“Trying not to die?”
“Among other things.”
Haneul turned in his arms. Sighed. “You did good.”
Then grabbed him by the shirt.
And kissed him.
??????
By the lake, Seungho opened a small box.
Two rings.
One pale silver, streaked with glacier blue.
The other dark—black steel, veined with ember-red, warm to the touch.
Both elemental. Opposing. Alike.
Haneul stared.
“I bought them before your birthday,” Seungho said. “Before the fire. Before I thought I’d lose you.”
Haneul didn’t touch them. Not yet.
He looked up.
“You brought me all the way to the mountains to propose to me without proposing.”
“I thought I’d let you say it first.”
“That’s very you.”
Seungho held out the box, both hands.
The rings glinted in the pale light.
Haneul’s breath caught.
“I used to think dying for someone was the most romantic thing,” he said quietly. “Some tragic, star-crossed vow. But that was cowardice. That was leaving.”
He lifted the silver ring. Turned it over between his fingers. The blue glint shifted like frozen fire.
“But living… that’s the real vow.”
Seungho said nothing.
Just took his hand, and slid the ring onto his finger. Slow. Careful. Certain.
“No more reincarnations,” he said. “No more fire.”
Haneul’s hand trembled. Not from pain.
From something deeper.
He took the second ring, slid it onto Seungho’s finger. His own hands were cold. Seungho’s were burning.
