#kirawrites

Boothill seldom talked about his traditions and interests before becoming the silver cowboy that he is today, so when he does choose the time to do so, you listen with all the intent and concentration you can muster. 

It manifests when you’re watching a movie together, the scene of a man hunting in the snow covered woods lighting up the tv screen. The camera pans to his boots, animal tracks prevalent as he begins to follow them to wherever they lead. 

“Pretty convincin’ rabbit tracks,” he comments, his head in your lap as you sit on the couch with a blanket over you. It piques your curiosity. 

“How do you know they’re rabbit tracks?” 

You don’t know when he picked up the remote, but he rewound to the specific frame they were shown at with ease. “It’s basically four dots in the snow, kinda shaped like a T formation.”

You tilted your head. “I thought rabbit’s feet were huge.”

“They are. But they don’t put the whole o’their hind feet on the ground when they’re runnin’ round.”

You hum, and a comfortable silence envelops you both as he unpauses the movie. Another scene shows a larger set of tracks, and you guess blindly. “Bear?”

He shakes his head, the locks of his white hair following suit as it dangles off your knees. “Snow leopard.”

Soon enough, a large snarl is heard before the protagonist dodges at the last minute, barely escaping being mauled by the large cat in front of him.

“Told ya.” He adorns a smug smile while looking up at you, his legs crossing at the ankles as they rest atop the arm of the couch. 

You don’t know what prompts you to say it. Maybe it was the yearning to know more about the man you loved who tended to be so closed off when it came to discussing their past. Perhaps it was your natural curiosity for new things. Either way, you wanted to know more. 

“Can you teach me?” 

He seems to be taken aback by your question, looking up at you with slightly widened eyes. He turns skeptical awfully quick, his eyes going half lidded before answering. “Now to what use would a city dweller like yerself would that be?”

You shrug. “It’s not like this entire planet is completely covered in high tech buildings. Just most of it…,” you shyly admit. “But what if there’s an apocalypse y'know? That’s a pretty useful skill.” 

He howls so hard you can see the entire inside of his mouth, his hand wiping away imaginary tears. 

“No need t’grasp at straws sweetheart. If you want me t’teach ya I’ll teach ya.” His eyes closed, a confident smile spreading across his face. “Couldn’t track your way outuva a paper bag with yer current level.”

Your laugh came out more like several hums as you grabbed his cowboy hat resting on the opposite arm of the couch and pushed it down onto his face. He mumbled incoherent protests as your fist pounded on the crown, pushing it down further while his mechanical hands blindly searched for yours. 

—-

With streets so bustling and lights so bright the stars are blotted out of the sky, your planet is no good for practical lessons. All you can do is go over the book he gifted you again, a “random souvenir” he just so happened to pick up after a mission.  

He says he’ll take you to a planet that's perfect for a lesson once he gets the time. He describes it as one that’s freezing half year round; the white snow is blinding in the day and pitch black at night, the moon orbiting it is minuscule but the stars are plentiful, lighting up the sky like the Aeons themselves strategically placed each one. You can’t help but wonder if he’s exaggerating, making you only more eager for those thousands of stars to align for the outing you had planned. 

Opportunity strikes when you least expect it, a sudden closing of your job when the higher ups deem it too low in temperature to operate that day. You’re more than happy to call the cowboy up on the phone, knowing he’d be back from a recently finished mission soon. “Amateurs,” Boothill scoffs once he hears the news. His resistance to the cold was built up more by the early mornings he had to spend hunting in his younger years than his metal body. 

“Is now a good time?” You didn’t even have to clarify what you were talking about. You could practically see the all knowing glint in his eye accompanied by a grin through the phone.

“Now’s perfect. Timin’ couldn’t be better either.”

He tells you to meet him at the usual spot; an unofficial landing dock that had been abandoned for a much newer more convenient space a couple miles away. You recalled he still liked using this one to avoid the crowds and droves of rude gawkers that would stare at him while he waited for you (The decision to do so came to a head when you had to practically pry him off a scruffy old man. Whatever he said to him riled the cowboy up good, because he’d taken at least 1 firm metal knuckle sandwich to the face before you’d even gotten there. You could tell by the black eye that was quickly forming before you ushered Boothill away, rushing onto the ship before the authorities could arrive.).

And that’s where you find yourself waiting now. You readied your backpack and took extra precaution to bundle up properly as Boothill mentioned that the planet you two were headed to was often at freezing temperatures and only got colder at night. 

Though he said it would only be 10 more minutes, you find yourself waiting longer than that. The snow serves as a fitting distraction as you stick your tongue out, stepping around once in a while to catch snowflakes on it.

It takes you by complete surprise when a strong hand grabs you by your shoulder and turns you around, the motion startling you before catching a blur of black and white coming closer. The snowflake on your tongue practically evaporated as it was smashed between two open mouths, an all too familiar hum from a certain cowboy accompanying it. 

You’re both panting by the time he pulls away, your breaths billowing together into a thick fog. “You’re late,” you mention as a smile creeps across your face. There’s no bite in your words whatsoever. 

Boothill licks his lips while wiping away the bit of saliva that leaked from the corner of your mouth. “I’d say I’m fashionably late.”

You couldn’t really argue with that. It seemed as though he’d gotten a winter version of his regular outfit tailor made, though it definitely seemed to be more for fashion over function. His midriff was still exposed and his sleeves were still up, but with the built in revolver in his arm, you doubted he could put them down if he wanted to (you offhandedly began to wonder how he even got the jacket on, suddenly not remembering how he’d go about putting it on when he woke up next to you.). If anything, the only difference about it was that there seemed to be fur lined on the inside of it. “You’re not cold?” Your curiosity manifested into a single question.

He shook his head. “Jus thought I’d wear somethin’ different for our little excursion. Basically got a built-in heater. Evens out pretty nicely when it gets workin’.”

To demonstrate, he held out his hand to you. His metal fingers gleaming invitingly as you put out yours for him to grab…

Only for him to snatch off your glove and do just that. However, instead of the warm smothering heat you were expecting, it was a sheer cold sensation that sent a chill through your arm and down your spine.

A predatory grin split his face as he watched you gasp and recoil, only for his grip to tighten so that you couldn’t let go. The other hand that you didn’t notice was behind his back dropped a pile of snow, the likely culprit as to why he suddenly felt so frigid. 

“No fair!” you chuckle as you swatted at his hand like you would to an unruly child, prompting him to finally release you from your icy prison. 

He responded with a hearty laugh, sealing it with a couple snorts at the end. “All’s fair in love and war sweetheart. Gotta keep yer guard up!”

You scoff. Him pulling pranks was a sign that he was in a very good mood. “Alright salt ‘n pepper. Are you ready to go or what?”

His nose wrinkled as you got partial revenge with that silly nickname, but still smiled. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

His ship is already warned up and ready to go when you get on, and it encourages you to loosen your snow gear when he informs you that it’ll take about 30 minutes to warp to your destination. You take the time to go over the images and characteristics in your book again, but then turn your full attention to him when he starts speaking.

“Fresh snow’s ideal for a beginner,” he started. “If it’s still comin’ down, tracks get covered up by more snow. Best t’start just after it’s done.” he continued to give last minute advice as the two of you began to enter the orbit of the planet he’d talked so highly about. You couldn’t help but notice the look of enthusiasm on his face as he explained the finer details of tracking. A dash of nostalgia would occasionally set in his features, his eyes distant and wistful when he silently recalled a memory for himself.

Once he properly landed the ship, the two of you double checked your gear and prepared to head out.

He made his way to the door with you in tow before suddenly stopping, turning to you on his heel before crossing his arms. “You remember the rules?” He asked, looking at you expectantly.

You raise your hand as if you’re reciting a scout’s mission, confident in your answers. “Don’t just keep your eyes on the ground. Be aware of your surroundings.”

“And?”

“Don’t be too loud or you’ll scare off the animals.”

“Aaaand?” He adorned a smile that reached his eyes now, his body leaning towards you as he waited for the most important rule.

You smile and roll your eyes, recalling exactly how he phrased it, accent and all. “Don’t stray too far from the rootin’ tootin’ handsome cowboy guide that is yer boyfriend.”

“Atta girl.” Boothill booped your nose before turning back around and immediately opening the ship’s door, a canvas of white silhouetting him before he made his way down the steps. The cold hit your face like a soft pillow, cool but smothering as you made your way down the stairs. You immediately noticed how much thinner the air was, your breaths becoming more frequent.

Boothill hadn’t mentioned whether or not the planet was inhabited, but as far as you could tell, this area was completely untouched by industrial and urban innovation. There were trees of evergreen and regular oaks alike, the former filled with full bristles while the latter were barren; their branches like rigid hands that desperately reached for the sky. You squinted your eyes as the endless white blanket of snow was almost blinding.

“This way,” Boothill directs after giving you a moment to take in your surroundings, leading you to the opposite direction you were looking. His pace was steady but slower than his regular walking speed, and you set to match him as the snow packed and crunched under your boots. The same type of trees were this way, but it didn’t look like their numbers were as plentiful. You soon realized why when they were passed to reveal a clearing. Several patches of grass and tall plants littered the ground, a balding grass field stretching out before you. 

“Let’s start with somethin’ small. Why don’t ya take a look around?” His tone is gentle and quiet, and you find it encouraging. 

You smile and nod, finding the cold leaving you breathless when you start to exert yourself more. 

Your steps are light and methodical as you waddle your way around the field, eyes fixated on the ground before looking up once in a while in case you suddenly run into a critter. Your walking pattern is the same as if you were mowing grass, going up and down the field with no blade uncut with your eyes until you finally spot something. Flagging Boothill down, he makes his way over as you crouch down to get a closer look at the footprints. 

“So? What are they?” Boothill quizzes you. 

Your brow furrows as you study the length and spacing of the indents in the snow, your index finger pushed against your front teeth as you think. Whatever made them is an animal with 4 toes on its front and 5 toes on its back with tiny indents in front, indicating that it also has claws. The front paws are also noticeably smaller than the back paws. “Squirrel?”

“Bingo. Nice job, sweetheart.”

You smile and fist pump into the air, a silent display of triumph as you successfully identify the tracks. The gesture immediately takes him back to a different planet, a younger him making the same correct inference. He rustles what little hair is sticking out of your hood the way Nick did to him despite you being too old for that, and you protest in the same way he did. 

He’s silent for a while as the trudged up memory fades, his mind slotting in the current one next to it.

“What’s next?” You ask, giving him an opportunity to fully come back to the present. 

“Why don’t we try the reverse, hm? Think you can find me some rabbit tracks?”

You don’t find the rabbit tracks, but you do find that the cold begins to penetrate your several layers of clothing.

That’s all you manage to discover before you tell him that you’re getting chilly. The two of you head back to the ship and you plop yourself down next to the heater, an audible sigh escaping you. 

You must have looked more bummed than you realized, because he saunters over after a couple minutes to recite his signature phrase for when you were down. 

“Why so glum, sugarplum?” His southern drawl adds extra sweetness to it.

It never fails to make you give him a look, your eyes crinkling and a smile that shows all your top teeth. One that screams ‘you’re so cute when you rhyme’. He closes his eyes and gives a triumphant smile that screams back ‘I know’.

You purse your lips before deciding to voice your concern, beginning to put your gloves back on before you prepare to head out again. “I’m hoping those squirrel tracks aren’t the first and last ones I see today.”

He comes closer to you, assisting in buttoning your coat back up since your gloved hands were having trouble doing so, impressed that his smooth metallic fingers could handle it. “You gotta be patient darlin’. Sometimes you end up lookin’ for a long time, sometimes you just gotta be in the right place at the right time. Lots o different variables to consider.” He said, admiring his handiwork before moving on to tying your scarf around your neck. “When the time’s right, just be sure you’re ready to strike at the right moment!” He emphasized the word strike by pulling both ends of your scarf taut around your neck and up to your nose. “Or rather, observe. Ain’t no huntin’ today.”

Your day went on like this in a steady cycle; searching for signs of life, following said signs until the trail ran cold or you discovered the maker, and occasionally going back to the ship to warm up again and rest. The subsequent visits to the ship consisted of you straddling him with his internal temperature on high, speeding up the process of warming up again (or was it slow down? It took just as long as when you would sit by the heater, but certainly not because you were cold). You even broke for lunch at one point, sharing the leftovers of a hearty vegetable soup you’d made earlier this week. Boothill appreciated that you’d spiced it just the way he liked it; a hefty amount of cayenne pepper for a nice warm kick. Even more perfect for cold weather like this. “Right. One more outing, then we can call it a day.” he announced as you screwed the lid back onto the thermos. “Think you can sniff out some deer tracks somewhere?”

“I’ll do my best,” you assure him. 

The sun is sinking into the horizon by the time you conclude scouting the deer tracks you’d found. They look as though someone pressed the side of 2 dragon claws into the snow, a gap in between the 2 sides of the prints. They lead to a towering mountain that looks as though it would take days to hike. Looks like you won’t be seeing them in the flesh today.

“S’pose it’s about time,” he muses. 

“Time for what?” 

He doesn’t speak anymore, only prompts for you to follow him with eye contact and a jerk of his head in a specific direction. 

The puffs of air you make only get thicker as night falls, the temperature dropping even more as dusk comes and goes. Though you thought he was exaggerating, the scenery wasn’t too far off from what he described. The cowboy that had been so clear in the light of day was now a burgundy silhouette in front of you as you couldn’t even see the tiny moon in the sky, likely sitting in a place you couldn’t see, especially with all the thick evergreen patching your line of sight. You expressed your degrading vision to him with a light tap on his shoulder and a wave of your hand in front of your face. He gives you an understanding smile and holds out his cape, your gloved fingers reaching out to grab it before he begins to string you along.

You take tentative steps before the cape you’re holding suddenly lowers, indicating that Boothill has crouched down in front of you. You can make out the gleaming metallic of his hand pointing to peculiar indents in the snow, prompting you to bend over and look in that direction. It's deer tracks, although you think that they’re awfully huge for deer tracks. Their depth looks to be several inches deep as well, so the weight and size of whatever made it must be phenomenal. Not only that, but there was more than one set of them. Not wanting to stray too far from Boothill, you craned your neck to see more indents in the snow over the rather large path, counting at least 5 pairs that you could see from here alone. You give him a puzzled but worried look, and he shakes his head with a smile, likely trying to reassure you. He brings his index and thumbs together while placing them at the corners of his eyes before opening his hands, his mouth widening as well. 

Alright then, whatever he was going to show you was sure to knock your socks off. 

As you follow him, you notice that the path you’re taking starts to incline and leads to a high cliff. You thought you might have been mistaken, but as you came closer, you were certain that an almost iridescent glow was emanating from the top. The silence of the tundra gradually flooded with heavy hooves and grunting. Boothill veers to the side of where the glowing was coming from and you seamlessly follow, his steps leading you to a messy row of evergreens that slightly blocked out the mysterious glow. He pokes his head out from behind the trees first before turning to you. You can make out a satisfied grin as his teeth shine in what little light there is as he motions for you to do the same. 

In front of you is a scene you thought you’d only see in a dream. The hill is occupied by what looks to be a herd of deer, though as their footprints in the snow indicated, they’re much larger than any species of deer you’ve known. They even dwarf the size of a moose as they congregate. But what causes you to stare in awe the most is the sight of their heads. 

The light that you saw illuminating the hill and now dancing across in patterns on their fur was coming from their antlers. You couldn’t even tell which ones were male or female, as it looked like all of them had antlers, none more distinct looking than the others just from the naked eye. They looked hollow, most of them housing a constantly swirling internal green. However, some of them adorned antlers that shone purple. The ones that had that color were noticeably in pairs of two, one never wandering too far away from the other.

Boothill was right all along; spotting once in a lifetime sights seemed to be all about being in the right place at the right time. You realize this when the cowboy pats your head to get your attention, motioning to two enormous deer looking creatures in particular that clearly had a different pattern of behavior. Their frequent snorting and grunting at each other dies down as they back away, only to bash heads seconds later. 

You continue to watch as the two purposely lock horns, crashing into each other with all the force they could muster before untangling themselves and going at it again. Their hooves dug into the snow as they held their own, neither giving the other leeway as their muscles rippled under thick fur. They seemed to be testing each other’s strength, repeating their jousting for a while before separating one last time, finally trotting over and bowing their heads so that their antlers connected once more. Sparks flew between their tines, as if they were exchanging information, before you saw them gain that illustrious amethyst color.

The two of you observe the mysterious creatures for a long time, admiring the impromptu light show their horns give off before they begin to disperse. “Welp, looks like they’re takin’ off. Best we do the same.” His whispered voice is right next to your ear, having stayed close this entire time. Humming in agreement, you giggle at him when he dramatically bows to you, handing out his cape for you to grab again. 

“What were those?” Your eyes were blown wide as you asked him, finally out of earshot of the creatures once his ship was in sight. In your original location, the moon you were looking for earlier loomed overhead, beaming down enough light that you found it fine if you released Boothill’s cape now. 

“Not sure if they got any other name, but I’m used to callin’ em Northern Lights. They’re a rare sight. Save for when the temp goes below zero like now.” His hat became dusted with white sprinkles as he spoke, prompting the both of you to look up. “Ready to head out? Snow’s comin down again, gonna cover up any tracks y’woulda found by now anyway.”

“Sure,” You reply, your eyes shifting to the forest before back to him. He raises a brow, immediately picking up on the hint of hesitation. Though you agreed with his declaration to leave, you made no move to board the ship. Perhaps it was the thought of this night ending so soon that made you hesitate, unsure of how to prolong it once the environment wasn’t fit to be grounds to observe anymore. Much to your delight, Boothill had an idea. 

“Tell ya what. Why don’t we make ourselves a fire? Nothin’ like gazin’ out at the night sky, even if there ain’t no stars here.” 

“Okay!” You agree almost instantly, moving closer to his side before following him in a familiar direction. 

Heading back to the field where you found the squirrel tracks, Boothill instructs you on gathering plants that are fit for kindling; the tops of cattails and fluffy heads of goldenrods, and a bundle of dry sticks. It wasn’t long before you both returned with armfuls of flammable material, setting some aside as the cowboy began to strategically place some on a patch of ground you cleared away the snow from. 

Offering to go get the lighter, you take a step towards the ship. Boothill scoffs, insisting he doesn’t need it before producing a rock that you assume to be flint and his trusty army knife. “You carry those everywhere with you huh?”

“Sure do!” His head tilts up proudly as he expertly flips the tool in his hand. “Wouldn’t be caught dead without this baby.” Since he had no nails to speak of, his sharp teeth were the perfect solution for catching onto the grooves on the side. Choosing a particular blade with a straight edge, he flared his lips to pull back on it until it clicked into place. Boothill kneels in front of the pile he made before striking the rock in his other hand, sparks flashing so bright that you squinted your eyes as steel repeatedly grated against the flint. It wasn’t long before the sparks caught onto the dry plants, the fire starting small before gradually growing. Smoke plumed into the air as he fed more tinder to keep it going. 

“Oh! I’ve got just the thing for this occasion!” You make your way inside the ship, shortly coming back holding something in each hand. By the time you do, the campfire is a medium size blaze, highlighting the edges of Boothill’s silhouette as he stood up to see you return. You presented two steaming mugs of hot coca in each hand, already chocked full of peculiar marshmallows.

“Those them bear marshmallows you been harpin’ on about?” He chuckles, watching a family of them swirl in the chocolate mixture as your cheeks puffed up. 

“Bearmallows, thank you very much! We didn’t get to see one today, so we might as well eat them.”

Boothill scoffs. “Like that’s got anythin’ to do with it. You were gonna eat em anyway.”

“Well of course!” It was your turn to proudly display the supplies you brought. “I paid for them, didn't I?”

He offers you a hand when you place the mugs next to the fire, and your eyes narrow in suspicion. “Aw c’mon darlin’, I don’t do the same joke twice! Not on the same day, at least.” You hum, still not convinced that he’s serious just yet. “How can y’not believe this handsome face?” He pushes both index fingers into the apples of his cheeks, though your suspicions rise even higher when he cracks the same toothy grin he did when he got you before. 

You cross your arms and turn away, but he can tell that your resolve is wavering when he spies a smile playing on your lips, finding his gesture to be too adorable to completely ignore. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll have better luck cuddling with the Northern Lights instead.” 

He mutters something under his breath before you hear his steps crunch in the snow. A pair of familiar metallic arms wrap tightly around your waist before you’re lifted off the ground, your feet kicking in the air as your yelp diverts into laughing. His laugh accompanies yours, like two school children horsing around as he spins and goes to sit on a flat rock in front of the fire with you in his lap. 

Much to your delight, he wasn’t lying about only playing a prank once. It didn’t even feel as if you were outside anymore as his elbows pressed against the sides of your waist, hands clasping over your navel as his chin rested atop your head. The amount of warmth he was giving off right now was just as efficient as the heater inside the ship, his body pressed so close to yours that you could feel it through your layers that had begun to be penetrated by the tundra again. Slipping off your gloves and draping them over your thigh, you felt the intricate grooves of his hands, the white joints the most prominent as your thumb ran along his knuckles. The internal heating system implemented into his body paid for itself three times over at this point. What he lacked in softness, he vowed to make up for in the amount of heat that he could generate. Though you emphasized that the firmness of his physique never bothered you one bit, and you made sure he knew you meant what you said when you wind up next to him every morning glued to his side. The deep breath and exhale hum you did sent a pleasant vibration through his circuits, your eyes closing in relaxation. You slowly open them again before the ticking of his mechanized heart inadvertently lulls you to sleep. 

“Who taught you how to track animals, Boothill?” Your first question is curious and soft, but to Boothill, it’s a gentle probing.

He’s silent for quite a while, never taking his eyes off the fire that illuminates the area around you two. The only indication he gives that he heard you is that his hand comes up from under yours to rub his middle finger back and forth along the top of your hand, a sign that he was thinking about it. You think he won’t answer after a long stretch of silence, and you’re ok with that. 

“My old man,” he replies. “Used to go huntin’ with him almost every mornin.” He recalls the sudden consciousness of the daybreak and the deep grumbles of Nick, the man’s gear already equipped as he scrambled to do the same. “Damn near froze our ashes off lookin’ for game.”

Your lips quirk as you look up at him fondly. You can’t help but imagine a younger, possibly more human looking Boothill in the same position you were earlier; his tiny body shivering, nose running, his winter gear adjusted by his father out of love and care. His focus stays on the smoldering fire in front of him, as if it were a screen playing the memory he described. “Ran into one ‘o them special deers before back on my planet. Never saw ‘em again ‘til I came here.”

That being said, it wasn’t as if the majestic creatures didn’t have their own share of pain. When the soldiers of the IPC came down, they found it in their best interest to desecrate everything his people stood to protect. That no less included the Northern Lights. They were hunted to extinction for their glowing horns, their deeds much more akin to poachers than actual hunters. Recalling one of his final memories on his home planet, he came across a dead one when he was older, the blood from its fatal head wound seeping into the earth. As blasphemous as it was to even hunt them, its attackers hadn’t even bothered to make use of any other part of its body. At least the soil had a special place for it once it decomposed long enough. 

“What exactly were they doing with their horns?” Your second question is pure curiosity, recalling their peculiar behavior. He’s constantly grateful for you pulling him out of his sometimes stressful thoughts, whether you were aware of it or not. 

“Matin’ ritual.” His other hand lifts up as his fingers intertwine in front of you, presumably to imitate their horns. “They like to go at it t’see if they make a good fit for each other. If one of them’s too strong, they move on to try someone else. When they’re in agreement with each other, their horns turn that glowin’ purple you saw.” You watch as his fingers pull apart and wiggle “Y’got to see a rare sight today.”

You cross your arms and interlock your fingers with his. The fitting feels pleasant and satisfying, like a solution to a jigsaw puzzle. “Well they’re absolutely breathtaking. I’m glad you were able to find them again.”

Your final question is one that makes his mechanical heart uptick. “Can we do this again sometime?” He looks down at you, astonished. Though he found your enthusiasm cute, he never thought you’d go so far to ask for a repeat visit. It occurs to him that you may have actually genuinely enjoyed yourself.

“Well sure! When we get another chance. Maybe you could even play hooky.” You can hear the excitement in his voice as he’s already planning the next time the two of you visit again. When you look up, a genuine grin is overtaking his face. One that gives a glimpse into the inner child still excited to explore distant lands, see new alien creatures, preferably with you. 

You hummed, wishing that you could capture his expression with a picture, but there was no way you were leaving his arms right now. There was doubt that your camera would even be able to capture the genuine joy on his face. You’d do anything to see him do that more often though, perhaps getting a chance to try and frame it another time. “Playing hooky would be worth it for this.”

He took in your content face, finding an ethereal beauty in the way you were now. Snowflakes gently falling from the sky were like sparkles in your eyelashes, melting away when you would rub at them with the base of your palm only to gather more. Your cheeks were turning a flushed red, a sign that you were still fully human and subject to the elements. You couldn’t turn it off if you tried. 

Jeongguk presses the combination of numbers on your lock, expecting you to be laying on the couch reading just like you enjoy doing on Thursday nights like these while you wait for him to arrive. However, as he steps in, you're nowhere to be seen, and the TV isn't on like it usually is considering you don't like the silence when you're alone.

His eyes scan the apartment as he closes the door behind him, the clicking of the lock sounding through the space as it returns into its frame. After kicking his boots off and shrugging off his jacket, he walks further to look for you. His first thought is that you've already gone to bed, but it fades as he sees you on the balcony with your back facing him as you look out over the city.

The sight of you, his love, makes his heart flutter. He walks up to the glass door, sliding it open slowly not to startle you - but even that makes you jump slightly, causing you to turn quickly to find the source of unexpected noise.

"Hi," Jeongguk smiles.

You sigh. "Hey."

"You okay?"

"Uh..." you start, not really sure how to continue as you turn back to watch the city lights. "Yeah, I'm fine."

You're not fine.

Instantly he knows something's up, worry blooming in his chest as he walks up to stand next to you.

"What's wrong?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed. "Talk to me."

You breathe out, letting your head fall back as you try to keep it together. You'd been feeling like this all day, constantly finding yourself having to fight back the tears. You knew this moment was bound to happen sooner or later, but still, you dreaded it.

"We..." you stop, swallowing to keep your voice from breaking as you continue on. "We should take some time apart from each other." You say, eyes still not meeting his.

Jeongguk feels as if his heart stops, his breath getting caught in his throat. "Wh-What?" He stutters, searching for your gaze as you look down at your hands hanging over the railing.

The whole situation feels unexpected to him. He thought everything between you two was fine. Did he do something wrong? 

He feels panic arising, quickly replacing the worry that found home inside his ribcage.

"I need to find myself," you speak, now gaining the courage to look into his eyes. "And you need to find you, and figure out who you are."

His beautiful eyes. Big brown eyes with countless amounts of stars sparkling in them, those eyes you've gotten lost in over and over ever since the two of you met years ago. Those soft eyes, and the wrinkles that form around them when he smiles - nose scrunching in happiness.

Your heart aches as you look into them, feeling tears sting in your eyes. You didn't want to do this. The last thing you'd ever want to do is hurt Jeongguk. Your sweet Jeongguk, your bunny, your happiness and your warmth. Your everything.

This has been the hardest decision you've ever had to make, but you know it'll be better this way.

You can’t help but feel like the two of you rely on each other too much for happiness and well-being, whenever there's a problem or when something is weighing you down - you always search for a solution in the other. You're grateful to have him, someone you can go to and feel better - you really are. But you found yourself wandering off inside your mind one day while waiting for him to return from work, wondering what life would be like without Jeongguk. He's been your light ever since the two of you met, the morning that dawned after a night that seemed to be endless.

You realised right then and there that, without him, you'd be nothing - everything would be dull. And as your mind wandered even further, questions started popping up in your head.

Do you love yourself? Yes, because Jeongguk has taught you to. Are you happy? Yes you are, because you have Jeongguk.

Are you really happy with your life? Do you wanna stay like this forever?

With Jeongguk? Yes, you want to stay with him forever. With life? No, you want to be genuinely happy, and you want to be independent in that - and be able to say that you've found true happiness, because and for you, not anyone or anything else.

You'd asked Jeongguk that same day; are you happy? Do you love yourself?

"Yes, because of you."  He had replied, an unintentional reflection of your own answers.

His response should've made you happy, it should've made your heart flutter - but because of your concerns, you simply couldn't feel that way.

"What do you mean?" Jeongguk asks, voice weak as he hears his heart beat in his ears. "What's wrong?"

It pains you to do this. Like nothing else ever has.

"We're too dependent on each other," you explain. "We need to find happiness on our own, we need to learn how to love ourselves - on our own."

'On our own.'

At that moment, when those words left your mouth - that's when the ground beneath him shattered. That's when his world fell apart. When the stars shining above faded and the sun in his sky disappeared - leaving him lonely with a single grey cloud, and a world that became sombre.

What went wrong? What did he do that made you leave? Could he have done something to prevent it?

As Jeongguk recalls the moment, he feels a weight push down on his chest as he lays on his back, making his breathing heavy. Tears are now welling up in his eyes, running down the sides of his face and making his pillow wet. His hands come up to run over his face as he closes his eyes, biting down hard on his bottom lip to keep himself from sobbing too loudly. If he gives into the pain, he knows it'll be too hard to swim back up to the surface again - too difficult to put his mask back on and start the day off like nothing's wrong.

He’s been keeping it inside since it all happened, only crying and letting it get to him when no one's around. He doesn’t want to worry anyone, since he’s well aware they have their own burdens to deal with - not wanting to put any extra weight on anyone’s shoulders.

Jeongguk sucks in an erratic breath before getting out of bed, his body heavy as he walks over to throw yesterday’s clothes on before wiping his tears with the back of his hand and leaving his room as quietly as possible, wanting to avoid conversation with anybody. He manages to leave the dorm unnoticed, thankful the members are deep in sleep because of the late celebration that was held last night after their recent release of the new album. He wishes he could enjoy it, he really does - but without you everything feels meaningless, empty.

Twenty minutes later, he arrives at the bighit building, bowing politely to everyone he passes on his way to the practice room despite the sorrow weighing him down - making it difficult to pick his head back up again.

He’s able to breathe out as he enters the studio, a quiet void surrounding him as he leans back against the door. He feels relaxed here, only thanks to the fact it's his escape - his way of numbing the pain, even if it's just temporary.

He's been coming here every day since the two of you broke up. Tour is slowly but surely approaching, and there are several new choreographies to learn. Jeongguk and the rest of the members had been practicing them for a few months now, and even though Jeongguk knows every single move like the back of his hand - he still comes here everyday to perfect and improve them. He wants everything to be perfect on stage, a single mistake making him doubt himself for the rest of the concert.

You know this very well, how hard he is on himself. You were the one who could make him feel better about himself, reassuring him that everything was fine even though he might've messed that one move up. What would he do now that you were gone?

However, practicing has gotten another purpose now, to simply act as a distraction for him - to get you out of his mind as he moved along with the beat. To get to that point where the oxygen burned in his throat, his chest falling up and down quickly as he tried to catch his breath while laying flat on the floor.

And that's exactly how he finds himself many hours later, shirt damp with sweat and sticking to his chest as he falls down onto the floor, his legs weak. He almost gasps for air as he looks up at the ceiling, loud music still playing through the speakers. Even though the room is completely empty, it almost feels crowded, like the air is pushing in on him, like it's suffocating him.

It feels terrible, but he finds himself relishing in the self-inflicted torture. It almost works as an antidote, ridding his mind of you - and during those few seconds, he feels free, and his body feels weightless.

But then it fades and small pieces of thoughts and memories slowly re-enter his mind as he catches his breath, the weight of sorrow gradually pushing down harder and harder over his ribcage once again.

Usually, after a tough session like this, he'd drive back to your place and spend the rest of the night with you - hours filled with cuddling and sweet kisses as the two of you find comfort in simply being close to each other. He misses it. It feels empty without you, and his days feel excruciatingly long.

Being close to you, admiring you - he won't get to do it anymore.

He wonders if you miss him too, if you're hurting too. Are you thinking of him right now? Are you longing to hold him, just like he’s longing to hold you? He saw the look on your face when you told him you wanted to break up, he saw that you too found it hurtful. But why would you do it if you didn't want to? He can't really grasp the reason why. Couldn't you find happiness together? Wasn't it enough? 

Wasn't he enough?

Jeongguk closes his eyes, trying to paint a picture of your face in front of him but the image in his mind is far from vivid. He can still remember everything, your beautiful eyes, your soft lips and how they felt against his own, your hand gestures you use so often as you speak, every single detail is still there, but the image is faint. He wants to reach out and run his thumb over your cheek bone, he wants to touch you - but he can't as you're slowly fading. It's torture, because even though your face might become more dim as the time without you increases, he's certain he'll always remember you and always compare you with everyone else. Compare the pink of your lips to others, compare how your eyes sparkle as you smile to others dull ones.

You'll always be it for him. You'll always have his heart.

Click.

The sound of the door opening brings Jeongguk back to the practice room despite the loud music already playing, his head turning to see Jimin walk in.

"Oh Jeongguk-ssi, I didn't know you were here!" Jimin says, smiling.

Jeongguk gets up from the floor, not really in the mood to chat or make small talk. He walks over and turns the music off, only now realising it’s dark out.

Jimin furrows his eyebrows in concern, slowly walking up behind Jeongguk. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," Jeongguk replies, voice cold - more than he intends for it to be.

Jimin can tell something's up, and he's well aware that the two of you broke up - but for what reason, he has no idea. Jeongguk is usually really happy to see Jimin, always teasing and joking around with him - exclaiming 'Jimin-ssi' every time he enters the room. But ever since you two broke up, there's been this heavy energy around him pushing him down. He hasn't been eating as much as he usually does, and Jimin has never known someone who loves food as much as Jeongguk does -  so seeing it naturally causes him concern. Jimin notices it all, he notices the way Jeongguk tries to hide it, but that's just how he is, he doesn't wanna trouble anyone else with whatever feelings he might have.

It's not the best trait of his. Eventually, it'll all become too much for him to handle on his own. Jimin dreads that moment has come.

"Jeongguk-" Jimin starts, but he's quickly interrupted.

"I'm fine!" Jeongguk says, his voice loud this time as the words echo through the silent room. "I'm fine," he repeats, now quieter as if he's trying to convince himself.

But he can't. He's not fine, and he knows it. He can feel his body getting weaker by the second, wanting nothing but to fall down and lay on the floor again - but at the same time, he feels like dancing more, he wants to move until he feels that burn in his throat again. The burn that numbs the pain of being without you, the heaving of his chest that forces him to focus on breathing instead of the bitterness your absence brings.

"Jeongguk," Jimin tries again, conscientiously deciding to continue when there's no reply. "I know you're struggling, but keeping it all in won't make it any better."

Jeongguk only listens, still standing with his back facing the older.

"You should talk to someone about it, anyone - just get it all out."

"I can't," Jeongguk mumbles, feeling as if someone is squeezing his heart with all their might.

Thinking about it over and over is one thing, but having to talk about it out loud would ruin him - it'd hurt even more. He'd have to accept it. Accept that you're no longer with him, that he won't get to kiss and hold you close again.

"Gguk," Jimin says, placing his hands on Jeongguk's shoulders.

The name sounds foreign as Jimin says it.

Gguk. That's what you always called him, except for when you were annoyed at him - only then voicing his full name. The memory makes Jeongguk want to smile and break down all at the same time.

It's too quiet, he's too still - and he feels the pain slowly seep back into his heart. "I can't," he repeats, but in a whisper.

"Why?"

Jimin makes Jeongguk turn to face him, only now seeing his glossy, tired eyes. How his lips quiver and how his skin seems unusually pale.

There’s so much pain, too much for him to handle.

"It hurts, hyung," Jeongguk sobs as everything he's been keeping inside bursts, his head falling to land on Jimin's shoulder. "It hurts so bad."

Jimin embraces him, a bothersome feeling appearing in his stomach at the sight of Jeongguk this way. His dear Jeongguk, having his heart broken for the first time.

You were his first love. You changed his life, and Jeongguk thought he had reached the peak of fortune even before you came along, but it turned out he hadn't. You quickly became someone he valued, that someone he had dreamt of - that someone he could give all his love to. But you're not next to him anymore. You're not laying next to him in the morning to accept his lazy kisses. There's no one next to him running their fingers over his back, connecting his birthmarks with light touches of a finger - creating constellations over his skin.

He thought he'd have you forever. Trying to imagine his life without you, it just came up as nothingness in his head - blank and pointless.

Jeongguk doesn't want to admit to himself it's over. If he tries hard enough, he's sure he could pretend this was just another day, finishing up at work to go home to you and hold you in his arms. But that wouldn't be fair to you, and not to himself either. Deep down he knows it, he knows it's over - that the two of you are no more. But he feels as if he's stuck at the end of a finished sentence, just before the punctuation mark. He wants to jump over it, but he can't bring himself to take that leap, that leap to move on from you and what the two of you had.

He's heard many times, in books and movies the two of you have watched together, that first love is something you'll always remember. So surely, there's no hope for him. He won't be able to move on from you no matter how hard he may try to.

He's certain he'll never find a love like that again. He's certain he won't find someone like you, who could make him as happy as you did.

Jimin softly runs his hand over Jeongguk's hair, thinking of what words to say next that could make him feel better. But his thoughts are halted when Jeongguk slowly pulls away from him, his breath irregular as he grabs his phone on the desk behind him before he starts walking towards the door.

"Jeongguk, where are you going?" Jimin asks, worry evident in his voice.

"I need to see her."

Jimin instantly starts walking after him. "You shouldn't."

"I have to see her," Jeongguk says, now exiting the practice room.

"I really don't think it's a good idea, Jeongguk," Jimin warns, having to jog after him to keep up.

Jeongguk only keeps walking, hastily passing staff in the corridor - not bothering to bow or greet anyone this time.

"Jeongguk, stop. You're not thinking straight."

He turns as Jimin grabs hold of his bicep tightly, keeping him from getting further.

"Let go."

He doesn't, his hand only tightening as his fingers dig into the skin.

"Let-"

"What are you gonna do? Huh?" Jimin asks, voice stern as he looks into the younger's eyes. "It's over, Jeongguk. You can't just go over there and see her, you don't have the right to anymore. It'll only make everything worse for the both of you. Seeing her will only make things harder than what they already are."

Jimin's words only cut deeper into his wounds and even more tears start falling from his eyes, creating wet paths down his pale skin. He groans out loud as the pain takes over once again, hands coming up to tug at his hair as he shuts his eyes tightly - trying his best to cope with the seemingly endless suffering.

"I just need her to let me know," he chokes, eyes opening to meet Jimin's.

"Let you know what?"

"That it'll all be fine, that I'll be fine," Jeongguk sobs. "I need her to let me know it's over."

"It's already over Jeongguk, don't you know?" Jimin says, concerned as his eyebrows furrow.

"It's all so blurry in my head I can’t remember anything clearly," he says through erratic breaths. "I need her to tell me it's all over, so I can move on. It hurts too much, I can't stay like this - I need to find peace."

"I'm not sure if it's-"

"Hyung," Jeongguk interferes with a desperate look in his now red and puffy eyes, taking a firm hold of Jimin's shoulders. "Please, I can't take it anymore."

Jimin sighs, his head in conflict with his heart. But after a few seconds, his grip on Jeongguk's arm loosens hesitantly.

After a last glance at Jimin, Jeongguk turns to continue towards his car - hurrying off to see you.

For the last time.

You're sitting at your kitchen table with your laptop in front of you, head resting in your palm as you try to come up with the right words for your essay. You've been sitting here since 10 PM, for almost an hour now, yet your document remains empty. It's almost funny how much it resembles your life at the moment.

Empty.

He's gone.

Jeongguk. Jeongguk. Jeongguk.

It’s all you've been able to think about.

You push the thoughts of him to the back of your mind for probably the eleventh time these past thirty minutes. You let out a frustrated sigh, sitting up straight in your chair as you feel your back ache.

You would've opted for the couch, but that would only bring you more burden. His scent still lingers on the fabric, the memories of him in your arms planting light kisses over your face all too fresh in your mind for you to face.

Two months, and still, you couldn't sit on your own couch. Pathetic.

You're weak. 

You've done this to yourself. Everything about your relationship with Jeongguk was fine, but it felt wrong to rely on each other that much. You were raised to be independent, raised by your parents to be strong and stand up for yourself, to do what's right.

You longed to be with him again, to feel his skin under your fingertips - to feel his lips against yours and his hot breath against your skin as his face finds home in the crook of your neck as you hold each other close. But the timing wasn't right.

You want to be able to say you truly love yourself, that you're content with the person you are and that you're genuinely happy - without the influence of anyone or anything else.

Maybe fate will bring the two of you back together in the future, when all is right. You hope it will. Oh, how you hope it will.

You knew how big of a risk you took while making that decision, that it could ruin everything good you had together. But you felt it was the right thing to do, not only for your own sake, but for his as well. The both of you need to find yourselves, before you search for someone else. Perhaps Jeongguk even more than you, since he didn't have as much time as you for self-searching before you found each other, the reason being how early in his life he started to work.

Ten more minutes gone, and your document remains blank.

You need to stop thinking about it. You need to stop thinking about him.

You run your fingers through your hair before putting your focus on the display in front of you. A sudden inspiration hits you and you exhale in relief as your fingers start pressing the lettered keys.

But a sudden sequence of knocks against your front door interrupts you.

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

The universe really doesn't want it to work out for you, does it?

You get up from your seat nonetheless, walking over and unlocking the door before pulling it open. The person standing in front of you almost makes you choke on air, taking a step back in surprise.

Jeongguk.

You simply stand in front of each other, the rest of the world fading as silence surrounds you. It's only the two of you now, eyes meeting for the first time ever since that night when you last saw each other.

You notice he's been crying, his eyes glossy and swollen. It makes your heart ache.

You caused this. This is all your fault. It’s your fault he’s hurting.

Your vision becomes blurry as tears collect in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall. But you don't let them, blinking them away and swallowing the sobs back down.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, your voice weak even though you try your best to sound okay.

Who are you trying to fool? You're not okay.

You haven't been ever since that night on the balcony. It takes all of your willpower not to throw your arms around him, apologize and let him know it’ll all be okay.

Jeongguk's bottom lip starts quivering again at the sight of you. You’re right in front of him, but he can’t touch you - he can’t embrace you even though that’s all he wants in this world.

"I miss you," he utters with a broken voice.

You don't know what to respond with, but your mind wanders to a place where it shouldn't be - making unwanted words linger on the tip of your tongue.

I miss you too. Please come back.

You can't say that. It goes against everything that's happened.

Jeongguk turns as he hears the sound of keys rattling, knowing very well it's the building inspector that comes every eveing close to midnight to make sure it's peacefu. It's the sound you'd faintly hear outside the door when you had movie marathons, or when you just laid on your couch talking until the AM.

Jeongguk, to show respect and reassure that everything's fine, turns to bow to the man as he walks past - but as he does he's ridden of all strength, and it causes him to stumble forward and fall to his knees on the floor.

Out of habit to care and make sure he's okay, you gasp as you rush up to him and get down to sit on your knees in front of him - grabbing a hold of his shoulders to support him as his head hangs with exhaustion.

You’ve seen this before. This is how he gets when he overworks himself, when he neglects sleep or food because of work. It pains you to see him so weak he can’t even stand up.

All you want is for him to be okay, to be healthy and happy.

"Jeongguk," you say, voice laced with concern. "Hey, look at me."

His eyes flutter closed as you cup his face to hold his head up, and you feel him lean into your touch.

"What are you doing?" You ask, shaking lightly to get his attention.

He only lets out a weak groan in response, falling into your embrace and letting his forehead rest against your collarbone. You’re sitting in the middle of the hallway with a weak man in front of you, completely helpless with no one to call out to for help.

You look around to see that the inspector is long gone, probably in the elevator already on his way to inspect the last few floors.

Shit.

"Jeongguk?" you say to gain his heed again, letting him lean on you still.

"Mm?" he mumbles, voice rough.

"Are you not taking care of yourself?" You ask, guilt and sorrow creating a knot in the pit of your stomach.

You hear him as he starts to sob, tears running down and dripping off his nose - falling onto the fabric of your shirt, causing it to become damp. "I miss you so much."

"I know Jeongguk, I know," you hush, fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I love you so much it hurts, all I want is to be with you.” He cries. “Why did you let me go?”

Your heart squeezes tightly at his words, tears once again welling up in your eyes. You can’t help but let them fall this time, but you wipe them away quickly. You need to stay strong for him, and for yourself. If you let yourself fall down that hole, you won’t be able to trust yourself - th hurt could make you do something you regret.

You could take it all back and go back to the way you were before, but you know it's wrong. You can't play with his feelings like that. You need to stay true to your words and find yourself before giving your relationship with him another chance.

No matter how much it hurts to see him like this, and how much it hurts to be away from him - you need to stick with what you've said.

He gathers the strength to pick his head up and look at you, his face dangerously close to yours. Only a few centimeters and you could feel those pink, soft lips against yours again.

"Do you miss me, too?" He whispers, tears still running down the curves of his cheek.

You look away to avoid his gaze, his sad eyes, the stars in them faded - it hurts too much to see them that way. You find yourself caressing his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, wiping the wet paths away. "Of course I miss you, Gguk. But we can't let it change anything, not right now."

"When?"

"When you've found yourself, and when I've found me - when we've figured out who we are as people, who we are without each other. Maybe we can try again then, if fate is on our side."

"Really?" He sniffles, breathing now a bit more steady as he sits up straighter.

You look into his eyes again as you let your hands fall from his face.

"Only on one condition," you say.

He looks at you with tired, but hopeful eyes. "Anything."

"I want you to take care of yourself. I want you to eat and rest well, and please don’t overwork yourself. Be focused on yourself, and on your own goals - and I don't want any of it to be influenced by me. And if you find someone who makes your heart flutter-" you pause, noticing how he opens his mouth to oppose you.

He wants to tell you he won't find anyone else, that he'll wait for you until the both of you are ready. But you speak again before he gets the chance to.

Besides, he shouldn't. If that's what you want, then he'll accept it if he finds someone special.

But no one will compare to you.

"- then I want you to explore that and see what it could turn into - maybe they’ll be your soulmate.” You smile at him. “I want you to have fun with your friends and spend time with your family. If you can do that for me, maybe we'll start over and try again in the future when we know who we are."

Jeongguk feels the weight finally lift off his shoulders and how his heart starts beating more easily at your words. Still sitting on the floor outside your apartment, he looks at you - and it doesn't hurt as much.

He feels free.

Everything is going to be okay.

He’ll still miss you, still miss waking up to you, kissing you, hugging you - but he can live with that. You’ll always be in his heart, and he’ll always be in yours.

You have each other.

"Promise me?" He says, holding his pinky out.

You look down, unable to hold back the small smile spreading on your lips.

You hook your pinky with his, looking into his eyes once again - seeing a spark of hope shining in them.