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The more the earth was stained with death, the more consumed he felt inside.
As the war became more prolonged, it was to be expected that morale would dim. There was bloodshed every day, and the news of more cultists on the rise made it so that even sleeping was nearly impossible. Chung Myung, who nearly all of Kangho looked towards as their only hope in this hell, bore the brunt of their expectations.
He had difficulty sleeping at night. Each time he would close his eyes to rest, images of his fallen brothers would resurface in his mind. Lives cut short, that should have long gone on living. His incompetence had stolen that right from them. He felt weighed down, fatigue overtaking him. But he couldn't sleep. His guilt wouldn't let him.
This was one of those nights. Where everything was silent, except for his own breathing and the occasional rustle of the tent from wind. He laid in silence, facing the wall of the tent. He looked to the side at the sound of movement.
Tang Bo was there by his side, fast asleep. With a shortage of supplies and an increase of wounded, many had to give up their tent and share with others. When he and Tang Bo had agreed to share a tent, no one questioned it. They were the Twin Saints, after all. Where one goes, the other follows.
He looked away, laying on his side again and faced away from Tang Bo. He closed his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time, and hoped he'd be able to forget everything, just for a night.
---
He couldn't move his limbs, nor think clearly even though he knew he was awake. It felt as if he was sinking and being submerged in deep water. His eyes were cracked open. He could make out his surroundings. He was still in the tent.
He tried moving his limbs again, trying to gain a sense of stability. But it was as though he was paralyzed. The tent around him suddenly warped. Loud sounds rang in his ears, resembling voices and shouts. He didn't recognize any of them. He tried reaching his hand out.
Everything went quiet. In an instant, he was in control of his body again, sounds of his heavy breathing filled the tent. He was about to sit up when he heard another voice, although muffled.
"Hyung?"
Chung Myung jumped at the sudden sound, and turned to look behind him. There was Tang Bo, his hand reached out halfway to him in midair. A worried expression forming on his face.
"What's wrong? Why are you breathing so heavily?" He focused on Chung Myung's appearance, noticing his face pale and disoriented. Tang Bo frowned.
Chung Myung opened and closed his mouth, hesitant to answer. He turned back around, muttering, "It's nothing. Just dreams." He closed his eyes again, willing himself to sleep.
Tang Bo watched Chung Myung, his brows furrowing as he saw the subtle shaking in his limbs. He reached his hand out again, it reaching him this time. It landed gently on his arm, before moving down and grabbing the blanket, pulling it up over Chung Myung's shoulders.
Seeing that Chung Myung had no reaction, he used his own blanket and draped it over Chung Myung as well. He knew the shaking wasn't from the cold, yet still did so.
He kept his hand over his arm, reluctant to let go. Only when he felt Chung Myung relax did he shift his body over to be right behind him. He lowered his arm, wrapping it around Chung Myung's shoulder and chest. He pulled him closer to himself, slipping his other arm under Chung Myung's neck.
Chung Myung didn't resist the touch, instead finding himself at ease with the increasing warmth. The weight on his chest was replaced by a different kind of weight, one that instead comforted him rather than suffocated him.
For the first time in a long time, he didn't have to force himself to sleep. His eyelids grew heavy, as his thoughts slowed down and drifted off.
---
He flinched, as a small waft of wind brushed against his eyelids. His eyes slowly cracked open, gradually focusing on his surroundings. All he could see was dark brown.
"Pfft--!" Chung Myung spat, yanking out a strand of brown hair from his mouth. He was fully awake now. He raised his head and locked eyes with green ones that were staring back at him.
"Ah..." Tang Bo gasped lightly. Then awkwardly laughed as if he'd been caught in an act. "Did I wake you?" He retrieved his hand from where it had been resting in Chung Myung's hair.
They both stared at each other, before Chung Myung tore his eyes away and surveyed their situation. They were now facing each other, one arm draped over Tang Bo with their legs intertwined together. He was being cradled in Tang Bo's arms.
"..." Said Chung Myung.
"...?" Said Tang Bo.
'Why is he still awake?' Chung Myung couldn't help but think.
He turned his gaze towards the gap in the tent entrance, noticing that it was still dark outside. His eyes moved back to Tang Bo. All embarrassment he felt melted away, fatigue seeping in to take its place. He closed his heavy eyelids and buried his face in Tang Bo's chest. Sleep overtook him once again.
Tang Bo was taken aback by his actions. But looking at the tired but peaceful face in his arms, he sighed and tightened his hold. Letting his chin rest atop Chung Myung's head, he took and caressed a lock of tangled black hair. Warm breaths landed on his neck, as Chung Myung's nose rested against his collarbone. He suddenly felt tense. Wasn't it he who first initiated physical contact?
Feeling the warmth of the person in his arms, the beating of his chest against his own, he smiled gently as he buried his face into Chung Myung's hair. He soon drifted off to sleep as well, their breathing in sync.
.
.
.
Chung Myung wrapped his arms around himself as he laid alone in his bed, the moon still high in the sky outside. Moonlight shone down on him through his window. It was still a long time until the sun rose and morning came to Mount Hua.
No matter how many times he tried clearing his head, and no matter how many blankets he layered upon himself, he couldn't make himself fall asleep.
It was silent, with the occasional sound of plum blossom trees swaying in the wind. Silent enough to leave him alone with his thoughts.
It was one of those nights again.
.
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