn’t blame him — he couldn’t remember the last time someone was this close to him, and it would be no surprise if the other man shared the sentiment. The weird messages coming from the constellations definitely didn’t make it better.
“Why are you doing this? Everyone else seemed like they were in on it, too.”
“I told you. You need sleep.”
“But I don’t actually! And besides, it’s not like it matters, anyway, so — ”
“It does matter!” Yoo Jonghyuk snapped, and Kim Dokja recoiled at the sudden heat. Yoo Jonghyuk almost did the same thing himself. Since when did he make outbursts like that?
“I — I didn’t expect anyone to care about my sleep schedule so much.” Kim Dokja attempted a smirk, as if he were trying to joke his way out of this.
“We do care.”
Especially about you .
Kim Dokja fell silent.
Yoo Jonghyuk felt the embarrassment well up again. He couldn’t believe he had said we so easily. In his past lives, he had always been in a group. But we was always a meaningless word. We always ended up being just him, the sole figure fighting for his forgotten companions.
And now, he put so much emphasis on the word because...because he wanted Kim Dokja to believe that they did care.
When had he started feeling this way?
Maybe he was going soft.
But he couldn’t help it, could he? No matter how much he tried to deny, Kim Dokja was now a crucial part of his life.
Yoo Jonghyuk thought, I want to protect him.
Kim Dokja had gone surprisingly quiet. His face was turned downwards at his lap, eyes widened as if stunned.
It dawned on Yoo Jonghyuk that Kim Dokja had been alone for a very long time, just like him. Even now, they always looked towards him for a brilliant plan, for a sure path to victory.
If Yoo Jonghyuk had learned to rely on them for a change, perhaps Kim Dokja could learn the same.
They remained quiet for a while, until the stiffness from the other man slowly, gradually relaxed, and Yoo Doonghyuk, in spite of himself, felt relieved.
Kim Dokja said nothing, still, so he said nothing as well.
Instead, he focused on the steady beating of his own heart, the heart that had stopped too many lifetimes for one person, and the soft pulse of Kim Dokja’s heart, the heart that had stopped too many moments for one lifetime.
He listened to their hearts, watched the eyelashes flutter underneath Kim Dokja’s bangs, felt his head sink just a bit deeper onto his shoulder, and simply breathed. Something that had been fighting inside him for a long time had finally stilled.
Yoo Jonghyuk turned his gaze away and observed the sky in front of him. It was surprisingly bright and clear today — there was not a cloud amongst the melodic, calming blue. One would never expect to see this sky in the middle of an apocalypse.
Something heavy settled against his shoulder. He looked back down, where Kim Dokja lay motionless at his side, save for the soft rising and falling of his chest.
The idiot had gone to sleep at last.
He studied him for a moment. Even resting, his brows were slightly tensed, as if he was still pondering over a scenario. His lips were tightened, and the frown had caused lines to form on his face, forming over faint scars.
Yoo Jonghyuk wanted so badly to crease away those lines.
The man resting quietly next to him had dealt with horrors no normal person should’ve faced. He had toppled thrones, battled gods, and had practically laughed in the face of Death itself. But at this moment, he looked so pale, and exhausted, and impossibly weak.
Yoo Jonghyuk knew Kim Dokja was not weak. The brunt of his responsibility just wore away at his bones.
Even in his sleep, the man was still scheming, never giving himself a proper break.
He shifted uncomfortably from Yoo Jonghyuk’s shoulder, almost dropping onto the bench. Yoo Jonghyuk caught him just in time.
Gently, so not to wake him, he shifted Kim Dokja’s legs onto the bench and slowly lowered his head onto his lap.
[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ is deeply touched.]
[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ is weeping at this companionship.]
[The constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ reminds her that she still needs to watch over her incarnation in battle.]
[10,000 coins have been sponsored.]
[The constellation ‘Queen of the Darkest Spring’ tells to others to shush so that the Heir of the Underworld can get his damn rest.]
The constellations finally fell silent.
Yoo Jonghyuk kept his gaze on Kim Dokja.
A plethora of emotions welled up inside him as he studied the sleeping figure. This was the man who went out of his way just to get on his nerves. This was the man who had saved his life multiple times, who had readily sacrificed himself for his companions. This was the man he would readily follow to the end of the Star Stream.
...This was also the man who was currently passed out on his lap, robbing him of all his ability to move.
Great. Now he was stuck.
He really wished he had thought this through.
///
Yoo Jonghyuk had stopped counting the hours he had sat there.
Whenever he tried to move, Dokja twitched and started muttering. Yoo Jonghyuk had to stay still again to make sure the man went back to sleep.
Damn it, that bastard hadn’t rested properly for weeks! Why couldn’t he just fall into a deep sleep so Yoo Jonghyuk could carry him to a proper bed?
It kept happening, so he sat there, not daring to move, until the bright afternoon sky had long softened into light pink.
“Oh-ho, what do we have here?”
Han Sooyoung came up to him with a smirk. Damnit, was the party back from the hidden scenario already?
“Han Sooyoung…” Yoo Jonghyuk said. There was a hint of a growl in his voice, but he wasn’t sure if it came as a warning or from irritation. Looking at the smugness oozing from her petite face, he decided it was definitely both.
Help me. He wanted to say. He’s been unconscious on my lap for half a day. I need to get him to bed.
But of course, that was not something he could say to her.
For a moment, he thought her gaze on Kim Dokja’s face seemed to soften a bit. But then she grinned again.
“That guy’s asleep at last. You didn’t knock him out, did you?”
“Han Sooyoung.”
“Well, you seem to be doing fine, so I’ll leave you to it.”
“ Han Sooyoung .”
“You’ll never hear the end of this.” She cackled as she left.
That woman…. Yoo Jonghyuk almost rose out of the bench, but Kim Dokja shifted again, so he forced himself to stay still, his pride smarting from her remarks.
Dammit, Kim Dokja.
Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung were the next to walk by, and a look of relief and fondness passed over their faces when they saw him.
“Maybe they were right about your comradeship.” The Sword admitted grudgingly. “I’m glad Dokja-ssi trusts you enough to sleep on your lap.”
[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ whole-heartedly agrees with her incarnation.]
Wait. There seems to be a misunderstanding here , Yoo Jonghyuk thought, but the pair had already left, once again leaving him alone with an unconscious Kim Dokja.
As the sun sank even deeper, more people came and went, none of them being helpful in the slightest.
“Ahjussi actually doesn’t look that bad,” Lee Jihye commented as she leaned over to get a better look, “when he doesn’t have that ugly smile.”
If you’re not going to say anything useful, you might as well leave.
The children had even stopped squabbling when they passed by, staying silent so Kim Dokja could get his rest.
I thought at least you guys would take care of your beloved ahjussi.
Mostly, they all just left Yoo Jonghyuk alone with the grown man on his lap, sparing him the occasional glance and smiling among themselves.
He had never felt more betrayed.
Finally, his sister passed by. She gave him a knowing smile, which irked him for some reason. Even you, Mia?
“Dinner’s ready, but I guess you’ll have to wait for a while, Oppa, since you’re a bit preoccupied.”
“Get him off me.”
“You could’ve done so a long time ago if you really wanted to,” Yoo Mia simply said.
He glared, but he couldn’t refute.
He was going to kill them all.
Yoo Jonghyuk turned back down towards the sleeping man, directing his glare at him as she, too, left them.
You bastard, you’ve been laying here for hours.
The dim light gave his pale cheeks a rosier hue, softening the lines of his thin face. He didn’t fidget in his sleep anymore, and his expression had finally smoothened to something calmer, sweeter. A flicker of breeze shifted strands of inky black hair in front of his eyes.
Yoo Jonghyuk’s glare couldn’t help but soften a bit.
Slowly, cautiously, he lowered his hand and brushed the bangs back from Kim Dokja’s forehead.
He stirred at the touch, but it didn’t rouse him from his sleep. The sides of his lips curled naturally, completely unlike the smirks that Yoo Jonghyuk was used to.
Watching his peaceful expression, Yoo Jonghyuk felt his heart squeeze quietly.
From the distance, he could hear their companions’ merry laughter, but it sounded so distant and far away, as if he and Kim Dokja were in a separate world of their own.
The sliver of sun grew a little smaller, revealing an endless expanse of stars overhead, an endless number of constellations watching their story.
Yoo Jonghyuk rested his gaze on Kim Dokja once more, and wondered, not for the first time, what he was dreaming about.