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the god
Kang Hyungu was born into the universe in a swirl of burning stars, mixed with the slow trickle of shadows and completed with the crashing dust of space. His spirit was formed under a silent sky, surrounded by the ghost of constellations yet to be made. Near the beginning of creation, his soul echoed through time, rippling into the very corners of infinity. He sparkled in the void, silent for many years as the paths of fate weaved around him.
On one still evening, when the galaxy was tranquil, he crashed through space with a blast of electric blues and deep indigos. He sped through the expanse of the solar system, passing swirling planets that hadn’t found their place, past the comets too far from the sun. Hyungu met the Earth in a collision of power. That fateful day, Kang Hyungu the God of Night had graced mortals with his eternal stare.
He wandered what was known as Earth for years, staring up at the home he used to know, wondering why he had fallen from the stars. Achieving consciousness, Hyungu had known the blunt reality. He would live forever, through plague and misfortune, and would outlive every era. While everything around him slowly withered away, he would continue to bloom. A god that walked amongst humans, a punishment worse than not existing at all.
His time spent on Earth consisted of appeasing the humans. Nights were lonely, full of darkness and woe’s they rather forget, plagued by memories they never wanted. Humans feared the night, avoiding their shadows like poison. It was his job to guide them through the pain, creating stars that would shine through the clouds, a moon that shed light on the dwelling corners they couldn’t see. Hyungu worked tirelessly to make the night as kind as possible to the turbulent minds of mortals.
Instead of fear of the great unknown, they began to get curious. All these constellations, all those distant flickering lights, what were they? They become beacons of wonder, a beautiful distraction. Humans began to dream, and no longer was the darkness of night as scary. Hyungu protected not only those long hours but the people who were always haunted by the pain they were put through.
Hyungu watched Humans for many years. They created societies, communities full of different values, rules and regulations to make sure everything was intact. God’s entrusted the species to not fall into chaos, hoping their mortality would be their true strength in creating a civilised society.
He used to think his fate was the worst imaginable, but when he peered upon the despair of humanity, the grief they experienced when one of them were churned back into the universe, he couldn’t help but be sorrowful for them.
As a God, he didn’t connect like humans did. He kept himself in isolation, living in the crumbling cottage that had been made for him when he landed, growing his flowers in solitude. There was no reason for him to tether his heart to another, for he would just have to watch them die as he would live, their scent lingering in his house.
Hyungu didn’t want friends, and most importantly, he didn’t want to fall in love.
But he should have known better than to have questioned the trajectory of fate.
the boy of whom the god fell for
It happened very early on in humanity’s history. The land was mostly farms, villages made up of tiny populations, quaint homes, horses lugging around wagons full of hays and muddy roads. At times, Hyungu would admire the village near his house with wistful sighs, wondering what it was like to love without the fear of never seeing them again for infinity. He listened to the giggles of children and the chimes of glee with an unwillingly jealously.
Hyungu had grown accustomed to the loneliness. Yet, on a bright day where he was waiting for the moon, he met his salvation and downfall.
It came in the form of an intruding farm boy, running away from his nagging mother and finding solace in his thriving garden of flowers. Hyungu had been petrified at the sound of a human so close, crouched in his usually private garden. His home was closed off from wanderers, and from the beginning of his existence, no one had found him.
Yet, surrounded by honeysuckles and lavender was a boy, nay a young man, living and breathing in his little world. Hyungu blinked from the doorway, wondering when humans had looked so otherworldly. The farm boy had his eyes squeezed shut, his fingers crossed tightly. In the golden sun, he glowed, sparkled under her sharp rays, messy black hair alit and bathed in a heavenly glow. There was mud smudged over his cheeks, under his nails, covering his rags and probably in his hair. But yet, there was something oddly beautiful about his imperfections.
Hyungu spoke to him, “This is called intruding.”
The boy jumped up, falling backwards from his carefully placed position. His eyes snapped open, darker than the space he had been born into, yet more majestic than all the stars he had made. The moment they met his, Hyungu felt like creating an entirely new galaxy, the magic fizzling in his fingertips. It was the first time he spoke to one of the humans, and that moment would be embedded into his mind forever.
The farm boy huffed, “I didn’t know anyone lived here.”
“Well, someone does. And it’s me.”
“I’ve never seen you before,” The boy looked over him, raking his eyes up and down. He was still crouched in his flowers.
Hyungu raised an eyebrow, “I don’t go to the village.”
“Then how do you survive? Where do you get all your materials from? How long have you been here?”
Sighing, he didn’t realise humans were so persistent. He never realised they could be blunt, or they could be lacking in observance. This boy clearly had no etiquette, yet Hyungu found himself finding him oddly charming despite the few exchanges of words. Perhaps it was his deprived state of socialisation.
“I don’t have to answer any of your questions.”
The boy smiled a little, “I guess not. What’s your name?”
“Hyungu.”
He probably shouldn’t have answered him.
“Aren’t you going to ask my name?” The farm boy pushed, finally standing up. He was poor, evidently, but very few were thriving in humanity’s current state. His features were delicate, startling pretty.
Hyungu crossed his arms over his chest, “Do I need it?”
“It’s polite.”
“Is you breaking into my garden and interrogating me also considered polite?”
Once again, the boy smiled wider.
“My name is Giwook.”
“I didn’t ask for it.”
“Now you have it.”
Hyungu found his heart swelling.
That was the beginning of his fall. This fall was different from his collapse from space. His fall to earth had been unexpected, a merging of life and magic beating together to create something unknown and confusing. His fall for Giwook had been soft and reassuring, reminding him of butterflies in spring, fluttering around his flowers and admiring the view of the colours.
Falling for Giwook had been too easy.
The boy was intriguing. After their first meeting, he integrated himself into Hyungu’s life without much warning. Suddenly, he had a human at his door, thirsty for knowledge he would never have access to in his small farming village. He was very interested in Hyungu, suspicious about his existence, where he came from, how long he had been living in the mysterious cottage. Giwook and his questions became an integral part of his home, balancing the foundation he never knew was tilted.
Above him, he heard the whispers of warning from God’s. They told him it was dangerous for his soul, for his heart to fall for a human. They begged him to cut ties, to go back to the isolation he learnt to deal with. But he didn’t listen to them. Suddenly he cared not for his original ethos. If he had been cursed with eternal life on a planet which was slowly dying the moment it was created, why did he have to listen to them. If he wanted to love and lose, that was his choice. Why did the God’s above get any say in how he lived his existence?
Giwook was intoxicating in everything that he was, and he didn’t want to let that go.
They spent every day together. Giwook helped him tend to his flowers, slept under the trees as they merely basked in one another’s presence. Hyungu made him food from the lush berries he grew, and Giwook would bring joy into his quiet little home. Together they grew like his garden, thorns and petals mixed. Soon, Hyungu began to see the way the farm boy blushed at the lingering of their hands, how he would stare, become attentive to his needs.
Hyungu forgot what it was like to be alone. How had he lived so many years by himself? He liked to believe his heart was waiting for the day Giwook was brought into the world, that he didn’t need anyone until the farmer came to him. Life felt promising for the first time, Hyungu felt full for the first time.
During a starry night that Hyungu had made centuries ago, they had finally fallen in love.
Giwook was stood before him, pointing out all the bright lights he had created. “I wonder what they are. I like to think they’re the souls of those who have died, watching over us.”
Hyungu didn’t want to tell him it was merely the fabric of the universe burning together. “Perhaps.”
“I think they’re beautiful.”
“I think you’re just as beautiful as every star, as every rising sun and every budding flower,” Hyungu breathed out, his words dancing in the wind.
Giwook had peered at him in shock, his pale cheeks dusting a blossom pink and eyes alit in emotion he couldn’t pinpoint. The farm boy took his hand, intertwining their fingers, safe in the world of flowers and constellations.
“Do you mean it?”
“With every inch of my soul.”
They kissed, lips colliding like the galaxies above. Hyungu held Giwook close like he was already losing him, bundled up in his embrace where he knew Giwook would be safe. Hyungu cursed at the God’s for making humans so capable of love, how he could melt against the farm boys’ lips, feel an overwhelming storm of emotions. Everything about Giwook was precious to him, from his brain to his smile, from his soul to his eyes. He wanted to cherish him forever.
Giwook was pulling him closer, “Never leave me.”
Hyungu laughed in tears, planting kisses all over his face, “I’ll stay with you forever.”
They had many years of harmony. Giwook vanished from his village, escaping the clutches of his manipulative mother, claiming he would marry a girl far from her. He came to live in the silence of Hyungu’s cottage, no longer farming in the long days but living in the cosy home of their love. The God felt blessed, waking up to Giwook next to him, adorned in blankets. They created a humble life together, blinded by destiny and affection.
It was no longer his house but their home. Giwook started to collect belongings, lost items that he cherished, adding them to the collection of their solar system. On summer days they would spend hours in the garden, relaxing and tending to the soil. In winter they learnt to love the indoors, bundled up in rich fabrics and creating little worlds for them to get lost in. This house used to be somewhere to merely live, but with Giwook it was a safe place.
“I’m a God, you know, of the Night,” he told his lover as they laid in bed, almost lulled into sleep.
Giwook stirred next to him, the rustling of sheets louder than his beating heart. “Makes sense.”
He paused, “That’s it? I just told you I’m a God.”
A hand tugged on his arm, so he rolled to his side to face Giwook, both tucked into the space between them. A single candle flickered, orange hues painting his skin and lifting the depth of darkness from the other man’s face. He looked so beautiful, raw in the night but authentic. He smiled softly, stroking Hyungu’s hair behind his ear.
“There was always something divine about you. I used to think it was because I was hopelessly in love, but it wasn’t that. Your home is more than material, it’s full of trinkets from times I cannot recognise. It’s not hard to see that you’re not human,” Giwook explained in a hushed whisper, planting a delicate kiss on his lips.
His heart was so full.
“And you’re okay with it?”
“I love all of you,” smiled the farmer, “God of Night you say? Will you make me a star?”
Hyungu kissed him, “My love, I’ll create an entire cosmos for you.”
He leant over his lover, loving him under the stars as the God’s watched with a frown.
doom
Then came the illness.
Hyungu didn’t want to dwell on it much, it hurt him more than he could express.
Only that Giwook died in his arms on a night where the clouds covered his constellations and there was no light for him to see. They stayed huddled in the garden where they met, by the wilting honeysuckles and withering lavender. Giwook whimpered into his chest as the God held him, shivering under the blankets.
They kissed with his dying breath, fragile body going limp in his arms as Hyungu’s tears fell on Giwook’s skin.
Hyungu sobbed over the heart that no longer beat and vowed to the universe that he would never love another.
destiny
He fell into despair and grief unlike any other. Hyungu knew he had been naive and reckless to fall in love with a human whose day ran like a sandglass. He knew at some point in their relationship he would have to face the reality and deal with the loss. But he thought they had more time. There was nothing quite as heart-wrenching as knowing he had to live out eternity missing him.
The God’s said they warned him. Hyungu cursed at their merciless existence above and blocked out their calls.
Destiny came to visit.
He did not know what mortal name she wished to be called by and did not care to find out. She appeared in his garden where Giwook once stood, looking at him with a sad gaze and sorrowful eyes. Destiny wore a dress made of the greatest stars in their universe, twinkling in her gown and crown made of broken galaxies. Her hair was golden, touching the ground and dripping like a waterfall. Hyungu glared at her, ridden with pain.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to pay my respects,” she said in a soothing tone.
He scoffed, “Respects? You knew of his fate; it was you who designed it. Yet you come to me.”
“My job is to balance out the probability of the universe with merit and woes. I am sorry the illness designed by my hands killed the one you held so dearly.”
Hyungu didn’t like her words. “If you had control, you could have changed his fate. Why did he have to succumb to the pain?”
She sighed; her breath laced with power. “I am not as powerful as you may think. While I cast the grander fates of Earth, humans and their will can shape the aim of my ways. Often, they find their way back to one another when I have planned otherwise.”
He felt the anger rising, “Then why wasn’t my will enough to break the path you forged for him? I loved him more than anything. I called out to you on the nights I thought he might fade away, begging for him to heal. You ignored my plea.”
Destiny shook her head, “I did not ignore you. There is one force that no human can rival no matter how hard they try. Death had decided who would be lost, and once the decision is made it cannot be undone. I have no power over who he chooses.”
Hyungu didn’t want to hear it, he wanted to be alone like he was before.
“Leave me.”
“God of Night, I am ever so sorry for your loss. I hope one day the God’s can make it up to you.”
the star made of hope
Hyungu hadn’t made a star for many years.
But as he wept with his soul, he made one more. A light that eventually would die out, but he hoped would burn for centuries. He hoped that if any scattering of Giwook’s soul was floating in the universe, one day he would see the star made just for him.
One day, if he ever looked up at the sky, that star would guide him home.
after
He lived on.
Era’s passed. Wars washed over him, battles full of death, revolutions brimming with passion. Hyungu watched it all with a contempt stare, wondering how many lovers had been torn apart by the ‘balance of probability’ destiny had to maintain. Humanity became less foreign to him, less scary. While Hyungu still kept himself separate, he sometimes left his home to explore how the village nearby changed.
Drastically, it evolved. Gone were dirt roads and horses, replaced with cobblestone and the first invention of the car. Hyungu found it fascinating how humanity was growing, how industrial life had become so normal yet so different from how they used to live. Hyungu lived through the ages and saw how fashion changed, morals were challenged.
He also watched with sorrow as medicine became clever. How it saved people so easily.
Every day he thought about Giwook. The pain lessened, but the hollow ache in his heart never left. Hyungu knew he would never love anyone else. Yet, it was horrible to admit some of his memory of Giwook was fading. Small things he wished never to forget evaded him. The way he smelt, or how his hands held his. The way he kissed. It was lost in the fog of immortality.
But Hyungu would never forget how Giwook made him feel.
That star he created so many centuries ago still burnt. Its light was dying, fading by the day, but it was still there.
a change
The twentieth century was starkly different to when time had begun. Hyungu quite liked the life humans had made themselves, the radical change that continued. It was refreshing to see that love was starting to know no boundaries. The God’s truly put so much trust in the species to find the answer on their own. They were rich in history, in diversity and stories. Billions of years had made them more aware, and eventually, they had become a species of recognition and change.
Hyungu solemnly watched from his lonely window. He sighed often, looking at the cold side of the bed that would never see another soul.
The village that he come to love had grown. It was considered a town now, with a population growing so much it became compressed. Expansion happened inevitably, the fifties welcomed the diners with their red leather couches, the seventies brought the bowling alleys, the eighties gifted them with a shopping mall. It kept going, schools and churches until it was a place full of life and fun. It hurt his heart to see where Giwook’s old farm was, now a housing estate with not a single barn or animal.
Every trace of Giwook’s old life had vanished.
It was unrecognisable. Hyungu felt out of place, except for the night. When the town slept, he felt like he could breathe in the flood that was slowly drowning him.
Near the end of the century, he felt it.
The change.
A ripple in the universe, a wheel turning above him. His heart ached, fingers fizzling with power that he couldn’t control. A wind blew harshly at him, pushing him back until he couldn’t breathe. Hyungu had no idea what had happened, but he had no energy to question it. Somewhere through the wall he had built, the God’s were calling out to him, but still, he blocked their calls, not wanting to hear their voices.
reborn
Twenty years after the change, Hyungu finally knew what had shifted in the universe.
The God of Night was sleepless. The town was calling him, and without much thought, he left the safety of his cottage. Everything was quite peaceful at night, all the stores closed and the streetlights casting a soft shine on the grey pavements. It would always astonish Hyungu how far Earth had come, but also horrify him how much Earth was suffering.
Hyungu walked as he observed the sky, slightly blurred from pollution. He could see all of his creation though, the constant of stars, the glow of the moon which changed shape each night. When one of his beloved children would eventually burn out, he would mould another from the depths of his soul, to keep the night glowing. Hyungu grew proud of the art he created so far away, and so did many humans. There were entire institutes, careers, books, films, documentaries, history, dedicated to his stars, to his cosmos.
They called it science, labelled it with mathematic formulas. He was okay with that; he didn’t need the acknowledgement.
The God had been so distracted, he didn’t see the human walking towards him, listening to music with large headphones plastered over his ears. Like paths of fate finally meeting, the two bumped into one another, falling backwards onto the ground.
Hyungu had to catch his breath, only to lose it again.
He felt like his entire heart had exploded, the stars he created all exploding as his soul pounded in confusion. Hyungu had never felt so winded, so blind-sighted, in his entire life. The river that ran deep with grief finally turned a corner, crashing into the sea of his love and fading away into his ocean. The ship that had been wandering lost over the misty waves finally saw the distant shine of the lighthouse. Because, somehow, when he looked at the person sprawled on the floor, it was the eyes of a lover he lost so tragically centuries before.
It was Giwook, red cheeks and messy black hair, staring at him in concern under the twinkling galaxy. He was there, suddenly right in front of him. Hyungu wanted to take him right there and then, take him back where he was meant to be, in the home they lived in together. He wanted to show him the flowers they had bloomed together. But this Giwook looked at him with unfamiliarity.
It was his Giwook, but in a different time.
Gone were his poor rags, replaced with jeans and a leopard print coat. He looked so much healthier, shiny, and new. The headphones that had been on his ears were wrapped around his neck, and it was only after staring at him for a few minutes Hyungu realised he was being talked to.
“Are you okay?” His voice was as sweet as before, it brought tears to his eyes.
Hyungu coughed, keeping his sobs at bay. It has been so long since he spoke to Giwook. “I’m fine. What about you? Are you hurt?”
“More upset about my music,” He pouted, gesturing to all the music sheets scattered everywhere.
Hyungu quickly moved to pick them all up, feeling his entire being pound with exhilaration and relief, fingers skimming the pages which Giwook touched. When he stood up, he offered Giwook his hand and the other took it, feeling all those years of mourning leave him. Before him, Giwook shivered as their hands lingered like he was holding onto a feeling that he couldn’t quite place. The boy stared at him, earrings glittering and gaze enticing. Hyungu wondered how he wasn’t falling to pieces.
“Do I know you? You seem familiar,” Giwook asked, piercing his heart.
Hyungu so desperately wanted to tell him, yes. But Giwook had been born without his memories, and it would be odd for him to tell him that he had been born before, many, many years ago and died in his arms. Instead, he trusted in their love. He trusted that their love echoed in their souls, that somewhere deep in his spirit their connection called out for him.
“No, you don’t know me.”
Giwook smiled, bundling his music sheets close to his chest. “Are you sure? I swear I know you? Wait do you work at that small coffee shop?”
“No.”
“The bowling alley? Maybe the ice cream parlour-,”
“No, we haven’t met at any of those places.”
That could have been it. They could have left one another then. But Hyungu couldn’t.
“Are you new here?” He asked almost desperate as Giwook moved to turn away.
Stopping in his tracks, with that small smile Hyungu missed so dearly, he came back to him. It was like a different world to see Giwook so alive, smiling openly with his heart on his sleeve. “I just moved into one of the apartments in town.”
Hyungu hummed, “So you’re not originally from here?”
“No, no.”
“Then why are you here?”
Giwook looked at him for a second. “Kind of hard to explain.”
“Try me.”
“A bit assertive for someone I just met.”
The God laughed because he missed him so much.
They both stood under the lamppost in the middle of the night, leaning in closer as the conversation grew. “Sorry, I’m just like meeting new people.”
“You’re lucky I’m curious enough to indulge. I just…felt drawn to this place.”
The entire world stopped for that moment. “Really? How?”
Giwook looked up at the night, the very night he created so long ago. “There’s just… this feeling. Like something is calling out for me here. Pretentious I know.”
Hyungu didn’t think much about his next sentence. “Is it like…a star you can see, calling you home?”
A whisper of wind between them, Giwook staring at him wide-eyed. Hyungu wished he could remember.
“Exactly,” he whispered, “I’m Giwook by the way.”
Hyungu already knew that.
love, again
Hyungu fell all over again.
Giwook was the same yet so different. It was the Giwook he fell for years before, with his same retorts, curiosity, ambition and drive. His moral compass was strong, his compassion still burning bright. But this Giwook had a much easier life, and Hyungu was grateful to see it. He could live in a world where the people he loved wasn’t a crime, he could pursue the passions he dreamt of. Giwook had been reborn into the life he always wanted, into a much more forgiving time.
They fell as easily as they did last time. Giwook bumped into him often, to the point they ended up laughing about it, calling it fate. Eventually, the younger asked for his number, to which he told him he didn’t own a phone. Giwook had blanched at that, questioning how anyone could survive without one, but it only made the younger more interested.
Therefore, he invested in a phone, purely to talk to him more.
Their courting was much different than last time but equally special in its own way. They would text, send flirty messages where Giwook would make it clear he was interested. Hyungu spent his days planning dates, waiting for the right time to introduce Giwook back into his life. Sometimes it was hard, he would see the boy he lost before in the place where Giwook stood, those soulful eyes speaking wonder beyond his years. When Giwook smiled, he was brought back to when he was crouched in his garden, destined to die young.
After weeks, Giwook finally confronted him.
Giwookie: Are you going to ask me on a date any time soon?
Hyungu gaped at the text, staring with a smile.
Me: I was waiting for it to be romantic.
Giwookie: oops.
Me: But since you brought it up. Giwookie, would you like to go on a date with me?
Giwookie: 100000% yes please.
Hyungu felt like the universe had finally let him be happy.
another first
They no longer hide in the walls of Hyungu’s house when dating, the world was much more forgiving.
Instead, Hyungu left his little home to see the town with Giwook. They visited cafes together, going bowling where Giwook was extremely good and won every game. Even when he was clearly winning, he would pretend it was a close game and get competitive. They went to old arcades and won each other plushies, spent the days in the park where the sun was high. Hyungu cherished every second he spent with him in the new age, holding his hand and keeping him close.
On one of their dates, they sat on a lonesome park bench during a chilly spring night. The sun was setting over the horizon, melting baby pinks and burnt oranges into the sky, a few of his stars shining through the faded blue. Giwook’s hand was safe in his, their shoulder’s pressed together as they looked ahead.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Do you want to kiss me? It’s just that we’ve been dating for quite some time now, and you’ve never tried. It’s okay if you’re not the kissing person, obviously, I’m not going to force you to kiss me. But if you are a kissing person, I’m wondering if maybe there’s something about me you don’t want to kiss because I would like to kiss you if you want-,”
“Giwook.”
While Hyungu found his rambling cute, his words stung. Hyungu had been cautious in when he would kiss Giwook again, for he wanted it to feel right and special but by doing so he completely ignored what the other boy may be thinking. Gently, he stroked the younger’s face and carefully turned his gaze so that their eyes met. Giwook looked slightly sad, his hand squeezing their intertwined fingers like he might fade away.
“I wanted to kiss you the moment I met you.”
Giwook let out a deep breath of relief.
“But I wanted it to feel right.”
He nodded, and Hyungu’s thumb brushed his cheek.
“Right now, feels right,” breathed Hyungu before leaning in.
It was not their first kiss in the universe, but it was their first kiss as a different couple. To feel Giwook’s lips on his again, moulding the same way they did before made him ache. It was hard not to compare to before, especially when it felt no different. Giwook was as gentle as he was in his past life, wrapping himself around Hyungu and inhaling him like smoke. Hyungu grasped him, scared that one day he may disappear all over again.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” Admitted the younger as they pulled away, his nose brushing his.
their home
Hyungu had been scared to show Giwook where he lived. The memories that were etched into the walls and floor had become ghosts of his grief. In his cottage, he remembered the Giwook he lost, the farm boy who intruded on his garden and slowly wiggled his way into his solace and isolation. When he looked out onto his garden, he could only see the last breaths he once took. His bed was their bed and bringing Giwook back to the place they lived in was painful.
But the day came.
The musician was oddly quiet as he moved around the cottage, stroking his hands on odd little trinkets, eyes wandered all around. His fascination didn’t seem to end, everywhere he stepped was weighed with confusion and potential untapped by the universe. Seeing Giwook in the modern age in his home once more was like whiplash. Hyungu watched as the spirit of his former self danced around his new life, two bodies but one soul.
When they reached the garden, which still bloomed the same, Giwook paused. He stood on the grass, looking at the roses, the carnations, the wisteria trees. Then he looked over at the honeysuckles and lavender and the air around them became charged.
“Are you okay?” Hyungu asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Giwook let out a shuddering breath. “I feel so…sad for some reason. You probably think I’m weird.”
“Never.”
The musician fell into his embrace, hugging him tight as they swayed in the garden. His hands stroked through his hair, caressing the strands and kissing his forehead. It must have been hard for the soul that resonated with the past to witness where he had died and confusing for the new parts of Giwook to understand the melancholy attached.
“Is it odd that I feel like I belong here?”
Hyungu let a single tear fall to the ground. “No. You belong here.”
epiphany
Giwook got a cold.
A sickness where he sniffed and coughed, sneezed constantly and had a fever. Yet, despite the assurance, he would get better and the knowledge they lived in the new age of medicine, Hyungu felt a fear he hadn’t before. He was brought back to when Giwook was dying in his arms and couldn’t shake that memory.
When Giwook arrived at his door with hooded eyes and a red nose, he immediately ushered him indoors, tending to him like he was dying.
“It’s only a cold, I promise,” Giwook laughed as he was tucked into bed, obviously enjoying the attention. When Hyungu turned he failed to see the concerned furrow of the musicians’ eyebrows when looking at his frantic nature.
The God couldn’t leave him alone, scared the cold would become something worse, and he dies. He had seen it all before, the start of something dire and life-threatening, taking the soul of someone who he held closer than all the planets and galaxies. He constantly kissed the man, making sure he wasn’t too hot or cold, feeding him with soups and warm broths. Giwook tried to soothe his worries constantly, claiming he wasn’t going to get worse.
Hyungu woke up a week later to an empty bed and panicked. Giwook was out in the garden, looking at the honeysuckles, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
“You should be inside,” The god said as he slowly approached him.
Giwook ignored him. “There’s something about this garden.”
“What-,”
“There’s something about this house. There’s something about you. The moment I met you it felt like I was already in love, yet I had never met you before. This place feels so familiar.”
Hyungu didn’t know what to say.
“Giwookie, you need to come inside-,”
“Ever since I was small, I never felt at home. I looked to the sky and saw this star, a little light that called for me.
“And then I met you. And suddenly I felt at rest. Did you feel the same? After you met me? Did you feel attached?”
He felt breathless, “As soon as I met you, I loved you. More than you could know. I think you’re just as beautiful as every star, as every rising sun and every budding flower.”
Those were words he said to Giwook before. Words he uttered to confirm his attraction, words that meant so much but were hard for him to think about any day before Giwook came back to him.
The musician gasped, turning around with blurred eyes and tears cascading down his cheeks. He was sobbing, clutching at his chest as he struggled to breathe, falling down slowly into the lavender. It was as if everything had aligned, the sweeping memories of a life he forgot rushing back to him so hard he couldn’t breathe. Hyungu moved towards him, not letting him fall alone. His arms moved around him, keeping him up as they drowned into the grass. Giwook cried into his chest.
“I l-loved you before, didn’t I? I was here before.”
The words crashed into the shore.
“You remember?”
“Not entirely. I don’t remember everything, but I remember us.”
“You know that little dot of light you felt like was calling out for you?”
“Y-yes?”
“That was a dying light I sent out to you centuries ago, calling you home.”
Giwook kissed him through his tears, a kiss of salt and yearning, as they fell back against the flowers they first met in, reunited in entirety.
destiny’s return
Destiny came to visit him once more.
On a sleepless night when all he could think about was how easy it was for him to lose again. Giwook slept soundly in his bed, unaware of his turbulent heart. As he sat in the shadows shedding tears of woe, a shimmering light echoed in his garden, and the familiar energy of a God bubbled in his veins.
Destiny was back, still adorned in her dress made of the universe, hair still golden like the sun. He went to meet her, remembering their cold exchange all those years prior, in the darkest years of his existence. Her dress was lilac like his lavender, and she sat amongst his flowers with a smile deeper than the Earth’s oceans.
“You’re back,” He croaked.
She frowned, “Your beloved is back, yet you appear so sad still.”
“He is back for now, but he will disappear. Why have the God’s done this again? Let me love only for him to be ripped away from me when the time comes?”
“We wanted you to be happy.”
He scoffed, “The God’s have never had my happiness in favour. They banished me to live forever on the Earth where everything comes to its end.”
Destiny sighed, “He will still have to die. But is him not being here now not enough?”
Hyungu cried, feeling like he was going in circles, “No! I could deal with it the first time, for I thought I wouldn’t have to love him all over again and mourn once more. It is torture to live forever without him.”
She looked wistful and said nothing. A moment of silence passed between them before her entire dress lit up with the realisation.
“He cannot become immortal. But what if…you become human?”
Her words resonated in his heart bounced off his entire being. Suddenly everything fell into place.
“You can do that?”
“I can.”
“Why have you waited so long to tell me this?”
“It's not usually an offer many Gods would want. Plus, I was worked tirelessly to make sure your lover was brought back to you. However, taking away immortality is not something I can reverse. You must be sure.”
It was more than Giwook at that point. Eternity was a long time, and quite frankly, he never wanted it. If he could live and die with his soulmate, then he would.
“I’ve never wanted anything more.”
Her hands shone vibrant pinks and purples as she walked towards him. “By holding my hand, you will agree to give up your godly status, the power of the stars and night, the ability to live forever with immunity from all disease. But, I shall make sure that as long as you both still want it, you shall grow old together.”
Hyungu didn’t hesitate. Even if things changed, immortality was a curse he wanted to lift. He wanted to live and love and die with his beloved until they were bled back into the universe. Giwook was his end, his beginning and his middle.
He touched destiny’s hand and felt the power seep away. The God’s no longer whispered in his ear; the power of the universe couldn’t be felt moving around. When he looked at the stars, they weren’t connected to him. It was silent.
But he was complete.
Hyungu climbed back into bed, human.
“W-where did you go?” A sleepy Giwook yawned, snuggling in closer to him. The smell of his hair surrounded Hyungu, hands warm on his chest, lips moist on his neck.
The now-human hugged him close, littered kisses all over his skin like the constellations he once made.
“Nowhere my love, I’m here with you until the end.”