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The Grand Canal wasn’t so grand the first time Seonghwa saw it. Now the last time—nothing would ever top that. A perfect mirror of the dying sun, an endless pink sky, and him: bronze, broad, and sweet. God, he’d been sweet back then, even though Seonghwa had been bitter and spoiled.
“Ready to say goodbye?” he’d asked, stripping off his black blazer and draping it over Seonghwa’s shoulders. Then he held Seonghwa’s cold hand in his warm one and slipped it into one of the pockets.
When Seonghwa pulled his hand out, it was full of flower petals.
But all that comes later.
⚘ 𖤣 ⚘
Bookmarked by luvstar
11 Jul 2026
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There he was again.
For the third time that week, San stood in line for coffee behind the tall man with the oval face. The stranger leaned over the glass case, eyeing rows of brightly colored macarons glittering like jewels. He wore the same gray cardigan, now paired with a new leather bag that looked expensive.
It wasn’t so strange, running into someone at the same café most days, even in a big city. People were creatures of habit.
The strange part was that San always came at a different time. Yet still, the man was there.
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Bookmarked by luvstar
09 Jul 2026
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Seonghwa has a fascination with the hot jockey at the stable and is a bit too interested in what a crop might feel like against his own skin.
The temp name for this was "Watch me whip, Watch me neigh neigh".
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Yunho just offers him a small, sad smile. “Okay?” He breathes after a moment of silence, silently asking for Mingi’s consent to continue.
Mingi just nods, and parts his lips even further.
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Addiction was one of those things Yunho had in common with Mingi. They had it in common with everyone out here, though, when it came to cigarettes. Rationed out better than actual food, and fought over like boys in a schoolyard. Yunho itched for the feeling of that thin paper between his fingers, the itch growing stronger with every morning he woke up.
(Title from 'Possibility' by Autoheart)