there had been times in the past meetings where taehyung and jeongguk would lay side by side and simply allow the slow progression of time to befriend their heavy hearts for a few moments. perhaps they'd find their fingers laced together, knuckles blushing and wrists atop a soft, grassy pillow.

no words were necessary back then, because their minds and consciences were clear of woe and they'd agreed never to speak of the time as a limiting factor to what was fast becoming a beautiful romance. therefore, silence was something welcomed with open arms, and ears learned to adapt to listen for things unspoken; find meanings in the ether as it pulls out strings of stars like tightrope for the clouds to traverse.

nowadays, whenever taehyung falls silent, jeongguk panics.

it always begins in his lungs— this sick, flooding feeling. it fills them up with a liquid thicker than treacle which pushes itself into every last crack and crevice and forms whirlpools and tidal waves strong enough to swim up into his throat (that which tries its hardest, god bless, to close up on itself to stop the flood and suffocate the boy of all words that would be used to scream his voice hoarse should the poor village boy lose his heart) and once he's at that stage, he finds himself saying absolutely anything to evoke a response to soothe his anxieties.

taehyung's caught on by now.

he notices the way jeongguk's breathing doesn't behave as it used to. it's stiff and it's automated to make as little noise as possible. all, of course, to make sure that taehyung's breathing takes the main stage.

now, the only silence they can comfortably share is that which follows when taehyung holds jeongguk's hand and stares him in the eye; following the words 'we're going to make it up the willow tree together. there's still time.' even when the words catch themselves on a breath that passes too quick.

time may never have been on their side, but never before had it felt so cruel.

kim taehyung has always been a dreamer, however.

after seeing his childhood fantasies through and ending up here today, he knows that there's nothing he can't accomplish. he is going to make it to the top of the willow tree with jeongguk. he will, because he has to. because he believes it. and, god knows, when taehyung believes in something, nothing can get in his way.

that's the one thing, jeongguk notices, that hasn't faded from taehyung's eyes. that belief. that naivety. that which he wishes he possessed himself. and he thinks that the fact that it's all that remains of the boys he'd come to know on that fateful night makes it much worse that he doesn't trust it.

but he doesn't.

he can't.

not when he had to find taehyung clinging to a nearby tree on his way here, a migraine so loud that jeongguk could feel electricity when he scooped the boy up into his arms and carried him up the hill, galaxies blooming for them only to be ignored, because all one can think about is the other, no time to look up at the sky.

"it doesn't hurt anymore, you know? i just feel tired," taehyung catches jeongguk staring at him with those eyes again and he manages that signature smile intended to help wounds that don't exist yet heal, because he won't be there to do so when they come to be.

"you'd say that regardless, taehyung," jeongguk whispers, shoulders slumping in regret for having to darken the mood of a time that should be so joyous. it was joyous. it was.

"and you'd worry regardless, jeongguk."

that cocky sort of phrase would once be enough to make jeongguk let go of his pout and fall into a conversation. one that travelled the same distance as the cosmos that came to look upon this display of a universe set into motion in the space of the glade, here between these two hearts.

but one of those hearts is stilling, now.

it's frosting at its edges and jeongguk can't bring himself to touch it. he'll only hurt it more. make it worse. he always makes it worse. he's even afraid to breathe beside him. to dance his fingertips across the jaw that once enticed his touch with a humbled smile and alluring eyes. the boy is so fragile now, and in order to protect him, jeongguk would have to stay far away.

and he remembers when taehyung could laugh with ease. when he felt as though anything was possible in the window of night that they had to be together, shooting stars on their eyelids and universes on their fingertips. when jeongguk believed that he could make taehyung stay. when taehyung believed that one day he would be held until morning and find jeongguk still at his side when he turned over in the grass.

such bittersweet things, these past dreams now bowing for reality. but nowhere near as cruel is the taste of lost freedom as the knowledge that you learn to love only to be able to lose.

because while taehyung looks at jeongguk in wonder, seeing the addition of new feathers and magnificent width to make the boy bearing the wings seem all the more other-worldly, jeongguk sees only the way that taehyung can no longer manage to lift his head for long enough to rest them atop his arms.

"stop looking at me like... like this is the last time," taehyung says carefully, closing his eyes when he's through. jeongguk frowns, eyes piercing into the feather taehyung clutches in his right hand like a good luck charm (it's killing you, god dammit). "it isn't. i promise."

"don't promise me that," jeongguk shakes his head. "you can't promise me that. don't promise me that. we only need one promise. the willow tree. and we don't have time. i need to—"

"jeongguk..." taehyung whispers, voice finally lowering into something like sadness, but jeongguk already jumps to his feet, eyes angry as they bore into the willow tree.

"you're dying, taehyung!" jeongguk's voice slips to a level of volume that makes the human jump, eyes widening as though he could possibly have the energy to support such an action. "you're... you're dying, taehyung. you can't work. you can't walk. you'd have to wait another year to see me and i— i promised you, taehyung."

"i'm trying to... to hold on," the boy replies, but even his voice is meek now, and jeongguk can't stand it.

he wants to fly now. he wants these god forsaken wings to do their job. he wants taehyung's suffering to be of use. he wants to show the boy before he goes away that all of this was worth it. more than the wings, more than the hurt, he wants taehyung to know that there is nothing in this world that jeongguk wouldn't do for him if only he had the chance. and this promise, at the very least, should have been able to show him that.

he wants to fly. he wants to carry taehyung up so high that he gasps, and wrap him up in the protection of the clouds, and scream at the gods and force them to make this all stop. just stop.

he wants to wage the war of the sky on the ground and cause hurricanes and tempests so strong that even the seraphs would cover their eyes in terror, cursing the world to an eternity of pain and suffering for what they've done to a story that should've been so beautiful. because this isn't fair. this isn't just. this isn't a fairytale.

"i was supposed to be your angel!"

taehyung wanted a fairytale. he deserved one.

"we were supposed to be beautiful!"

jeongguk. he was supposed to be a fairytale. not a monster. but he can't even fucking do that right. he can't even flap these wings that hurt his back and steal the breath from the true angel who lays tormented on the ground, a weak plea for jeongguk to stop passing his chapped lips (please stop! it's all okay! i don't need to fly, i just need to hold you some more!) when jeongguk lunges at the night sky and tries with all of his might to get himself into the air, crying desperate tears that make his whole body wrack with fear.

and he does. for a moment he does. he manages to fly for just enough time to taste the relief on his tongue before it's all ripped away. before he can share it with the wilting boy stuck on the ground.

he can't even feel it when he hits the floor this time. all he manages to acknowledge is the guilt that cascades over him when he realises that he's the reason taehyung can't run after him when he falls to earth, a demon dressed as an angel with wings so far from operational that they pull him back down instead of lifting him up.

if taehyung is cursed, then jeongguk is tortured.

a constant reminder of the life that he stole attached to his back like the heavy chains of a prisoner. he can never be free of them.

"it's okay," taehyung whispers, the threat of the sunrise spilling against the horizon. hues of amber, crimson, and auburn bleeding across the skyline. jeongguk clings to him then, about to beg until his lungs are raw. "it's all okay, my angel. it's all okay."

(please, not yet, moon! what have we done to you for you to damn us so cold heartedly? for years we've been so loyal and now you turn your back to us?)

"don't leave me, taehyung," jeongguk weeps with the strength of all the love in his heart, saturn's rings lodged in his throat as he's forced to watch the sand fill the hourglass that tells him this is it. their refusal to acknowledge the time has brought them a great misfortune christened in tears heavier than the stars that drop from the sky. "please don't leave me. i don't want my wings, i just need you. d-don't leave me alone."

"i'll never have to leave you like this, angel. and it's okay that it happened this way. we'll be a part of the stars for real once you're up there. we'll be beautiful. we'll be timeless. a new fairytale for the kids to beg their father's to read to them each night. and when they look up at the sky, there we'll be, the brightest stars in all of the galaxy." taehyung insists, hand falling down the curve of jeongguk's cheek to thumb at his jaw. "if you can't carry me, love, i'll have to carry you."