bloom

The roses were all Mark had ever known. His eyes had first opened upon the endless scarlet fields, and his first breathes had touched his lungs with air that was thick and sweet. The soil had clung to his skin as he rose, drinking in the deep blue sky and the rows and rows of roses that stretched up to meet it. He hadn’t known what they meant, at first, and had spent his days wandering, knowing he should’ve been looking for something but not being able to grasp what it was.

As the sun had sunk into the horizon, he’d knelt beside one of them. Its petals were soft and delicate between his timid fingers, but he was shocked to find vicious thorns lining the stem, pulling blood from his skin that matched their velvet blossoms. He’d slept with an ache in his chest and a faint burn in his thumb, body pressed into the cool soil as each breath floated up to the stars.

Now, he knew to stay awake a bit longer, to wait for the moon to bathe his scarlet world in silver and dim the vivid curls of petals to a shade that didn’t sear his eyes and bring their angry blaze to his dreams. He sat under the blanket of stars, small under a sky as vast as the fields around him. 

The ache in his chest, which he suppressed during the day with searching eyes and purposeful footsteps, returned as he waited. Most nights, Doyoung visited him just before the moon reached its peak in the sky, and left when it began its steady descent. Some nights, he never came at all, and Mark’s chest burned so brightly that he couldn’t sleep. He hated those nights.

Doyoung settled behind him soundlessly, eyes roaming the blooming fields and mouth twisted in the hint of guilt that he always seemed to carry lately.

“Thank you,” he said, just as he did every night that he came to sit with Mark for a few precious minutes. Some nights, the words were enough to ease the ache, but Mark had spent the last two nights alone.

“Do any of them remember me?” he asked, digging his fingers into the soil as if they could grow roots. 

Doyoung’s gaze dropped from the stars to his hands, clasped in his lap. “Sometimes.”

His voice shivered, and he swallowed heavily after saying the word. Mark’s heart fell.

“They don’t ever have anything good to say, do they.”

Doyoung sighed. “It’s not that, it’s just, they only know you as the person who, you know, killed them.”

Mark hated the hot tears pooling in his eyes, and he raised his forever lowered stare to peer at Doyoung’s face. “But I have to! You’ve always told me, that they can’t all stay forever, and the withered ones are supposed to be ready! Why aren’t they ever ready, Doyoung?”

Doyoung stayed silent, though Mark saw his eyes tighten. Mark’s own eyes were wet, cheeks soaked with tears and lips trembling with the force of his sobs.

“Why do they get to leave? Why- Why do they get to go, up there, while I’m stuck here?”

Doyoung winced, and Mark’s pleading stare sharpened to a glare when he saw tears forming in the other’s eyes. Why should he cry, when he was able to pass in and out of Mark’s scarlet prison with ease, when he spent his days surrounded with life and love? Why should he cry, when he had everything that Mark had ever wanted?

Doyoung rose to his feet, and Mark followed, gulping down the tears clumping at the back of his throat. His hand darted out to grasp Doyoung’s wrist as he tried to walk away, the chill of loneliness overpowering the envy dripping in his heart.

“Please don’t go. You- You never came last night. Or the night before. Can’t you stay a bit longer?” Mark rasped, the sound of his voice reminiscent of the way that the air rustled the roses at dusk.

Doyoung turned in Mark’s hold, a tear falling down his cheek. He pulled the boy into a hug, resting his cheek on his head and running a shaky hand through his hair. Mark froze in his hold, unfamiliar with the heat and safety that came from the embrace.

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung whispered, and then he was gone.

Mark wrapped his own arms around his waist, but no matter how tightly he held himself, it wasn’t the same.

Doyoung was the only other person Mark had ever known. He’d interrupted Mark’s aimless wandering a few days after he’d woken up, but he’d been different, back then.

Mark had run up to him, hope billowing in his chest and a smile shining under his eyes, a torrent of questions waiting to spill from his lips, only for Doyoung to jerk back from him with a frown. Mark had shrunk under his piercing gaze, desperate for the approval of the only person who had broken his solitude.

“You have to pick them, you know.” He’d sounded annoyed, disappointed in Mark before the boy could even begin to understand why.

“What do you mean?” 

“The roses. You’re supposed to take care of them.”

Mark flinched when he raised his voice. “But, what am I supposed to do?”

“Pick them! When they look like they’re on their way out, pick them. It’ll make sure the healthy ones can grow well,” he explained, turning to the rows of roses around them and searching for an example. “Like this one.”

He gestured towards a flower whose petals drooped, blossom hunched over the ground. “The ones that look like this. Pick them. That’s why you’re here.”

Mark’s eyes had gone wide at the words. That’s why you’re here . There was a purpose in them, a reason for his existence, a tether in the terrible expanse that he’d found himself in.

Doyoung had frowned again at the smile that lit up Mark’s face. 

“What is it?”

Mark shook his head, unable to stop grinning. “It’s just, nice to have something to do, I suppose. I wasn’t really sure what to do with myself in the past couple of days.”

Doyoung’s face had gone carefully blank, an expression Mark became familiar with over the years. He’d nodded before turning away, ripping the ground from under Mark’s feet. 

“Wait!” he’d called out in a panic.

Doyoung paused, but didn’t turn back. “What?”

“Well, um, will you be coming back?”

“If you’d like me to.”

Mark fidgeted and looked down at his feet. “That, that would be nice. It’s just, it’s kind of lonely out here. And, I think it will be better, now that I know what I’m supposed to do, but it would still be nice if you could come back somehow. You’re the only one who’s been here.”

Doyoung’s shoulders had visibly tensed, his head ducking. “I’ll be back tonight,” he’d said, and vanished.

Mark turned to the wilting rose, kneeling beside it and carefully cradling it’s heavy head in his palm. Mindful of the thorns, he gripped its brittle stem and pulled, ripping it from the ground. It had taken more force than he’d expected, and he’d accidentally crushed some of the fragile petals in the process. He’d supposed it was an art he would have to perfect.

He stood up and brushed off his knees, ready to search for the next withering blossom. And then the air had shimmered, a ripple in whatever reality he inhabited, and a woman appeared in front of him.

Mark had stared at her in shock, unable to believe his luck in being able to meet not one, but two people that day. He’d only broken out of his stupor when she stumbled back, face paling and thin trails of tears cutting into her face.

“Is everything alright?” he’d asked, desperate for someone to stay this time. “Is there something I can do?”

She had shook her head softly before staring at the wisp of a rose in his hands. 

“This one’s almost dead, that’s why I picked it. It’s my job to take care of all of the roses here. Look, there’s so many beautiful ones! I can pick one for you, if you’d like.”

She had brought a trembling hand to her lips before she vanished, leaving Mark with nothing but brittle petals and rotten thorns. He’d stared at them for a while, remembering how pale her crystalline tears and ashen face had been against his blood red fields. 

And then he had continued on, scouring the hills for a blemished leaf or a curling petal. By nightfall, he had collected an impressive pile of wilted roses. His eyes ached from peering into the scarlet expanse all day, and his fingers were stained and sore from thorns. 

For the first time, Mark felt satisfied, as if he had accomplished something. He imagined Doyoung would be impressed with his work, that he might stay longer than a few words this time. Mark had also met several people throughout the day, though like Doyoung, they never lingered. Most of them seemed confused, staring out at the rows upon rows of roses with a faraway look in their eyes. 

He had always asked them questions — who are you? where are you going? can you take me with you? — but only one of them had responded, and Mark preferred to forget his anguished cries. The others had only pushed him to wander further, to search even harder, for even these wisps of people were company, and Mark hated nothing more than being alone.

When Doyoung arrived, Mark had immediately shown him the results of his hard work. Upon seeing the pile of wilting stalks and crumpled blossoms, Doyoung had looked sick, and left without saying a word.

Mark shivered at the memory, cursing himself for being so ignorant. He hated to remember the horror twisting Doyoung’s face on that night, so many years ago. He hated to think that Doyoung was still sickened by the thought of Mark passing his days by tugging at rotting stems and stacking their remains like trophies.

Maybe that was why even after all this time, he rarely looked Mark in the face. Maybe it was a small mercy, hiding his disgust towards the boy who could only destroy the world of beauty he’d been gifted.

After that fateful day, when Mark had destroyed any rose short of perfection, Doyoung had returned explain that each rose held a life inside. He had told Mark through gritted teeth that all of the people he saw were souls, making their way up to the heavens and on to whatever lurked beyond them.

He’d assured Mark that the withered roses were ready to be cleared away, to allow for new life to bloom, but even now, after years pulling soul after soul from their body, Mark didn’t think that anyone was ready. They all seemed to know, when their foggy gazes landed on him and the dying blossom in his palms, that he was at fault. And although many of them were peaceful, they all held a heavy sadness in their faraway eyes.

When Mark rose the next morning, he could barely remember the warmth of Doyoung’s hug. He basked in the sun, the soil warm beneath his toes, but nothing felt right. The only thing he could do was wander on, gaze down on the ruby blossoms and heart heavy with solitude.

He was more careful now, inspecting each petal and leaf before giving a testing pull, seeing how firmly rooted it was. Only the roses who were soft beneath his fingers and who almost slipped from the soil ended up strewn along the ground. It was rare that a soul spoke to him, but he still waited for each one to appear, just in case. 

As the sun began to set, he wondered if Doyoung would still visit him that night. He wondered why the other bothered visiting at all. Mark’s sole purpose was to tend to his fields, to provide a smooth transition between the realities outside of his own.

And so he wandered the fields a bit later than usual, until his shadow had disappeared under the moonlight and each rose was reduced to the same muted burgundy. Doyoung appeared earlier, standing in front of him and meeting his stare head on. The eye contact was unnerving, leaving Mark feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Doyoung took a step towards him, and for once Mark could clearly read the guilt painting his features.

“It’s my fault that you’re here,” Doyoung started. “This used to be my job. Part of it, at least.”

Mark’s heart was numb. Doyoung swallowed heavily.

“There are twelve of us, up there. And we used to have to come here every day and pick a few roses, whenever we could, to keep the balance. It was just the way things had always been. And it wasn’t as bad for us, because we could come whenever we wanted, and we split the work between us, but we all hated it. And one day, we thought, what if someone else came here? Just to pick the roses?” He finally looked away from Mark, eyes glassy, and shook his head.

Mark was still as stone in the moonlight.

“And so I ended up picking one last rose, not even a dying one, and we decided that that person would stay here and do it all for us. See, Taeil minds the door, so he did something so that you couldn’t go anywhere but here. Forever. And, that person ended up being you. And I know now how wrong it was, to do that, but there’s nothing I can do to change it now.”

So Mark had been a soul once, and Doyoung had uprooted him from his blissful life. Mark had spend hours upon hours thinking back to those first waking moments. Even now, as he trudged through his rows of roses, he pondered the empty cavern of his memory, head filled with knowledge of everything but himself. He’d come to convince himself that it was meant to be that way, that he had been brought into being to tend to the roses.

Doyoung had said it was his purpose, but Mark realized that it wasn’t, and it never had been. Mark had been human once, with a wealth of experience behind him and an eternity ahead of him. He’d been blessed with an ability that he would never have access to again, something so uniquely mortal — the ability to live with the sole purpose of living. 

And Doyoung had been the one to rip it all away from him.

“That’s why you thank me, every night.” Mark’s gaze was glassy in the icy moonlight, eyes trained on a horizon that was the same no matter how far he walked, and would always stay that way.

Doyoung eyes widened before he composed his expression with a heavy swallow. “I- Yeah, of course, you- you’re making everything so much better for me, for all of us. I’m just sorry that we never stopped to think about how horrible it would be to do it all alone.”

Mark nodded, mind hazy. 

He remembered a time when he had plucked at the petals of a vibrant rose, rubbing one between his fingers and piling them in his palms. Doyoung had been furious when he found out, demanding that Mark pull the poor naked flower from the ground and put it out of its misery. 

“You told me, once, that there was nothing worse than taking someone’s life away from them without letting them truly die, that there was nothing more cruel than to force a husk of a human through an eternity of suffering,” Mark repeated the words from ages ago.

Doyoung’s face was stricken. “When you were peeling the petals.”

Mark nodded. “Isn’t that what you’ve done to me?”

As Doyoung stared at him, face twisted with anguish, he found that he couldn’t summon any of the anger or desperation from the night before. He couldn’t find the energy to do anything but stare blankly at the only one who had ever cared for him, now that he was also the reason behind Mark’s suffering.

But the more he thought about it, the more he understood. Mark knew the feeling of hating every coming day more than any other, and even the fraction of that feeling that Doyoung had felt would be enough to make anyone want to force the responsibility on to someone else. Except Mark didn’t have that option. Doyoung had experienced far more of eternity than Mark had, and he had seen far more of reality that Mark could even imagine.

“Please go.” He ignored the part of him that wanted nothing more than for Doyoung to stay, because he had fallen prey to the hope that burned in his chest, and he knew now that nothing could ever change, and if he didn’t put out the flames soon he’d be left with an empty ribcage and charred bones.

Doyoung’s lips tightened, and Mark wondered if he knew. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

He turned away, and Mark’s weak heart crumbled. 

Just before he disappeared, form blurring and vanishing, he paused. His shoulders slumped in a way that Mark wasn’t used to, head ducked to expose the defeated curve in the back of his neck. His fists clenched at his sides.

“Thank you, Mark,” he whispered, and then he was gone.

Mark collapsed, knees digging into the earth and tears cascading down his cheeks, pooling between his thorn-pricked fingers and settling into the weary lines of his palms. For so long, he had clung to the idea that these fields of roses, this world of lives waiting to die at his hand, belonged to him. That every bone in his body, every inch of his skin, had been built for this one purpose.

But Doyoung could have chosen any rose. He’d even said that the one he picked wasn’t wilting. So why had it been Mark? Why had he been condemned to this monochromatic life, red with roses and blood and pain? Why was it that he was only allowed to touch death? Was he undeserving of the brilliant life that flourished around him? Would he have to pass his entire miserable existence without once knowing how vivacious beauty felt under his fingertips?

He had tried, once, to pick a perfect rose. It’s stem had been firm and proud, ruby petals lined with the softest velvet. He had cradled it in his palms, savoring the heady warmth that soaked his lifeless skin.

It had disintegrated in a moment, collapsing in on itself in a gruesome corpse of brittle leaves and rotten petals. The soul that had appeared had stayed for longer than usual, wailing at the sky and cursing the boy kneeling at its feet in sorrow. He’d never touched a perfect rose again, for the routine pain of killing a dying rose was nothing compared to the anguish of ruining such vibrant beauty.

He would give anything to be able to hold life within his hands without harming it, to have even the tiniest piece of a dazzling spirit to call his own. Even Doyoung, who shone brighter than anything he’d ever seen, couldn’t look at Mark without being reminded of what he was. And besides, Mark’s entire world was a fraction of Doyoung’s. Though they were the most precious moments of Mark’s life, the delicate minutes he spent with Mark under the moonlight were probably a chore for the other. 

Next time, Mark should tell him to stop coming back. The thought alone made more sobs wrack his quivering body, but he knew it was the truth. Now that he had the full story, it was obvious that Doyoung only came around to make up for his guilt, to pay back the endless pain he had cut into Mark’s being. And Mark couldn’t bear the idea that he was hurting the only person he’d ever have the luxury of meeting.

His purpose, no matter how it had settled upon him, was to bring death. He didn’t deserve Doyoung’s company, and he had been greedy to keep asking the other for more.

Mark curled up in a bed of thorns, unable to stop his gasping breaths and muddy tears. Once, his purpose had empowered him. Now, he condemned himself to his pain, only hoping that he could stop it from digging its claws into anyone else.

Mark woke to a sun already high in the sky. His skin was tight from his tears, and he felt cold despite the warm golden rays slipping over him. A light breeze ruffled the fields, and Mark watched his roses dance. One of them bowed heavily, graying leaves tired and thorny stalk unable to stand tall against the current of air. Mark pulled himself to his feet and stumbled towards it.

His body carried him away before the soul could appear, steps steady. His eyes were open but unseeing, and he walked for miles without stopping for a single wilted rose. He’d thought he’d resigned himself to this, but he was powerless to do anything but wander on. 

The sun sank low, cradled between the soft hills of the horizon and spilling thick golden light over a valley. Mark stumbled, feet tangling together and knees giving out. He barely felt himself hit the ground, but as his palms met the earth, one of his fingers burned with pain.

He’d fallen on a rose, a tall strong soul with full scarlet petals and shining emerald leaves. The stalk was bent harshly, completely severed from the base. Blood welled up in the scrape along his finger, and he watched it build and spill to his knuckle.

Was he only capable of hurt? Were his hands truly meant for nothing but death? He stared at the fallen rose, somehow even more beautiful than all of the others, and mourned the life that it had held. He wished he could sink into the earth, hide his harmful existence and pray that the soil would shield the world from him.

The blood on his finger slid to the back of his hand, curving to his wrist before losing momentum. 

“Are you alright?” a voice asked, soft and bright and unlike anything Mark had ever heard. “That looks nasty.”

A boy stood before him, illuminated in the setting sun, and Mark felt his breath still in his lungs. His hair was lighter than Doyoung’s, and it caught the sun in a way that captivated Mark. It curled over his forehead, some of it falling over his dark eyes. Mark was astonished by how open they were, unguarded in a way that Doyoung’s had never been. His brow was furrowed with concern, but there was none of the ancient pain that always lurked in Doyoung’s worried gazes, only something purer.

The boy knelt down, confusion further twisting his soft features at Mark’s lack of response. Mark followed his eyes to see the murdered rose, and he felt his gut twist. Of course, this beautiful rose, never meant for Mark’s hands, would hold the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

“Ah, it was the thorns, wasn’t it. I would’ve thought you’d have it figured out, they’re everywhere! How do you even manage them all?” The boy looked out over the rolling scarlet hills, awe glittering under his thick eyelashes.

“I, I pick all of the bad ones. Well, not, not the bad ones, but the ones that aren’t, um, doing very well.” Mark hastily sat up, fumbling fingers wiping the dark soil from his skin. 

The boy nodded. “Well then,” he gestured towards the blood staining Mark’s hand, “you must be pretty used to that by now.”

Mark blinked at him and shrugged. “It doesn’t happen very often.”

“I hope not. Really, what is this place, though? It looks like they go on forever!” He said it with a smile, blissfully unaware of what endless fields of roses could feel like.

“They do.”

The boy snorted. Mark froze as he picked up the broken rose, his rose, and held it up in the syrupy sunlight. “At least they’re pretty!”

Mark marvelled at the way the rose stayed firm in his grip, at the way this boy’s fingers didn’t steal the life from it’s frail blossom. He watched the boy consider the flower, holding it up to the horizon. He watched his eyes darken in an expression that Mark was all too familiar with.

He wasn’t sure how, but they always knew. 

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” he asked as the sinking sun cast a shadow over them.

Mark nodded. “They’re not just roses.”

He didn’t bother standing up. It wouldn’t take long for this boy to understand, and then he’d be off like all the others, cursing the one who crushed his rose and stole his life.

“Is that why you pick the dying ones?” The boy’s voice was heavier now, and Mark hated the way that all he could do was take the light away from people. Even this boy, who shone brighter than anything Mark had ever seen, would dim in Mark’s presence.

“It means they’re ready.” Mark hesitated. “Yours- Your rose wasn’t like that. I just, I made a mistake and I broke it and now you’re dead.”

The boy stayed silent.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said, and returned to his endless wandering. Regardless of the boy’s reaction, Mark knew it would hurt. No matter what he might say, he would still move on, drift away from Mark’s world of roses and on to the next stage of his journey, and Mark would be stuck in his prison with only the memory of such dazzling life in his presence.

Mark walked even as the stars began to twinkle in the sky above him, and he wondered if the boy was already dancing among them. 

He still hadn’t picked any roses. What if another beautiful life was woven into their roots? What if the boy was watching him from above, waiting for him to destroy someone else? 

“Hey!”

Mark shook the voice from his head. He shouldn’t have let this one soul, this one life, get under his skin. He continued walking

“Hey, stop!” Warm fingers circled Mark’s wrist, and he stared at the boy they belonged to in utter disbelief. His smooth cheeks were flushed, and his breathes were heavy. “I was afraid I’d never find you. The roses, they really do go on forever, don’t they?”

Mark stared back at him, eyes wide. He couldn’t think beyond the heat of the fingers around his brittle wrist, past the rich eyes peering at him.

“I’m Donghyuck,” the boy said. “And, I’m going to be honest, I can’t really get over the idea that you killed me, but I understand that it was an accident, and you’re the only person I’ve seen here, and all of these roses might have seemed pretty at first but it’s really lonely and a bit scary, so.”

He dropped Mark’s wrist and took a step back when he finished speaking, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve.

“I’m Mark,” he responded, and his voice sounded distant even in his own ears.

“Well, hello, Mark. Can we stick together in the future? You seem to know more about this place, and I hate the idea that there’s nothing out there but roses.”

Mark couldn’t get over the fact that this vivid being hadn’t flickered out yet. He was overwhelmed by the pure energy before him, so bright it was almost blinding.

“How are you still here?”

Donghyuck frowned. “What do you mean?”

Mark gulped, gesturing futilely. “A soul appears every time I pick a rose, but usually they sort of, disappear after a bit. No one- no one’s ever stuck around for this long.”

“You mean, I was supposed to go somewhere?”

Mark wanted to keep the words trapped behind his lips, wanted to keep Donghyuck with him, but he was too bright for Mark’s dismal world. “Souls always go up there, in the sky. That’s where everyone else is. You should probably be there too. With them.”

He refused to look at Donghyuck’s face, to watch him peer upwards with excitement and leave Mark behind without a second thought.

“Why can’t you go?”

Mark sighed wearily. He’d asked Doyoung the same question countless times. “I have to stay here. Someone needs to tend to the roses.”

“Are you the only one down here?” 

Mark winced at the incredulity in Donghyuck’s voice.

“Yes. It’s better that way.”

“That can’t be- Surely you have some company?”

Mark shrugged. “There’s one person, who visits at night. But, the rose-picking — it’s not a job I would wish on anyone.”

Mark didn’t remember closing his eyes, but they flew open when Donghyuck took his hands in his own. His eyes, when they met Mark’s, were narrowed in determination, something blazing in their depths.

“Well that doesn’t seem very fair. I’m sure there’s a way out somewhere, we’ll just have to find it.” Donghyuck grinned at him, and Mark had never seen anything like it. 

“We?”

“Me and you! Didn’t you just say that no one else is here?”

“You don’t want to leave? Go on, wherever it is that souls go?”

Donghyuck shrugged. “I don’t know where that is, or what’s there, or who’s there. At least here I have good company.”

Mark was reeling. Donghyuck… wanted to stay? With Mark ? He had never imagined anyone willingly staying with him, much less someone as bright as Donghyuck. Even in the pale moonlight, he was as warm and golden as the sun, and Mark couldn’t help but be completely entranced by him.

“Come on, it’s dark, and you might be used to all of these spiky plants, but I’m going to hurt myself if we keep walking. Where do you sleep?” Donghyuck asked as he dropped Mark’s hands, peering around them.

“I usually just find an open spot and, I don’t know, settle down. But, we have to wait for Doyoung first,” Mark explained. He led Donghyuck to the top of a hill, high enough that it felt like the starry sky was wrapped around them.

“He’s the one you mentioned, earlier,” Donghyuck mused as they sat down. 

Mark couldn’t tear his eyes from the other’s face. The stars glinted in his eyes, which were wide with wonder. The curve of his mouth was soft, gentle, and his skin was dotted with moles.

Donghyuck must have felt the weight of his gaze, because he side-eyed Mark with a quirk of his lips. “What?”

Mark’s cheeks flushed. “Sorry, I just, I’ve never seen anything like you. You’re so… alive .”

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow. “I’m quite literally dead, I think.”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s a different kind of life. Something… vibrant, even here. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Donghyuck stared at him, seemingly at a loss for words. His ears flushed, and Mark worried that he’d said something wrong. He fiddled with his fingers, terrified of going too far and pushing Donghyuck to leave him.

“Well, I, uh, I’m sure if you’ve seen lots of souls. I can’t be all that different.”

Mark shook his head. He raised his gaze to meet Donghyuck’s, looking him square in the eye. “I’ve seen millions of souls, and none of them have even come close.”

The flush in Donghyuck’s ears spread to his cheeks, and a smile tugged at his lips. Mark basked in the warmth of it, feeling it seep into his bones and ease the ache in his chest in the same way that Doyoung’s hug had. It lingered even as Donghyuck’s face fell, features tightening into something more severe.

“You said millions of souls. How long have you been here, Mark?”

Mark hugged his knees to his chest. “Longer than you can imagine.”

He’d stopped keeping track after a few years. Time didn’t matter when every day was the same, and would always be that way. But now, he supposed, now there was something different. Something special .

“Where were you, before?” Donghyuck’s voice had gotten quieter in the stillness of the night, and Mark hated the undertones of sadness he heard in it.

“I can’t remember,” he replied. He thought of what Doyoung had said, about him being a soul, just like Donghyuck. “Do you remember your life, before being here?”

“Sort of? I have memories, but they don’t feel like my memories. Or, it doesn’t feel like that was my life, I guess. It’s detached, in a way,” Donghyuck explained. 

They settled into their thoughts, a comfortable silence slipping over them. Mark wondered if he had, at some point, remembered his life, and had forgotten. He wondered if Doyoung knew anything of his life. He wondered if he had left anyone behind, and if they had encountered him when they died and appeared in a bed of roses.

“You were crying, when I first saw you, and not because of the thorns.” Donghyuck’s voice broke the silence. 

Mark pulled his knees tighter to his chest, burying his face in them. He’d been trying not to think about it, to focus on Donghyuck’s warmth rather than the raw pain in his chest, but his eyes began to burn with tears once again.

“Doyoung told me that I used to be a soul,” he started, voice muffled. “The people, up there, whoever they are, they didn’t want to have to pick the roses anymore, so they made me do it. It was completely random, I was just-” His words gave way to sobs, and he squeezed himself as hard as he could in an effort to suppress them. His gut twisted at the idea of Donghyuck’s happiness being tainted with pity and sadness for Mark, of his vibrant life growing weary in the stench of Mark’s death.

An arm wound around his shoulders, rubbing soft circles into it. Mark tensed at the unfamiliar contact before melting into it, leaning into Donghyuck’s side in an effort to to feel as much of his warmth as he could. It was different, crying into someone. Letting go of his sadness in a warm, safe embrace.

“Mark, I’m- Mark?”

Mark jerked to sit up straight at Doyoung’s voice, Donghyuck’s arm falling from his shoulder. He hastily wiped his face and stood, Donghyuck doing the same.

“You must be Doyoung,” Donghyuck greeted him, though something firm lurked in his bright voice.

Doyoung glanced between Mark and Donghyuck, mouth open and eyes wide. “How long has he been here?”

Mark bit his lip. He’d known it wasn’t right for Donghyuck to stay, but he didn’t think he could make it if he left. “A while.”

Doyoung frowned, still getting a handle on the situation. “Well, um, if you’re having trouble moving on, I can bring you up.”

Mark stared at his feet. If he watched Donghyuck go, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from trying to make him stay.

He flinched when warm fingers took his hand, weaving their fingers together and giving a light squeeze. 

“I’m good here, actually. I think Mark needs some company,” Donghyuck replied, voice even firmer than before.

Mark felt a smile creep over his face, bunching up his cheeks and pressing into his eyes. He peered out from under his hair to find Doyoung watching them, his gaze calculating. Donghyuck squeezed his hand again, and this time Mark tightened his own fingers in return. 

Doyoung stepped forward, eyes back on Mark. “And what makes you think that?”

Mark was close enough that he heard Donghyuck huff. “He’s been stuck here forever, basically! And I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure how this all works, but it seems like he’s doing all of your dirty work while you just get to go off and do whatever you want.”

Mark held his breath. Nothing like this had ever happened before. He had no idea how any of this worked either, he realized. Was Donghyuck not allowed to be here? Would something happen if he stayed?

And then Doyoung smiled, his entire body relaxing in a way that Mark had never seen before. Mark decided then that smiles were the most beautiful thing, more beautiful than all of his roses combined. Doyoung’s smile was wide, and lit up his entire face, making him look younger, as if the burden of a thousand years had been lifted from his shoulder.

And though Mark couldn’t see his own smile, he loved the warmth that bubbled in his chest when he let himself grin. Though nothing compared to Donghyuck’s smile, and the pure starlight that it radiated.

Doyoung’s eyes went glassy, but Mark could feel that he too had let go of some of his sadness. “What’s your name?”

“Donghyuck.” The reply was instant.

“Well, Donghyuck, it’s my duty to give the souls what they want,” Doyoung said with a sly grin. 

“So he can stay?” Mark cut in, taking a step towards Doyoung.

He nodded, and Mark couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around him, burying his smile in his shoulder. Doyoung held him just as tight, and Mark wondered how they had never hugged in all of their years together. Hugs were magical .

When they parted, both had teary eyes and brilliant smiles.

“I can’t refuse him. And I’m glad that someone decided to stay with you, Mark. You deserve it,” Doyoung explained, and Mark was shocked by how fond the words were. 

He turned to Donghyuck, the sole source of all of this newfound warmth in his life, and found the other glaring at Doyoung, lips thin.

“If you care about Mark so much, why have you never done anything to help him? He hasn’t just been here for a couple of days, he’s been here for years, and from what I’ve gathered, you’ve been here for all that time too. So why was he alone here for so long?” Donghyuck jabbed an accusing finger towards Doyoung, and Mark watched the familiar guilt invade his eyes. He almost wished Donghyuck could take the words back, but even though he hated seeing Doyoung in pain, he needed to know.

“I don’t have much of a say, anymore. After word got out about what I did to Mark, I was pushed to the bottom. It means I get to slip through the gate and visit Mark, but it also means that I don’t have much power to help. I can’t change anything, I can only guide things to where they are meant to be, and souls are meant to be wherever they desire,” Doyoung explained.

“So you’re saying that no one before me ever even considered staying? No one even thought to ask?” 

Mark curled in on himself. “Most souls can’t even talk to me. And the ones that do aren’t very friendly.”

“Mark has the most difficult job of any of us, up here,” Doyoung stated. “Many of us, who used to bear the same burden, have forgotten it. At first, I just wanted to get Mark on track. I was never supposed to get attached, but now, Mark, I consider you as one of the closest people to me. I know I’m not the best at expressing it, but we’re family Mark, and I can’t describe how happy I am that you won’t be alone anymore.”

Doyoung glanced upward, and Mark knew the time was coming. 

“If he chooses to stay,” Mark began, needing to know one last thing before letting Doyoung go, “will he ever be able to change his mind? Can he ever leave, or will be here forever, like me?”

Doyoung’s eyes narrowed as they slid to focus on Donghyuck. “He can change his mind.”

“But I won’t,” Donghyuck declared, and Mark felt another smile spill over him at how sure he sounded.

“You better not,” Doyoung replied. He ruffled Mark’s hair and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Mark.”

And then it was just Mark and Donghyuck, a jaded spirit glowing in the pure moonlight and a vibrant soul glowing golden. They curled between the lines of roses, their roses, blanketed by the midnight sky. 

“Mark, I was thinking, about everything you told me and what Doyoung said, and I’ve thought this from the start, but, I hope you understand that you don’t deserve any of this,” Donghyuck murmured. He had shifted to face Mark, and his eyes were deeper than the sky above them.

Mark swallowed heavily. “How do you know?”

Mark had gotten lucky today, possibly the luckiest he would ever be, but it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t deserve the beauty currently at his feet. He was unworthy of this life in front of him, so vibrant that he could only take as much as he could get.

“You’re good, Mark,” Donghyuck said. His voice was more serious than Mark had ever heard it, and he held Mark’s gaze in his own. “You’re so good, I knew it from the moment I saw you. And you deserve the best because of it.”

Mark had thought the cavern etched into his chest by years upon years of pain was bottomless, but it wasn’t deep enough to hold the happiness taking root in his chest, and it overflowed. He couldn’t contain the smile stretching his lips, the flush in his cheeks. He took Donghyuck’s hands in his own, and found the same expression on the other’s face, beaming back at him like a thousand sunrises.

If he could cause that, maybe he was worth something. If Donghyuck, the brightest being in the universe, had chosen him, maybe he did deserve something more than his fields of roses.

He melted under Donghyuck’s warm gaze, feeling as if everything inside of him was slotting into place. 

“That’s why I got you.”

Mark wasn’t sure that he knew what happiness was, but as the days went on, he thought he’d finally been allowed to dip his fingers in its rich golden heat. He woke each morning with the sun, cradled in warm arms rather than piercing thorns, faced with beauty curled in his embrace rather than standing stoically above him.

Donghyuck never woke with the sunrise, and Mark treasured the moments when he could feel the deep breaths and steady heartbeat from beside him. He would watch as the sun crept higher, spilling over his delicate features, glittering in his curls and pooling on the tip of his nose.

As heat seeped into them, Donghyuck’s eyes would flutter open, and Mark would be powerless to stop the warmth that flooded him at the sight. 

But the most extraordinary thing about Mark’s new reality with Donghyuck was that each morning was special . Sometimes, Donghyuck would immediately meet Mark’s gaze and grin. Sometimes, he would shy away from the blinding sunlight and curl into Mark’s chest, dozing off for a bit. Sometimes he wouldn’t open his eyes at all, basking in the morning heat with a soft hum.

Mark lived for the differences that came with every sunrise. Even if their days followed a vague routine, Donghyuck had gifted him with breathtaking variation.

Donghyuck usually stood first, helping Mark to his feet with a gentle hand, and they would embark on their day of wandering. They would walk, hand in hand, chattering as they went.

Mark would scour his fields as always, eyes searching for the crumbling petals of a wilting life, only now he dedicated most of his attention to the boy beside him. Donghyuck would always pause when Mark knelt to pick a rose, watching as he laid it gently down to rest. He would tug Mark away before the soul could spill into the air, protecting them both from the cold ache of death.

On their first day together, Donghyuck had tried to help him. He had reached out to a withering blossom with his golden fingers, a mix of wonder and apprehension in his eyes.

Mark had been hyperaware of the life bubbling in Donghyuck’s spirit, of the brilliant light that sparkled within him. He felt the burden of death dampening his own soul, wrapping around it with cold fingers and weakening what little remnants of vibrancy he had.

He’d yanked Donghyuck’s wrist away, breaths coming fast, eyes wide and unfocused.

“But I’m here now,” Donghyuck had said, confusion lacing the words. “I’m here to help you.”

Mark had shook his head. He would never allow Donghyuck’s pure soul to be tainted by his own dirty work, would never let death’s greedy fingers touch him. Mark had already hurt him enough, by keeping him.

So now, Donghyuck just watched him work. He’d never brought it up again, though Mark was sure he didn’t understand. Mark wasn’t sure he fully understood it himself.

They settled down for the evening in a valley, where the red dotted hills rose around them on all sides. There was a breeze, and the hilltops that they usually spent their nights on felt a bit too restless.

Doyoung settled across from them with a smile, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the starry sky, framed in curves of scarlet.

“How do you always find us?” Donghyuck wondered, gaze also upward. “This place, it’s endless, right?”

Doyoung shrugged. “Not necessarily. This garden, it’s fluid rather than endless. It’s an odd place, between realities. As a higher spirit, it’s malleable to me, so I can just enter wherever you are.”

Mark frowned. “What does it look like? From the outside?”

Doyoung fixed him with a long look, and Mark knew he was deciding how truthful to be.

“You can just make out the rows of the roses, if you look close enough. It looks like a picture. Endlessly still and peaceful.”

After he left, Mark stared up at the stars. They, too, seemed endlessly still and peaceful. He wondered if they were just as lost and lonely as he had once been, before Donghyuck had chosen to save him.

“Do you think there are other place like this?” Donghyuck asked from beside him. His body was warm where it pressed into Mark’s side, and when Mark turned he could see the soft curve of his cheek, arching into eyes that sparkled in the moonlight.

“I hope so,” Mark murmured in response.

Donghyuck hummed as he rolled on his side to face Mark. Somehow, his eyes still held the starlight glittering above them.

“I doubt they’re as beautiful as this, though,” Donghyuck added, smiling softly.

Warmth bloomed in Mark’s chest, trickling through his limbs until he awash in contentment. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I’ve never seen a sky like this. It’s somehow… closer than it was when I was alive.” Donghyuck raised his arm, pressing his palm upward with his fingers spread wide. “It looks like I can reach out and feel it.”

Mark was lost in his eyes, so full of awe, and a comfortable silence settled over them. He wondered if there was anyone out there, wandering another in-between reality. Maybe they were looking up right now, to rows and rows of roses, from a bed of stars. 

He hoped that they had someone like Donghyuck. Someone who appreciated their little world, someone who would always stay.

“What if you stopped?” Donghyuck asked one day as he and Mark ambled away from a freshly picked rose.

Mark frowned. “Stopped picking the roses?”

Donghyuck nodded, and Mark blinked at his thoughtful expression.

“I can’t just-That would upset the balance! The only reason I’m here is to pick them, I can’t just stop ,” Mark responded. 

He couldn’t imagine leaving his roses untended, abandoning the sole purpose behind his existence. Donghyuck would never be able to understand, never feel Mark’s bone deep urge to scour the crimson fields and put the poor, wilting blossoms out of their misery. 

“No, I know that, but.” Donghyuck trailed off, turning away from Mark. “They’d have to do something, right? If you’re not doing it, they’ll have to find some other way to get it done. And then we’ll be free.”

Mark froze. He should’ve known that this was coming, had pushed down all of the warning signs and avoided thinking about it too much. Now, he recalled the way that Donghyuck’s awestruck gaze at the endless rows of roses had soured, how the curiosity lighting up his entire being had dimmed. 

Of course Donghyuck wanted to be free. 

It didn’t matter how beautiful the roses were, or how vast the night sky was. Mark’s reality was a prison, no matter how perfect it was inside.

Donghyuck audibly swallowed, and Mark couldn’t focus his stare to look at his expression.

“I know you’ve never known anything else, and I haven’t really either, but isn’t it worth a try? You’ve never even met whoever’s up there, other than Doyoung, and we have no idea what it’s like. I just know that we deserve better, and I think this might be a good way to get that,” Donghyuck explained, and Mark wondered how long he’d been thinking about it. How long he’d been yearning to escape.

He should’ve seen it coming, really. He’d been selfish to think that Donghyuck’s brilliance could survive in Mark’s world, that the other could truly be satisfied with Mark’s bleak reality. 

“I can always ask Doyoung to bring you.” Mark’s voice was quiet. He hoped it was loud enough to cover the sound of his heart breaking.

He should never have let Donghyuck stay in the first place. Mark’s fields weren’t meant for the bright spirits that so often passed through them, and no matter how hard Mark tried he would never be brilliant enough to make up for his monotonous world.

“No, Mark, that’s not-” Donghyuck moved to grip Mark’s hands in his own, squeezing them firmly. “Mark, look at me.”

Mark tried to blink away his tears as he met the other’s gaze, but a few trickled down his cheeks. 

“Mark, I’m not going anywhere without you,” Donghyuck told him. He let go of one of Mark’s hands to wipe away his tears, and he let his thumb rest on the soft skin under Mark’s eye, stroking gently.

“Then there’s nowhere to go!” Mark cried out, voice breaking. “I’m not like you, Donghyuck, I’m stuck here. Forever. It’s my duty to, to pick the roses, they need me down here.”

Mark took a heaving breath, pulling himself from Donghyuck’s grip and wrapping his arms around himself. When he spoke again, his voice was low and raspy. “I understand that you want to move on from here. It’s- You’re supposed to want that, and you deserve to experience everything beyond here. But I’m not like that.”

“Why not?” Donghyuck cut in. “Why don’t you get to move on like the rest of us?”

Mark shook his head. “I’m just not, okay? I thought you understood that, when you agreed to stay.”

“I agreed to stay with you, Mark, not here !”

“But they’re the same thing!” They were both yelling at this point, and Mark took a step back, shaking his head. 

Donghyuck sighed, the energy between them fizzling out. “You keep saying I deserve to leave. I just wish I could get you to understand that you do, too.”

Mark stared at him. 

“I’m not sure if it’ll do anything, but can we at least try? Not picking the roses?”

Mark’s thoughts were such a mess that he didn’t even know what he was feeling. Donghyuck couldn’t possibly understand the weight on Mark’s shoulders, so heavy that it had sunk into his bones and become a part of him. The mere presence of Donghyuck in his life was more than Mark would ever dream of asking for, but Donghyuck was still reaching for more.

Mark didn’t have the capacity to ask for that much. He supposed he didn’t really have the capacity to do anything other than pick his roses.

Then again, he’d never wanted anything like he wanted Donghyuck to stay. He’d been so lucky that the other had landed in his realm, and that he had decided to stay. And now that he knew what it was like to have the other brightening his days, he couldn’t imagine going back to being alone. 

Donghyuck was watching him think, and Mark looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were warm as always, golden in the afternoon sun, and Mark felt himself getting lost in them.

Neither of them knew how much he had sacrificed to stay with Mark. He had taken a leap of faith to stay with a boy that he didn’t even know, the boy that was the reason he had to make such a choice in the first place.

Maybe it was Mark’s turn to be brave.

“Okay,” he whispered. 

Donghyuck’s eyes widened, a grin stretching his full lips. “Really?”

Mark nodded. “You, you’ve done so much for me, Donghyuck. So, I can try, if it’s for you.”

Donghyuck rushed forward to embrace him, and Mark felt the jagged edges of his fear soften. 

“Thank you,” he murmured into Mark’s shoulder.

Mark woke the next morning to yet another version of Donghyuck. He was already sitting up, and had pillowed Mark’s head on his lap. He had a hand in Mark’s hair, softly twisting the soft strands in his fingers as the morning sun spilled over them.

For a while, Mark was content to just look up at him. He swore he had all of Donghyuck memorized, but every time he looked at him he found something new to appreciate. From this angle, he focused on the slope of his neck, the mole dotting its center. No matter how many days he’d spent under the sun, Mark’s skin never took on the sun-kissed glow that Donghyuck had naturally.

“Does everyone else look like you?”

Donghyuck startled, having been unaware that Mark was awake. He peered down at Mark with a chuckle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mark found that there was no way to hide his expression in this position, openly staring up at Donghyuck. “Well, not exactly like you, obviously. But, compared to me you’re so, I don’t know, warm looking. Is that like, a you thing or a spirit thing?”

Donghyuck quirked a smile. “Aren’t you a spirit too though?”

“Well, I guess, but I’m different.”

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow at him, his fingers resuming their gentle motion through his hair.

Mark frowned up at him. “So you’re saying it’s a you thing.”

“Not just me, I suppose. I am special though.”

Mark nodded wholeheartedly. “I know that, obviously.”

Donghyuck flushed, and Mark grinned at the sight of pink dusting his tanned cheeks.

“I had a friend, though,” Donghyuck continued. “He was super pale, and we always joked that he was like a ghost. I think he was even paler than you are.”

Mark wondered what Donghyuck’s friends were up to. He hated to think that he’d stolen Donghyuck away from them, and how much grief he had caused them.

“Tell me about them.”

Donghyuck frowned. “My friends?”

Mark nodded. The air between them was more still, now, a bit heavier. “Whoever you remember. So you don’t forget them, like I did.”

Donghyuck’s gaze floated upwards, smile fading. “I met most of my friends when I moved to the city. We all went to school together, but we were in different years.”

Mark was enraptured in his bittersweet tone, in the soft smiles that would emerge at particular memories. It seemed that Donghyuck had had a second family, in his friends, and Mark was glad to know that he had been just as much of a sun in his past life as he was to Mark now. 

Occasionally he would compare someone to Mark, or Doyoung, and Mark smiled at the idea that Donghyuck’s world had shifted to welcome him. He wondered what it would have been like to know Donghyuck when they were alive, if he would’ve fit in with his rambunctious group. Had Mark ever been like that? Energetic and daring — alive ? 

The sun was high when Donghyuck trailed off, and Mark’s back was stiff from lying down for so long. He pulled himself into a sitting position, immediately missing Donghyuck’s warmth. 

Donghyuck’s gaze was still on the horizon, stuck in foggy memories of a past that had been taken from him. Mark scooted over and leaned into his side. He wished he had stories to offer to Donghyuck, but there was nothing in his life that Donghyuck was unfamiliar with. His only memories of being alive were vague feelings, tiny fragments of a picture that was missing too many parts for him to put it together.

“Have you ever been in love?” Mark asked, voice raspy from disuse.

A faint smile crossed Donghyuck’s face. “I’m not sure, to be honest. Probably a little, a few times.”

A fragile silence lingered between them.

“What does it feel like?”

Donghyuck closed his eyes. “I don’t exactly remember. But I think it’s about feeling comfortable with someone, and like you never want to leave them. To love someone, you accept their flaws, you understand them and love them without ignoring the problems.” He gave a dry chuckle. “In the movies it’s all about your heart beating fast and you brain clocking out whenever you’re near them, which I guess is true at first, but I think it mellows out eventually.”

Mark stared out on his roses. Had he ever loved before? Did he love like Donghyuck said, or was it like the movies? Had he ever had anyone who made his heart beat fast, who he wanted to be with forever?

He supposed he wouldn’t have known much about forever, before coming to the fields. But now he had to face it head on every day, with only Donghyuck by his side. Donghyuck was his forever, he supposed.

The thought was a thousand times sweeter than a future with only his roses.

They got up eventually, Donghyuck pulling Mark to his feet with a brilliant smile and a warm grip on his wrist. His fingers slid down to tangle with Mark’s as they walked, and Mark could barely think past the blinding heat of the constant touch.

He refused to look at anything but Donghyuck, refused to let his gaze fall on the roses snaking along the hilltops. Donghyuck talked more about his life, about school, his family, anything that had been important enough for him to cling to when he passed on. 

Mark was astounded by how much had changed. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had been alive, he’d always convinced himself that the years felt longer than they really were, but the world Donghyuck described seemed like a dream.

Donghyuck laughed when Mark explained it. “Gosh, you must be ancient.”

His eyes were dark at the edges, despite his light tone.

“Do you remember if there was anything you wanted?” Donghyuck asked suddenly, pausing just before the crest of a hill. “Like, really wanted. Hopes, and dreams.”

Mark frowned. His hand had slipped from Donghyuck’s a while back when they had stumbled down a hill in an exhilarating burst of energy and laughter, and he missed it’s steady comfort.

“I don’t remember wanting, really,” he said after a while. “I think there were more things that I didn’t want. But I always dreamed of the ocean.”

“The ocean?”

Mark nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it, but it’s supposed to be endless, isn’t it? Just waves and waves, untouched by humans. I always thought it sounded so free, so untamable, and I suppose I wanted to be a bit like that.”

His words trailed off into a hollow silence. Donghyuck’s eyes were cast downward, both of them still as a slight breeze slipped by.

“It’s a bit like your roses, when you put it like that.”

Mark imagined that the words felt like a wave crashing over him, tugging at the shifting sand under his feet.

“What about you?” he asked, rather than responding. The question was bitter on his tongue.

“I’ve always wanted to be a singer,” Donghyuck answered easily. “I’ve always loved to sing, and I think I just want to share that happiness, with people.”

The sky was purpling at the edges, the night a bruise creeping over the day.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said, voice barely above a whisper. “I took that away from you.”

Donghyuck shook his head before Mark had even finished. “No, I think I was meant to come here, to you. Down there, there’re so many things to make people happy. But you?”

Something was bubbling in Mark’s chest, a tension that writhed inside him. It was warm, but it hurt, in an odd sort of way. 

“It was fate, that I ended up here, with you. You deserve someone who can make you happy.”

“But what about you?” Mark hated the thought that Donghyuck was giving his everything to Mark, when Mark didn’t even have anything to give in return.

“You make me happy too, Mark.” Donghyuck grinned and wrapped an arm around Mark’s shoulders. He was a bit slighter, even if they were about the same height, but Mark still felt small in his hold.

They continued to walk as the stars crept into the sky, the moon beginning to glow as the sun sank. Mark couldn’t help but notice Donghyuck beginning to dim, steps becoming slow and dejected at Mark’s side.

He leaned in closer and took Donghyuck’s hand, wondering if he would be able to protect him from the cold that so often lapped at his heart. He received a weak smile for his efforts, and then Donghyuck was leaning his head on Mark’s shoulder, his steps halting.

It took all of Mark’s effort to stop his shoulder from tensing up, becoming unwelcoming to the soft crown of Donghyuck’s head. His heartbeat quickened at the feeling of soft curls tickling his cheek, and he became hyperaware of the way his breath pushed and pulled at his shoulders, and therefore Donghyuck’s head — the ebbing and flowing of a gentle wave.

“Nothing happened,” Donghyuck murmured. Mark could feel the movements of his mouth.

“When I first came here, I wasn’t sure what to do,” Mark said by way of explanation. “I didn’t pick any roses, I didn’t really do anything.”

Donghyuck hummed. “How did you figure it out?”

“Doyoung came, on the first night. He really wasn’t very nice, at first. Pretty much yelled at me for not doing my job even though I had no idea what it was.” Mark gave a hollow chuckle. “And even when he did explain, he only told me to pick the wilting roses. I didn’t understand what it meant until he came back.”

“So they must know, then. That we aren’t picking the roses.”

Mark nodded, careful not to jostle Donghyuck’s head. 

“But they still haven’t done anything.” Donghyuck’s voice was hollow, lacking it’s rich warmth in a way that Mark had never heard before. 

Despite being against the idea in the first place, Mark found that this new, sad version of Donghyuck was worse than any other consequences.

“I’m sure they’re just making sure, waiting a little bit before they get involved,” Mark assured him. “Last time, I messed up because I had no idea what I was doing. But now, I’ve been doing this forever, so it’s a bit different.”

“You think so?”

Relief flooded Mark at the hope in his tone, at the way he shifted to press his cheek into Mark’s shoulder and peer up at him with wide eyes.

“Definitely. It’s not even that late yet.”

“Okay.” Donghyuck smiled softly, quietly in comparison to his usual wide grins. “I trust you.”

Doyoung never ended up visiting that night. He’d always skipped a few nights, of course, even more now that Mark had Donghyuck with him, but Mark wondered what it could mean in relation to their recent rebellion. He did his best not to dwell on it, instead he embraced the freedom of another day at Donghyuck’s side.

But as they walked, he couldn’t help but notice the withering blossoms dotting the fields. Each one held a pained soul, ready to move on but trapped in its earthly existence. Did he really have the right to deny them, especially when he was fighting against the same thing?

He paused in front of one wilting rose, heavy head bowed to the ground. There was a small pile of brittle petals beneath it, curled up and wrinkled in defeat.

Donghyuck stopped beside him and followed his gaze.

“They’re suffering, Donghyuck.”

They stood in silence, entranced by the dying rose.

Donghyuck eventually tugged on Mark’s hand, attempting to pull him away. His voice was soft and delicate when he spoke. “But you are, too.”

“I’m not, though! Not like they are!” Mark shouted, wishing Donghyuck would just understand . He wasn’t haunted by the echoes of anguished cries of a soul who’d had to wait too long, by the hollow gazes of souls who barely had anything left of themselves. “I might be stuck here, but I have you, and Doyoung.”

“And I’m sure most of these people have someone by their side,” Donghyuck said. “Even if they didn’t, they’re not here . They’re in a world with millions of people, and animals, and just- things other than roses. Don’t you want to experience that? Or just, something different?”

Mark shook his head, avoiding Donghyuck’s searching gaze. “Donghyuck, I don’t know any of that. It’s been so long that I can’t remember it enough to really miss it. All I really know is that you being here makes me happier than I could have ever imagined, and I don’t even know how I could ask for more.” 

He shifted, eyes still at his feet and voice growing small. “I know that it’s not like that for you, though. I, I know you want more than just me and my boring roses, so—” 

Mark gasped when Donghyuck kissed him, firm fingers gripping at his shoulder and tilting his jaw. The touch was grounding in comparison to the featherlight touch of his lips, which were gentle against Mark’s. 

Mark only remembered to breathe when Donghyuck pulled back a few moments later, his face somehow even warmer and more beautiful. He slid his hands up to cup Mark’s cheeks, and Mark watched him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“When will you get it through your pretty little head that I don’t want anything if it doesn’t involve you?”

Mark was awestruck by the glimmer in his eyes, the quirk of his mouth. He was powerless to do anything but gape at the brilliant boy standing in front of him.

He panicked when Donghyuck drew back his hands, his own fingers darting up to hold them against his heated skin.

Donghyuck had kissed him. He’d kissed him, and now he was staring at Mark with the warmest eyes he’d ever seen, and Mark could barely think past the pounding of his heart in his chest.

“I want to stay with you forever, Donghyuck,” he blurted. His fingers were tight where they curled around Donghyuck’s wrists.

The words lingered between them until Donghyuck broke into a breathtaking smile, a tension that Mark hadn’t even noticed draining out of him.

“That’s good,” Donghyuck said with a chuckle. He leaned in close enough that Mark could feel the ghost of his breath brush over his lips. “Because I’m certainly not going anywhere.”

He followed the words with another kiss, and this time Mark melted into it. His fingers slid from Donghyuck’s wrists to his shoulders, one creeping up to curl in his hair. The press of his lips was firmer this time, now that they both knew what it meant, and Mark did his best to press back.

He lost himself to the warmth blooming between them, and soon a radiant smile was pulling at his lips. A breathy laugh escaped him as they parted, an equally wide smile adorning Donghyuck’s face. Mark pulled him closer to rest their foreheads together, unwilling to part from the addictive heat of his skin.

Mark couldn’t stop giggling, the happiness bubbling in his chest overflowing and spilling out of him, and soon Donghyuck was chuckling along.

“You have the cutest laugh, I swear,” Donghyuck told him. 

Mark started chuckling again, and Donghyuck shook his head fondly before pressing another kiss to his lips, to which Mark easily responded.

Doyoung found them cuddled closer than ever that night. Donghyuck’s head was cradled in the crook of Mark’s shoulder, both of them pointing upwards as they made up constellations in the glittering night sky. 

He quirked an eyebrow as he approached them, and Mark felt nausea twist in his stomach. 

“So, did you do it on purpose or were you just… busy?” There was something stern in his voice, though his eyes were soft where they fell on Mark and Donghyuck.

Mark felt Donghyuck tense slightly, but he didn’t move beyond lifting his head to level Doyoung with a cool stare. 

“On purpose,” he responded. His tone bordered on mocking, a little too far for Mark’s liking. He swallowed down his discomfort and let Donghyuck take the lead. This was his plan, and Mark was just following along.

Doyoung pursed his lips. His eyes slid to meet Mark’s, but they weren’t sharp and accusative as he’d expected. Instead, he bit his lip before he spoke.

“You know that picking the roses keeps everything going, Mark. I don’t know when you guys started this, but we’ve been having problems all day.”

“Well then maybe you should consider that putting everything on Mark is selfish and unfair,” Donghyuck shot back, his voice cold. “If the rose picking is that much of a problem, find some other way to do it.”

Doyoung deflated. “Donghyuck, you know I know that. I’ve been doing everything I can to try to get Mark out of here, but, you don’t know what it’s like up there. It’s convenient, for them, to have Mark here, and no one wants to think about the flaws in the system.”

“And that’s why we’re making it inconvenient.”

Mark felt the tension bleed into him until he was digging his nails into his palms, looking anywhere but Doyoung or Donghyuck. He never should have gone along with Donghyuck’s plan, or he should’ve pushed it off, at least. He should’ve protected his taste of happiness while he had the chance.

Doyoung heaved a sigh. “I understand, I really do. But this isn’t the way to go about it. I have a plan, and I have an audience with Taeyong tomorrow, so please stop this. For your own sake.”

Donghyuck scoffed. “And this plan, how long have you been trying to get anywhere with it? How long will we have to rot down here while you guys get to go around doing whatever and then talk about us like an afterthought?”

Mark closed his eyes in the silence that followed. He knew Donghyuck didn’t really mean it, that they were rotting in Mark’s fields, but the harsh words in the context of such sharp conflict between the two people he loved most cut into him.

Doyoung and Donghyuck wanted completely different things from him, and Mark felt like he was splitting in two with the need to please both of them.

He felt the silence shift when a quiet sob bubbled in his throat, the tears he’d been holding behind his eyelids escaping. He kept his eyes closed even as Donghyuck shifted to stroke his hair gently, as he heard Doyoung kneel beside them and place a hand on Mark’s shoulder. 

He hated the idea of forcing change, but he knew he couldn’t let this go on for much longer. Both Doyoung and Donghyuck wanted the same thing, but it was up to Mark to decide how to go about getting it.

“I’m not picking any more roses,” Mark whispered. 

He opened his eyes to see Doyoung’s eyes widen, face twisted in sorrow. He met his gaze head on, willing him to understand. Even though Doyoung’s method was less extreme, more comfortable, Mark couldn’t risk losing Donghyuck. He couldn’t risk Donghyuck growing bored with his dismal world and leaving Mark behind.

Mark knew the moment that Doyoung stopped trying to convince them, watched his face fall and felt his hand tighten on his shoulder. He nodded, gaze hardening.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said. “Either of you.”

Mark sat up and met Doyoung halfway for a loose embrace, resting his chin on his shoulder. It was different from hugging Donghyuck, he thought. More calm and comfortable, lacking the surge of heat and happiness but just as safe and cozy. 

Doyoung swallowed audibly as he pulled away, and Donghyuck pulled Mark back into his side. He offered them a tight smile as he left, and Mark couldn’t help but hear the echoes of his warning.

Donghyuck continued to stroke his hair as they sat in a silence far heavier than before Doyoung’s visit.

“I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “I shouldn’t have fought with Doyoung.”

Mark shook his head. “No, no. I’m just, it scares me that things might change. It scares me a lot.”

For your own sake , Doyoung had said. I won’t let anything happen to you . 

Mark pushed down the nausea curling in his gut, pulsing in his chest. No matter what happened, Donghyuck would be with him. Doyoung, too. Even if everything changed, so much that his world became unrecognizable, he wouldn’t be alone.

Doyoung hadn’t visited the night after, and his warning churned in Mark once again. Now, he and Donghyuck sat hand in hand after another day of basking in only each other’s company.

Mark hoped Doyoung would come that night. He hoped his plan had gone through, that his audience with whoever Taeyong was had gone well. He hoped Doyoung would never have to protect them from anything.

Donghyuck pulled Mark from his thoughts with a gentle kiss. He had thought Donghyuck’s smile was the epitome of happiness, but somehow his kisses were even more powerful. Mark had quickly become addicted to the gentle press of his lips, to the firm touch that always came along with them. 

But even Donghyuck’s kisses couldn’t distract Mark from the fear simmering under his skin. His unrest must have shown, because Donghyuck paused to meet his eyes. His palms were warm on Mark’s neck, his lips a bit swollen, his cheeks dusted pink. Mark was captivated by the sight.

“What are you thinking about?” His gaze was soft, searching.

Mark took a deep breath through his nose. He wasn’t sure how to put any of it into words: the tightness at the back of his throat, the brittleness in his lungs, the constant writhing of his stomach.

“I don’t really know. I just feel, off, somehow.”

“About what Doyoung said?”

Mark shrugged. “Probably. I just, I hate not knowing. I hate that we’re here, waiting for something, and we don’t even know what it is, or how long we’ll even be waiting.”

Donghyuck slid a hand up behind his ear, stroking at the soft skin there. Mark leaned into the touch, letting his own fingers wander over Donghyuck’s shoulders.

“Maybe we aren’t waiting for anything,” Donghyuck murmured after mulling over Mark’s words. “Everyone goes through stages in life, but you don’t really know when one will end and a new one will begin. I had no idea I was going to die, and come here, you know? So maybe we’re just in a stage of being here, and not picking roses, for now.”

His gaze fell from Mark’s, voice going quiet. “I mean, I’ve really enjoyed just being with you these past few days. Like, a lot. So, I don’t really feel like I’m waiting for anything, if that makes any sense. It doesn’t really matter when the next stage comes along, because we’ll make the most of it, together. Just like we’re doing right now.”

Mark found it odd, that Donghyuck was the one who talking about being content in the rose fields, when Mark himself had been so against the idea of trying to leave. He supposed he’d gotten used to the idea of moving on, had allowed hope to blossom in his heart for something better. 

But now he had gotten so caught up in what could happen that he had ignored the beauty in those past few days with Donghyuck. It seemed Donghyuck found the perfect balance between thinking about his future and living for it, while Mark’s head spun at the idea that there was something different , something unknown , ahead of him.

“You, you’ve been happy too, haven’t you?”

The raw vulnerability in Donghyuck’s voice tore at Mark’s heart.

“Donghyuck, these have been the best days of my entire life. Even the parts I can’t remember.” Mark shook his head in awe at the realization. “I didn’t even realize it was possible to feel this happy.”

A smile tugged at Donghyuck’s lips, soft and timid, and Mark internally kicked himself for not paying enough attention to the complete and utter perfection in front of him. He was still afraid, probably would be until Doyoung returned and explained what was happening, but the strength of his fear paled in comparison to his love for the boy sitting right in front of him. 

He leaned in to press a firm kiss to Donghyuck’s mouth, wishing he could share the astonishing elation blooming in his chest. He let its blossom unfurl as he tugged Donghyuck closer, the petals pressing out into his chest and overwhelming the remnants of fear.

They eventually broke apart, panting lightly, and Mark couldn’t look away from the flush sitting high on Donghyuck’s cheeks, the endless warmth in his eyes.

“I think I love you,” he blurted out. His head felt empty of everything but that single thought, as if loving Donghyuck was the only thing he could do.

A radiant smile overtook Donghyuck’s face, pressing into his cheeks and crinkling his eyes. He took one of Mark’s hands in his own, and they wove their fingers together, palms warm against each other.

“I just might love you, too,” he responded, and somehow Mark’s elation grew impossibly stronger.

“Which one of you is Mark?”

Mark awoke to the voice grating against his ears, low and gruff in a way he wasn’t used to. Four men loomed over him, glaring as Donghyuck groaned into his chest.

They were faded somehow, lacking the vibrancy that both Donghyuck and Doyoung emanated, and their faces were rough and jaded. Mark met their glares with wide eyes, his arms tightening where they were wrapped around Donghyuck, who was still buried in his chest, foggy with sleep.

“What’s going on?” he asked instead of responding. They were threatening in a way that he had never really seen before. Even before he had known Doyoung beyond his sharp words and cutting gaze, Mark had never felt so vulnerable.

“You Mark?” 

Mark held Donghyuck’s head to his chest when he tried to look up, and met the man’s stare head on. He gave a tight nod, ignoring the way his fingers quivered in Donghyuck’s hair.

The man’s eyes narrowed, and Mark had to tilt his head back to look up at him and he stepped closer. 

“Get up.”

Donghyuck’s fingers curled into Mark’s wrists. 

“I said get up!”

Mark felt as if his entire being was shivering, the man’s shouted words pulling on an ugly tension that clawed at Mark’s chest. He carefully pulled his legs out from underneath Donghyuck, hoping that he would be left out of whatever this was.

One of the souls rolled his eyes and stormed over, yanking at Donghyuck’s shoulders and ripping him from Mark’s grasp.

“What’s your problem?” Donghyuck exclaimed as he stumbled back, still trapped in the stranger’s hold. “Don’t touch me!”

Mark scrambled to his feet. He couldn’t let anything happen to Donghyuck, couldn’t let them take him away, or hurt him, or— 

A fist collided with Mark’s cheek, and he reeled from the force of it. The pain that bloomed under his eye was thick and syrupy, pressing into him like the weight of a thousand stones, nothing like the sharp fireworks of pain that came from thorns.

“Hey!” Donghyuck yelled. “What do you guys even want?”

They both knew the answer, but Mark had never thought their plan would play out like this. He felt as if he were outside of his body, a spectator of his own being.

“I want to know why you freaks had to go and screw everything up,” the man growled. He stalked towards Mark, eyes narrowed. “Pick the roses.”

Mark gasped, unable to look away from the pure hatred emanating from the man before him. “I —”

“No!” Donghyuck shouted. Mark’s heart broke at the desperation coating the word. “He’s not picking any more roses! We’re—”

The man holding him down clapped a hand over his mouth, reducing the furious words to muffled grunts.

Mark felt the breath leave his lungs. “It’s not his fault, please don’t hurt him, it’s me, I’m the one who stopped, he never—”

Mark doubled over as a knee collided with his stomach, shattering what little strength he’d had left.

“Pick the goddamn flowers, or we’ll bring him home with us.”

Mark panted heavily, unable to look up from his position on his hands and knees. Everything was numb until the man kicked him in his side, and Donghyuck began screaming behind the hand covering his mouth.

Mark’s whole body trembled as he rose to his feet, frantically scouring the roses for a withering blossom. He spotted one and stumbled over to it, feet snagging in the soil and thorns tearing at his skin.

“Where the hell are you going? Pick the flowers, or you’ll never see the kid again!”

Mark froze. “I, there’s, I found one over t-there.”

The man bent and yanked a rose from the ground beneath him, fist crushing the brilliant ruby blossom. The ugly snapping sounds of the roots being torn from the earth ate at Mark’s heart.

The man tossed the rose at Mark’s feet. “It’s not that hard to understand.”

“You can’t— that was perfectly healthy.” Mark’s voice shook like petals in the wind.

The man scowled, and waved a hand at his friend. “Take the kid. I’ll deal with this one.”

The ground fell out from under Mark’s feet. “No!”

He blindly ran towards Donghyuck, who was writhing in the firm hands pinning his wrists together. There were tears pooling in the corners of his eyes when Mark finally looked up at his face.

A hand caught at Mark’s shoulder and he fell back, powerless to do anything but watch as the other men dragged Donghyuck away. He wondered if this was what death felt like, if this was what it felt like to have your soul ripped from you body, a vivid rose wrenched from the ground.

“Donghyuck!” he cried out, voice weak from tears and pain and shock.

He shouted something back, but it was too muffled for Mark to make out, and Mark felt panic grip his throat, the reality of what was going on finally sinking in.

He was losing Donghyuck. He was losing the boy who had changed his fields of roses forever, the boy who had changed Mark forever. He was losing his sunshine, his hope. His love.

Another rose was tossed at his feet, and Mark stared down at it in horror.

“Pick your fucking flowers,” the man hissed, meaty fingers suffocating another vibrant blossom.

Mark had no idea how much time had passed when an ice cold voice cut through the symphony of wailing souls. He barely noticed when the infuriated growls at his back, demanding that he pick rose after rose after rose, ceased. He continued to pull his fragile flowers from the ground, numb to the sight of souls rising up around him like smoke, of hundreds of roses rotting into the dark soil they’d been laid to rest on.

“Stop.” A gentle hand held his wrist as Mark’s fingers closed around another firm stem. “Mark, he’s gone, stop.”

Mark crumpled to the ground, burying his face in his crimson fingers. His hands and forearms were sticky with blood, but it was nothing compared to the massacre he’d just committed.

His breaths began to quicken, lungs clogged and throat caving in on itself. He felt as if he were fading into the gaping space between realities, and for once he didn’t care enough to try and tether himself.

Donghyuck was gone. Innumerable roses lay dead at his feet. His eardrums rang from the screaming, his eyes were blurry with his tears. His skin was dark with his own blood, and his spirit was forever tainted by the blood of others.

“Mark?” 

He had no idea who the voice belonged to, or how it knew his name. The men had known his name, too. They hadn’t seemed to know Donghyuck’s.

“Mark, look at me. I need you to breathe.” The words held none of the ice that they had for the man, rather they were steady and soothing against the ringing in Mark’s head.

He raised his eyes to examine the man before him.

He was kneeling in the soil, and his skin shone like moonlight even in the warm morning glow creeping over them. His gaze was as steady as his words, and Mark latched onto it, desperate to escape the chaos raging within himself.

As Mark’s breathing steadied, the man placed a careful hand on his shoulder. 

“Where’s Donghyuck?” Mark asked as soon as he remembered how to form the words.

“He’s safe, he’s with us,” he explained. “He’s with Doyoung, actually.”

Mark struggled to put the pieces together. He felt as if he couldn’t think over the white noise in his head. “How?”

The man shook his head, and the rest of his words began to click together in Mark’s hazy brain.

“Who are you? How do you know Doyoung?”

The man fixed him with a careful stare. “How much has he told you?”

Mark shrugged. “Nothing really.”

“I’m Taeil,” he started, and Mark thought the name was vaguely familiar. “Doyoung and I are part of a group of higher spirits who keep everything in order.”

Mark went silent. The higher spirits seemed to be the whole reason he’d been condemned to rose picking for the rest of eternity.

“Doyoung saw Donghyuck, above, and that’s how we found out about what happened. I came here as quick as I could.” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry that I let this happen.”

Mark chuckled, a humorless exhale. “What do you mean, ‘let this happen’?”

Taeil watched him closely, but Mark was too exhausted to identify the expression tightening his features. “I’m responsible for the doors between realities, or dimensions, whatever you’d like to call them. It’s my duty to stop people like those men from going where they shouldn’t.”

Mark lacked the energy to react, though a dull ember of anger simmered in his stomach. “So how did they get in, then?”

“The twelve of us were holding a meeting, a meeting about you, actually. I had to leave my post to participate.”

“What do you mean, about me?”

“Doyoung’s been trying to find an alternative method for picking the roses for a while, and he finally got this one up to Taeyong, so we all had to vote on it. We were on our way to retrieve you when Doyoung spotted Donghyuck, and everyone else ended up staying behind to deal with them.”

Mark nodded dumbly. So Donghyuck was safe. And Doyoung was trying to free him.

“How did the vote end up?” 

The question fell flat. Mark couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm about leaving without Donghyuck at his side, filling him with dreams of a better tomorrow.

“Unanimous. As soon as we settle the alternative arrangements, you’ll be free to go,” Taeil said. A small smile worked its way over his mouth. Mark wondered if all people were beautiful when they smiled, like Doyoung and Taeil and Donghyuck. He wondered if he could be beautiful, if he smiled hard enough.

But then his eyes caught on his bloody hands, on the roses strewn around them, on the faint residue of souls still clouding the sky. Mark didn’t deserve to walk free, not after this. If he had been tainted with death before, now he was saturated in its rotten stink. He could never shine clean and bright like Taeil and Doyoung and Donghyuck. 

He’d always been dim, but he felt as if he’d finally flickered out.

“They fought hard for you.” Taeil’s voice was quiet in a way that Mark wasn’t used to hearing, each syllable soft and careful not to break the stillness coating the air.

Mark huffed a dry laugh. “Why?”

Taeil watched him curiously. “Because they love you.”

Now that Mark knew what love felt like, knew how light and airy and sparkling it was, he wondered how it would ever be directed towards himself. He was never meant to be loved, never supposed to deserve such a brilliant emotion. He was only meant to harvest the lives that grew under his feet, and as he shivered under the sheer weight of the death filling his realm, he understood that he couldn’t even do that right.

All of the souls had moved on by now, but Mark would never forget the thick gray air prickling in his lungs, polluted by anguished spirits and ghostly tears. He would always be haunted by the circle of earth surrounding him, bare of blossoms and rendered dark and ugly in their absence.

“Mark!” 

Mark’s heart froze in his chest, his whole body spinning to bask in the sunlight running towards him. He wasn’t sure it had been beating at all since Donghyuck had been taken, and it only resumed its rhythm once he was within the other’s arms, nose pressed into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

Donghyuck’s fingers were tight around Mark, digging into him, and he somehow knew that Donghyuck had ached for him as well. The dull throbbing of Mark’s bruises was nothing compared to the knife that cut into him when he pulled back and saw the tears spilling over Donghyuck’s cheeks, the desperate curl of his lips as he held Mark.

“You came back,” Mark whispered into the small space between them.

A sob broke through Donghyuck’s trembling lips. “Of course I came back, Mark. I promised I’d stay with you, didn’t I?”

He pulled back to frame Mark’s face in his hands, his warm fingers blocking out the chill in the air. Mark found himself lost in his eyes for the millionth time, tracing the shining irises with his gaze, focusing in on the shimmering golden flecks in their warm depths.

“But, how?” Mark’s voice cracked on the word. What had Donghyuck given up for Mark this time? He’d finally broken out of Mark’s realm, what had it taken for him to come back?

Donghyuck stepped back by way of explanation, revealing the group standing behind him. Taeil had shuffled over to stand at the edge, and Doyoung stood near the center, beside a man who shined brighter than anyone. There were twelve in total, and each met Mark’s gaze head on as his eyes wandered over them. 

He prayed that their attention would stay on him, rather than the ruin at his feet, but he knew that the consequences of his weakness would have to be exposed at some point. 

The man in the center cleared his throat. “Hello, Mark. My name is Taeyong, and I’m the leader of the group you see here. We manage the transitioning of souls, a process in which your role is vital.”

Mark’s heart plunged into his stomach. He couldn’t imagine how many problems he must have caused them, what with avoiding his job for days and then picking thousands of roses in a matter of hours. If they had even been considering letting him move on before, he’d completely ruined it now.

“As important as it is, I understand the burden that comes with picking the roses. Like Doyoung, I was once tasked with tending to these fields, though it was nothing like what you’ve had to endure.” Taeyong’s voice cracked, and his pale fingers began to twist over each other. “We could come and go as we pleased, and we never came alone. I cannot possibly put into words how sorry I am to have placed such a heavy burden on your shoulders, and how angry I am at myself for letting this happen to you. I am deeply ashamed to think that I was once a person who could force all of their suffering onto someone else, to selfishly ease my troubles at the cost of another.

I do not expect your forgiveness, Mark, but I hope that you can let us begin to make up for all of the hurt we have caused you. Doyoung has come up with a solution for the care of the fields in your absence, which was just approved by the higher council, and we have made arrangements to bring you up with us whenever you are ready to do so. You’ll never have to see these fields again, unless you wish to.”

There was a small sprout budding at Taeyong’s feet, a bright green shock of life pressing through the aching earth. Maybe it had missed such god-like brilliance, such glorious light after years of Mark’s dim glow.

You’ll never have to see these fields again.

Mark couldn’t remember his life before the roses. He couldn’t imagine a life after them. He’d only heard Doyoung’s vague remarks of life above, and Donghyuck’s scattered anecdotes of his life below. Mark had always been content to linger in the middle.

Or was he just afraid to move on? He’d survived for so long by telling himself that he was fulfilling his duty, that he was living into a purpose. But Doyoung had apparently found some way to replace him.

What happened to people like him, who were purposeless? Did they fade to the background of reality, reduced to meaningless static, ignored by those with somewhere to go, someone to see, something to do?

“Hey.” Donghyuck leaned into Mark’s side, bringing him back to his body. “You alright?”

“If I go, I’ll still be able to see Donghyuck, right? And Doyoung?”

Taeyong blinked, his shoulders straightening a bit. “Of course! We thought you and Donghyuck would want to stay together, and Doyoung—”

“I’ll come see you as much as you’d like,” Doyoung cut in, a promise locked in the words.

Taeyong glanced between them, relief softening his sharp features. “We’d all love to get to know you more, Mark, but we understand completely if you’d rather not. Now, do you think you’re all set to go?” 

“Could I- would it be alright if I stayed, for a bit?” Mark asked, voice trembling. “Just to say goodbye?”

“Of course,” Taeyong replied immediately. “Take as much time as you need, and we’ll be waiting for you whenever you’re ready.”

The others nodded, eyes gentle as they met Mark’s stunned gaze. He let their murmured apologies and soft words of gratitude wash over him. Taeyong gave him a final nod before they turned to Taeil and disappeared into the late morning sun.

Only Doyoung and Donghyuck remained, hanging on the edge of his awareness. 

“I don’t- I don’t really remember anything other than the fields,” Mark confessed, despite both of them being aware.

Donghyuck flashed him a smile, reaching for his hand. “I wasn’t up there long, but from what— your hands!”

Doyoung stepped into Mark’s space at the raw concern in Donghyuck’s voice, joining him in inspecting Mark’s bloody palms. The sting of them was nothing compared to the hot shame coursing through him. He’d hoped they wouldn’t notice, that he could pass off the destruction surrounding them to someone else’s hands.

“They made you do this, didn’t they?” Doyoung asked softly, his touch on Mark’s wrist hesitant, barely there.

Donghyuck’s fingers dug into his other wrist, stamping his warmth onto Mark’s chilled skin. His thumbs rubbed small circles on the thin skin of Mark’s inner arm, and Mark’s blood hummed in his veins. 

“God, I was only gone for a few hours, and all of this happened.” Donghyuck’s eyes were dark, darker than Mark had ever seen them. 

“Please don’t tell them,” Mark pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Doyoung frowned at him.

“Tell them what?” Donghyuck asked, thumb still gently running over Mark’s skin.

“That it was me, that I picked them, that I did all of this!” The tears built up steadily in Mark’s eyes, blurring his vision and shifting his gaze downward to avoid their worried stares. “I swear I didn’t want to, but they took Donghyuck, and he kept hitting me, and I didn’t know what to do anymore.”

“Mark, baby, no.” Donghyuck’s eyes were even darker than before, but there was something soft around the edges as he reached up to tilt Mark’s chin. “None of this was your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mark shook his head, blocking out the words. “No, it’s all ruined, I picked too many, and none of them were even ready! You- you know what that means, how many people I—” 

His words faded into harsh pants, his breaths sticking in his chest at the mere idea of all of the lives he’d snuffed out, all of the futures he’d destroyed. And here he was, a perfect tomorrow resting in his greedy palms.

“Come on, Mark, breathe,” Doyoung instructed him. “In and out, I know you can do it, just in and out.”

 “I’m sorry,” Mark murmured once he’d regained control of his body. 

Doyoung shook his head, and Donghyuck leaned into his side.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Doyoung told him firmly. “And we won’t change our minds about taking you back.”

Mark stared at his feet. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to warrant such unwavering kindness, such all encompassing forgiveness. 

Donghyuck swallowed audibly. “How long were they here?”

He sounded sick, peering at the ugly scar of naked earth surrounding them. 

Mark shrugged. “A while. I think- I think they left around sunrise, but I kept on picking until Taeil came.”

For a moment, Mark was back on his knees, pulling rose after rose from the soil, the earth bleeding with souls and wails tearing through the skies. 

“Come on.” Donghyuck wrapped a firm hand around Marks elbow. “This isn’t what it’s supposed to look like.”

He led them over the crest of the hill, around the dip of the valley, to perch on a different hillside, blooming scarlet in the rich sunlight.

“This,” Donghyuck explained, “is what I first saw, when I came here. It’s probably one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. And it’s all because of you. Thanks to you, the roses can bloom. But now it’s your turn. It’s your turn to be cared for, it’s your turn to bloom.”

Mark stared at Donghyuck, at the way his golden skin shone like sunshine against the sea of blossoms behind him, at the way the breeze ruffled his bangs before trickling through the thorny stems around him. He stared out at the rows of roses, felt the stinging of his palms, remembered the softness of their petals, the ache in his chest.

“Okay,” Mark said simply. 

Donghyuck quirked an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Mark gave one last glance to his fields, but his eyes were drawn right back to Donghyuck. He felt the love simmering in his chest, saw it reflected in Donghyuck’s eyes.

And it was okay. Okay that he had no idea what was ahead of him, okay that he was afraid. He had Donghyuck, now, and he would go anywhere to keep it that way.

Donghyuck beamed, framing Mark’s face in his hands and pecking him on the lips. His touch felt like home, and Mark realized that it would no matter where they were.

“I love you,” he said softly, making sure to meet Donghyuck’s eyes. The other’s smile only grew, and Mark couldn’t help grinning back at him.

“Love you too,” Donghyuck whispered back.

Doyoung coughed pointedly, and Donghyuck giggled at Mark’s flush.

“You guys good to go?”

Mark straightened his shoulders, turning the force of his smile on Doyoung. “I’m ready.”