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Summary
“I heard you die.”
“You heard someone die,” Inho replies.Gihun pulled something out of Hwang Inho: Purposeless hope that glowed still and orange against the pale planes of his face.
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Bookmark Notes:
Gihun sleeps curled in on himself. It makes him look smaller, younger. A fawn. It’s all he is – his soul. Glass and bones and white-hot resolve. If Inho reaches out, he’s cold to the touch. Hopeful yet. Goodness resolute. Innocent , Inho thinks. After all this time, still. Pure.
Inho would go back if Gihun wanted him to.
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Oh my gyatt
