BRIDGES. － a.yt + j.ws

12: cold bones

Wooseok couldn't sleep. His bed was warm, his pillow was soft, and though his eyelids were weighted with exhaustion, the moment he'd blink he'd see the void face of the man he'd met that night; Yuto, smiling so falsely at him beneath the moon's glow.

His guts twisted and jolted, the man's aura somehow having lodged itself into every fibre of his being and now unwilling to let him rest.

Frustrated and tired of his own senseless wondering, he sat up in his bed, ignoring the way it almost petulantly whined, and reached for the letters he'd by then read over dozens of times. Perhaps he could recite them word for word.

His lengthy, bony fingers itched at the nape of his neck and then dragged over his skin, clasping the lean muscle over his collarbone on the right side. Nonchalantly he skimmed through the notes, as he typically did when he couldn't sleep, but doing so offered no help that night and he merely found himself recalling the rest of his first meeting with the writer of said messages.

Yuto was strange, from what he'd perceived thus far. After having their brief conversation, they simply sat in complete silence, Wooseok suffering at the hands of what he took to be awkward tension, and the former utterly calm, unbothered. They sat for a long while, enough that Wooseok's hefty parka could no longer keep him warm and Yuto's own body seemed close to giving in; his lips had then gone pale and blue, every inch of him shivering, yet he stubbornly ignored it and watched the snow as it cascaded around them.

There had been questions Wooseok had been dying to ask since they'd begun talking, and yet no time felt right to speak until he grew far too concerned for Yuto's well-being.

"Let's go," He murmured with a tremulous voice, "We'll both end up as icicles if not."

The added statement brought a humoured huff out of Yuto who nodded, hands quivering so terribly that they could hardly sustain his weight as he pushed himself onto his feet.

Once standing adjacent to one another, Wooseok tucked the lower half of his face behind the high collar of his parka, eyes drifting down to watch as a miniature snowflake landed on his left boot.

"Wooseok."

His name being called for the first time by the other startled him, brought pink to his already cherry-tinted cheeks, and he lifted his head.

"I'm going."

The taller's shoulders minimally sagged, a moment to gather himself and then he was fervently nodding, remaining mute as Yuto offered a lopsided smile and turned away, sneakers leaving their imprint on the hardening snow that dutifully coated the bricks beneath.

He regretted it now, not saying anything. He would have liked to ask the other a handful of questions that then tormented his drained mind, maybe he could have suggested even going to grab something hot to eat together.

It was that idea that seared his insides with a determination unyielding, urging him to visit the tree by the river two nights later and leave a letter of his own taped to it. He couldn't deny the sting of disappointment that sparked at not having found one already there. Perhaps after meeting him Yuto decided he'd rather end whatever connection they had. Wooseok then felt guilty for having forcibly separated the former from his safe haven but, for however small the chances were, he went through with his original mission and left his note pressed to the withering tree's bark.

hey yuto, i'd like to talk with you better. would you like to meet at seo's late-night diner this monday?
[w]

With the note securely tucked within the arms of its envelope, he patted it almost as though for good luck and left it stuck to the tree. Undeniably he had then been anxiously anticipating a reply all through the hours until he could visit again, and once he was finally shrouded in darkness and harassed by the cold temperatures of night, he took off down to the riverside with quick steps once more.

it's alright with me,

Was what he first read upon opening the response letter, permitting him to breathe easy,

tomorrow night then, here. same time as when we first met.
_y

At 10:00? So much for his sleep schedule, he thought with minimally pursed lips.

》》》

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