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There's boxes in between Gyuvin and where Yujin hangs upside down on Gyuvin’s bed, fidgeting with some figurine he had found while packing.
It's quiet. A cold day, December cozying up to the end of November.
“Are you buying a Christmas tree for your new place?”
Gyuvin hadn't been kicked out. Not really, anyway. His mom had only asked when he'd be moving out and that same week Gunwook's spare bedroom opened up. It was convenient. Gyuvin needs the change anyway.
“Maybe Gunwook has one already.” Gyuvin shrugs, adding another tshirt to his pile of clothes to give away or throw out. He's sure Yujin will take his pick before he even asks.
He still has a little while. Gunwook said his old roommate can't go home for Christmas, so he's staying until New Years. Gyuvin supposes that's a good time to move, and it's nice to spend a last Christmas living with Yujin and his mom.
“Food should be done soon.” Gyuvin says, nodding toward the kitchen. “Go set the table please.”
Yujin nods, climbing off the bed and padding out of the bedroom. Gyuvin can hear the clinking of plates and glasses against the table. With their mom working late, Gyuvin likes to cook more these days. The sun sets earlier and the air gets colder. He likes to enjoy real food with Yujin, not just takeout. It's kinder than the bite of winter, the teeth that leave bruises when Gyuvin sticks his hand out to touch summer again.
Yujin likes it, at least. He's mentioned that it reminds him of their mom's cooking, words that warm Gyuvin enough to last until June.
“What do you want for Christmas?” Yujin asks when Gyuvin comes in, still setting the dishes out.
Gyuvin takes the food off the stove, shrugging. He wants a lot of things, like a new TV for Gunwook's living room or a comfortable pair of shoes for his dance class. Instead, he answers, “To graduate, honestly.”
Yujin laughs, but it trails off as he sits. “Are you gonna…” He taps his fingers against the table, then feigns casualty. “Are you gonna call him?”
Yujin won't like Gyuvin's answer. Gyuvin knows that, and while he'd rather save his breath, he thinks Yujin needs to hear it. There are better things to talk about. Better things to stay up over, and yet.
He raises his gaze then, finding Yujin staring back at him, expectant. He looks less almost nineteen in the light of the kitchen, the shadows of his face shaping his cheeks into the roundness of fourteen again.
“Not this year, Yuj,” Gyuvin tries to lay it on easy. He's lost his appetite, but he takes another bite because Yujin doesn't like eating alone. “He doesn't answer anymore anyway. What's the point?”
“You can still try.” Yujin counters, words sharp, but his expression is gentle. As if he's encouraging Gyuvin rather than telling him off.
“I've tried for a long time.” Gyuvin forces out, standing to collect his dishes for the sink. He doesn't want to talk about this. “It's your turn to wash dishes. I'll be in my room.”
𖠰
Their first winter after college started, Ricky came home for Christmas.
Gyuvin had anticipated a lingering awkwardness. He'd wondered if, instead of dissipating, had the space between them just grown heavier in the months that have passed? Gyuvin realized back then that he'd never have to worry, not when Ricky arrived with an intense eagerness, all shaking hands and bouncing steps.
That was the last time Gyuvin saw Ricky in person. Ricky went back for his second semester and the calls got shorter, the letters fewer. When Gyuvin finished his sophomore year, Ricky stopped reaching out at all.
Gyuvin did try. He was determined to keep hold on them, to not let Ricky slip away like that, but his calls went from being met with four long rings to none at all, the familiar tone to record his voicemail echoing before he even had time to hope. He never left a message. He didn't really see the point, left to assume Ricky wouldn't listen anyway.
He doesn't consider it giving up, not really anyway. He's not giving up on anything he hadn't already lost three or four years ago when Ricky stopped picking up. Gyuvin is just… trying to enjoy the holidays here. In his childhood home with his little brother. Not as a missed call somewhere in L.A.
Yujin helps too, more than he realizes. He's taking a gap year before college, so he has all the time in the world to bother Gyuvin around the house. Gyuvin feels a lot lighter these days, thanks to him.
“I'm already planning what to get Gunwook for his twenty-first,” Yujin says smugly, catching the attention of the others in the room. He's untangling the thirty something feet of lights he wants to string around the tree, focus creasing his features.
“Can I get a hint?” Gunwook asks from the couch and Yujin laughs, leaving him with no answer. Gunwook had come over to “help”, but he's spent the last couple hours leaving the other two to do any decorating.
“What do you want anyway?” Gyuvin hadn't thought to ask. The new year still feels so far away, but it's closing in on him.
Gunwook hesitates and Yujin snickers on Gyuvin's left. “He wants tickets to see Justin.”
“Bieber?” Gyuvin scrunches his face, but his confusion falls on deaf ears when Gunwook reaches over the plastic tub of ornaments to land a smack on Yujin's arm.
“I do not.” Gunwook insists with a huff. “You just want me to get them so you can convince me to take you, which I would not, by the way.”
Gyuvin tries to hide his laugh so as to not be Gunwook's next target, but he's caught anyway. Gunwook's eyes narrow and Gyuvin just barely dodges the couch pillow Gunwook tosses his way.
“Be careful, the tree.” Yujin huffs, yanking the next pillow from Gunwook's hold to put it back on the couch.
Gyuvin sticks his tongue out at Gunwook, who rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to retaliate. It's interrupted by a succession of knocks on the front door, which Gyuvin is quick to tend to. Anything to escape.
Gunwook grumbles something, but Gyuvin pretends to ignore it in favor of dusting glitter off his hands.
“Did you order something?” He asks Yujin, who shrugs and frowns down at the lights. He's not listening, Gyuvin accepts, and goes to the door anyway.
“Hello?” He swings the door open, the word falling flat when his eyes focus on the visitor.
“Hey.” The lone word is cautious, somewhere in between hesitant and nervous. Ricky tightens his coat around his body and avoids Gyuvin's eyes.
Gyuvin opens his mouth to say something, anything, really, but it feels impossible. He only steps to the side when he hears Gunwook yell something about letting the cold air in, and opens the door wider. Ricky takes it as an invitation to step in.
“How are you?” Ricky asks. His voice is soft, muffled slightly by the rustle of his coat sliding off his shoulders.
Gyuvin kind of can't breathe. A part of him isn't sure this is real. “What are you doing here?”
“Gyuvin? Who's there?” Yujin calls from the living room. Gyuvin hears his footsteps before he can tell him to stay there, to give Gyuvin a minute to convince himself he's not hallucinating. He stops just before the hardwood of the foyer. “Ricky?”
Ricky lifts his hand in a wave. “I'm visiting.” He says it like it's obvious, like Gyuvin doesn't actively feel his head coming loose. This doesn't make any sense. Ricky looks between Yujin and Gyuvin, tries for a smile even, but doesn't get a response. “For Christmas?”
Yujin looks at Gyuvin, stuck between who to direct his attention to. Wide eyes fall on Gyuvin. “Did you know?”
“No.” Gyuvin lets out, shaking his head.
Ricky's face falls into a frown. “What? I called your mom.”
“My mom?” Gyuvin asks incredulously, eyes narrowed. “Why would you not call me?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise, at least until I was on the plane. I thought she'd tell you.” Ricky explains slowly. “Are you… are you mad?”
The music Gunwook had put on earlier filters from the living room, reminding Gyuvin of what he's doing, where he's at. He could be having a seriously vivid dream right now.
“No,” He starts, taking in a deep breath. “Uh, I'm just… I don't really know what to say.”
Ricky nods. “Don't feel like you have to let me stay.”
Gyuvin shakes his head, trying to get back into motion. He looks at Yujin, who's stock still. “No, it's fine. Yujin, will you check on the cookies in the oven? I'm sure Ricky has bags he needs help with.”
Yujin nods, hurrying off to the kitchen while Gyuvin slips his coat on. He follows Ricky out the door to a car that sits in front of the house, already covered in snow.
“I'm sorry,” Ricky starts, gloved hands fumbling with his keys.
Gyuvin's face is already red from the cold, the tip of his nose icy. “I've played out all the possible reactions I could have to you coming back here. Now that you're actually back, I just feel kind of confused. Why now?”
Ricky opens the trunk, pulling out two suitcases. “I don't know. I just felt like now was right.”
Now was right. Not four years ago, not two. Right now when Gyuvin finally decided he'd get over it and move on.
He doesn't give Ricky an answer, taking a suitcase and following Ricky back inside. He avoids Gunwook's confused eyes and Yujin lingering in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Sorry,” Gyuvin pushes a few of the boxes out of the way when they enter his bedroom. “I'm moving out soon.”
“Oh.” Ricky sets his suitcase by the door. “Where to?”
“A few blocks from here. Gunwook has an apartment, so I'm gonna crash with him for a while.”
Ricky nods, looking around. “Sounds fun.”
“So,” It's Gyuvin's worst fear. Awkward and tense and bitter on Gyuvin's tongue when he speaks. “You're here.”
“Yeah.” Ricky sits on Gyuvin's bed. “Um, well. I might go to Shanghai next month. They're saying it might snow this winter.”
Gyuvin doesn't sit beside Ricky. It feels too weird, so he sits at his empty desk instead. He only waits for Ricky to continue, unsure what to say.
“I said I wanted to take you there, remember?” Ricky asks. Gyuvin nods back at him. He does remember, actually, but he's not sure he's over his fear of planes. “I thought maybe this winter would be nice.”
“I'll have to see.” Gyuvin says instead of the resounding yes he wants to give. Of course he'll go with Ricky. Ricky is here, close enough to touch. Gyuvin would do anything with him, but doesn't give Ricky the satisfaction of knowing that.
“Okay.” Ricky accepts it, nodding. There's a desperate need to change the topic. Something lighthearted, not as crushing as the millions of unsaid things piled up. “So… you're making cookies?”
𖠰
Gyuvin finds that Ricky really does plan to be here until Christmas, maybe even a little longer. He makes himself at home in Gyuvin's bedroom, even helping him pack more than Yujin ever did.
“I like the blond, by the way,” Gyuvin says as he stacks another box in the corner. “I don't know if I told you that.”
“You didn't.” Ricky grins. “But thanks.”
The new hair color, starkly different from the dark that framed Ricky's face since forever, is one of many changes Gyuvin finds himself noticing.
He doesn't keep himself from looking at Ricky. Gazing, staring, analyzing him everytime he moves or speaks. He's a lot less shameless than before, figuring if he's got a set amount of time before Ricky is off to L.A. again, he'll spend it doing what he wants.
Shame aside, it's still hard to get close to Ricky again. Gyuvin hesitates before telling him things, like stories of Yujin during high-school or why Gyuvin quit four jobs in one summer. He stumbles over his own feet in place of hugging Ricky or holding his hand like he used to, his clinginess replaced with something weird in his chest.
It's hard to swallow, the fact that it's just not the same as before, and there's not much he can do. He tells himself he can rebuild everything, then remembers he might not be able to in time.
Gyuvin lies awake now. Ricky has long since been asleep, barely a foot in between them. Gyuvin stares up at the ceiling, so tired his eyes burn, but he just can't stop thinking.
Time has passed, yeah. Gyuvin can see it in the way Ricky leans back when he laughs, in the way Yujin hesitates to get too close. Gyuvin also sees that time is passing right now. Seconds and minutes and hours are passing and Christmas is in three days and he hasn't done anything. Nothing at all about Ricky's eyes following him or the way he holds Gyuvin when he thinks he's already asleep.
He's not sure he ever will. Maybe it's for the better, not trying to pick up where they left off. Maybe the exchange between their seventeen year old selves is all that will ever be of Gyuvin's feelings for Ricky, even if they're just as prevalent now as four years ago.
Maybe he shouldn't go to Shanghai with Ricky, just like he decided he shouldn't call. It doesn't matter now, he guesses. He should sleep now and maybe a clear answer will come to him in a few days, written out for him so he doesn't have to decide.
Yujin is making breakfast when he wakes up, a welcome surprise when Gyuvin's stomach grumbles before he even gets out of bed.
“Where's Ricky?” Gyuvin takes a seat at the table, head in his hands. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, not fully awake yet.
“Showering, I think,” Yujin flips an egg, then tends to the bacon. “I went out this morning, bought him a couple things. You know, for Christmas.”
Gyuvin smiles, nodding. “That's nice. Only two days, Yujinnie. Any last minute gifts you want?”
“Any last minute gifts you want?” Ricky's voice chimes in from behind Gyuvin.
Yujin claims the free shower before Gyuvin can reply. “Help yourselves. Save me some though!”
Gyuvin stands to put food on his plate, shrugging. “Maybe things for Gunwook's place. Apparently he doesn't have a can opener. Who doesn't have a can opener?”
“Okay,” Ricky pours them juice, listening intently. “Anything else?”
“New shoes,” Gyuvin hums. “Mine are worn out. Maybe a new winter coat.”
Ricky sets the glasses down, looking over at Gyuvin from the table. “Those are things you need, Gyuvin.”
“I want to have the things I need.” Gyuvin scoffs, eating before he even gets to the table.
Ricky isn't accepting it. He's leveled Gyuvin with narrow eyes, lips pulled thin.
Gyuvin lets out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in his chair. “I've got what I want. You're here, aren't you?”
Gyuvin really missed the way Ricky's ears flush red when he's been complimented, his gaze falling to his plate. He tries to cover it with a roll of his eyes, but Gyuvin has already basked in the joy of flustering him.
“Shut up.” Ricky takes a drink of his juice. “Don't be sappy, it's gross.”
“Whatever.” Gyuvin smiles, warmth unconfined from the top of his head all the way down to his fingers, something he hasn't felt in years. It's a feeling exclusive to Ricky's presence.
Gyuvin looks over at the sweater Ricky's put on after his shower, one of Gyuvin's he forgot he even had. The sunlight spills in from the kitchen window onto Ricky's hair, making him golden. It's the perfect image, Gyuvin thinks.
They wash dishes before Yujin trails back in to make his plate, the youngest laying out their plans for the day. They aren't allowed to leave, restricted to the couch to watch Christmas movies or the kitchen to bake something sweet.
Gyuvin's mom comes home early, excitedly greeting Ricky before Yujin and Gyuvin. It's sweet though, and Ricky helps her cut vegetables for dinner.
“Christmas Eve tomorrow,” Gyuvin says, his toothbrush dangling from his mouth. “Are you excited?”
Ricky pushes his hair back with one of Gyuvin's headbands, retrieving a cotton pad and makeup remover. “Of course I'm excited. Don't talk with your mouth full of toothpaste.”
Gyuvin smiles big, showing off all his toothpaste covered teeth. It's gross, but it makes Ricky laugh.
“You're weird,” Ricky complains, shoving Gyuvin's shoulder. “Seriously.”
Gyuvin rinses his mouth, occupying his tongue with the cold water so he doesn't say something stupid. Clean teeth shiny with confessions unsaid.
“Don't take too long.” Gyuvin pats Ricky on his shoulder on his way out of the bathroom.
On Christmas day, Gyuvin actually wakes up before Ricky. He figures he has only a few minutes to bask in the serenity before Yujin is busting the door down.
Gyuvin's clock glares at him from his nightstand, eight-oh-two taunting him. Maybe he could sleep for just a while longer…
“Gyuvin,” Ricky mumbles, blinking up at Gyuvin. “You're awake?”
“Yeah.” Gyuvin whispers, turning to him. “Merry Christmas.”
Ricky squints his eyes, nodding and pulling the blanket further over himself. “Merry Christmas.”
“I say we have at least five minutes before Yujin drags us into the living room.” Gyuvin says and Ricky laughs, muffled against the blanket.
“Let's spend it closing our eyes and being quiet.” Ricky is already halfway back to sleeping.
Gyuvin rolls his eyes, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and into his slippers. The rest of the house is quiet for all of ten minutes before Yujin is pushing Gyuvin’s bedroom door open.
“Mom's making pancakes,” comes out in place of a good morning.
Gyuvin grins over at Yujin. “I'll be there in a minute.”
Yujin turns on his heel as quickly as he barged in, but not without Gyuvin yelling behind him, “Don't eat them all!”
“Hey,” Ricky says from where he's still wound up in the blankets. “Before you open gifts with Yujin, I have something for you.”
“Oh, really?” Gyuvin raises his eyebrows. “For me?”
Ricky's lips fight against a smile. “Nothing special, idiot.”
Gyuvin has to pretend anticipation isn't eating at him when Ricky gets up to retrieve the gift from his suitcase. His heart beats in the back of his throat, but he tries to sit patiently.
“Close your eyes.” Ricky says. The words are soft, almost lost in between where he steps away from the suitcase and Gyuvin sits on the bed.
Gyuvin's eyes fall shut, the eager feeling in his hands only growing.
“Okay,” Ricky says. He sounds nervous, but just as excited as Gyuvin feels. “You can look.”
Gyuvin looks at Ricky first. He's sure there's something to be said about the way Ricky is looking at him, only Gyuvin can't find it. His eyes are sparkling with something akin to hope and Gyuvin feels his heart swell behind his ribs.
There in the palm of Ricky's hand is a heart shaped keychain, red plastic pristine and etched with clear white letters. KGV.
"I thought you might want this back." Ricky says and Gyuvin looks back up from the keychain, awed.
"You remember that?" Gyuvin laughs, taking the keychain. He scrunches his face, "That was so corny of me."
He supposes in the moment, he can't blame teenage Gyuvin for feeling so much all at once. Ricky really did have him, heart laid out and split open to dissect. Except now, it's confined to this little keychain.
Ricky shakes his head, hands now clasped behind his back. "I never thought so. You were so cute back then, you know. I bought one just like this as soon as I moved to California, by the way. Kept it on my keys."
"I love it." Gyuvin closes his fist around it, holding it tight. "Thank you, Ricky."
"Yeah, sure." Ricky shrugs like it's not a big deal. Like Gyuvin isn't seventeen again and on the bank of a creek, sweaty and scared and in love.
“We should go,” Gyuvin says, eyes fixed on his hand where the keychain lies. “Before Yujin comes looking for us.”
Yujin is already sorting gifts when they get to the tree, neat piles where everyone should sit. Ricky's is growing rapidly and a sideways glance tells Gyuvin the sender is unwritten on the name tag. He can only imagine how many are from Yujin, who pointedly avoids their eyes when Gyuvin asks.
Gyuvin thinks he'd like to look at the four of them from somewhere far away. The tree is a little lopsided, and the ornaments aren't evenly dispersed, but Yujin is sitting in front of it like a proud artist and Gyuvin can't find it anything less than endearing.
“Okay,” Gyuvin’s mother is the first to slip away when all the gifts have been opened, “I need to wash dishes.”
“I'll help.” Ricky offers, following her into the kitchen despite her assuring that he really doesn't have to.
Gyuvin might as well clean up the living room, wrapping paper and boxes strewn from wall to wall.
“Hey,” Yujin looks up at Gyuvin from the floor, squinting. “Have you talked to Ricky?”
“About what?” Gyuvin tries cleaning as a distraction, but Yujin isn't having it.
He stares with an unwavering sense of knowing. Like he's figured Gyuvin out ages before Gyuvin ever will.
“You know what.” Yujin rolls his eyes, but Gyuvin doesn't think he's really annoyed. Gyuvin thought he would grow out of the whole pretending not to care thing, but Yujin is still fourteen somewhere in there.
Yeah, Gyuvin guesses he knows. It's not like he can just let Ricky leave again, not without at least the overdue conversation of ‘What are we doing?’
“Stop worrying about me.” Gyuvin deflects. He leans over to tousle Yujin's hair, but Yujin's already swatting at him.
“I'm not worried. Loser.”
Gyuvin doesn't retort. It's Christmas, he doesn't really need to be bickering and Yujin isn't listening anymore anyway.
“Gyuvin?” Ricky calls from where he stands in the doorway to the kitchen, head tilted in question. “Will you come here?”
“What's up?” Gyuvin steps socked feet onto the cold kitchen tile.
“I have something.” Ricky's words fall between them, murmured down toward the floor while he fishes for something in the pocket of his pajama pants.
Knuckles white where he clasps it, Ricky takes a step closer to Gyuvin and holds his arm over his head.
"I thought I should be the one to ask this time." Ricky says. Gyuvin looks up, met with the smallest twig of mistletoe he's ever seen.
He's grinning before he realizes it, looking back at Ricky. "Is that real?"
"No." Ricky smiles bashfully. "I had Yujin cut it off a Christmas decoration he was putting up."
The image of Ricky asking Yujin to do that is stupidly charming. Gyuvin's hands are shaking with the love he's trying to keep in. Ricky's looking at him like he'd be okay with it spilling out of him unabashedly.
“My arm is getting tired,” Ricky complains, but he's smiling. “Will you hurry up and kiss me?”
Gyuvin's thought about it a lot, the shape of Ricky's lips fitting against his. How it would taste, like cherries in the summer or the warmth of the sun by that creek. Anything Gyuvin could have conjured up is nothing compared to having Ricky right here.
Ricky kisses with an urgency not unfamiliar to Gyuvin, with a driving force behind it that's been stirring for years now.
Gyuvin feels himself get pulled closer. Their noses bump together when he tilts his head. It's Ricky's laugh that breaks the kiss, half-suppressed and sweet. "You taste like hot chocolate."
Gyuvin moves his fingers to pinch Ricky's cheek. "Your face is red."
Ricky groans, pushing Gyuvin away. "Go to hell."
"It's cute!" Gyuvin insists, grasping Ricky's wrist so they don't separate too far. "Ricky, I like it."
"Whatever," Ricky grumbles, slipping their hands to intertwine. "I hate you.”
“No you don't.” Gyuvin teases, trying to lessen the space between them. They could mold together and it still wouldn't be close enough, but he supposes this will do for now.
𖠰
The door to Gyuvin's bedroom opens, Ricky's entering like he's expecting Gyuvin to already be sleeping.
Gyuvin can see his expression even in the dark, making out his surprised oh when he looks over to find Gyuvin staring back at him.
“Ricky,” Gyuvin doesn't get up from his spot on the bed, too warm and too tired. He musters just enough energy to hold an arm out, reaching for Ricky. “Come lay down.”
It's not terribly late, but enough for Gyuvin to have to fight against sleep. Ricky had taken Yujin out for the day, just to squeeze in time with him before he flew back to California.
Gyuvin had hoped he'd get a New Year's kiss, but Ricky woefully informed him he'd be leaving just a day too early. Gyuvin wasn't beyond asking him to get a different flight, but he figured he'd save the dramatics this time around.
“I'm coming, hold on.” Gyuvin watches Ricky wander around the room. When he changes his clothes, he shuffles through Gyuvin's closet rather than his overpacked suitcase.
Just when Gyuvin is growing impatient, Ricky climbs into the bed beside him. It's half a second later that Gyuvin is clinging to him, a leg swung over Ricky's hips to settle himself in his lap.
“You're not tired?” Ricky raises his eyebrows. The tips of his fingers are cold where they dip under Gyuvin’s t-shirt, but there’s a heavy comfort in it.
“Not anymore.” Gyuvin shakes his head. “Did you have fun today?”
“Lots. I think I like hanging out with Yujin more than you.”
Gyuvin looks down at him, squinting. “Hey, not funny.”
Ricky laughs, head pressed into the pillow and his hair fanning around his head. Like sunrays maybe. His hands tense where they hold Gyuvin's hips. Gyuvin wishes he would dig his fingers in and take him apart.
And then Ricky is staring up at Gyuvin through his eyelashes, corners of his soft mouth still tugging upwards. Gyuvin wants to taste his smile, then he remembers he can.
He chokes on the giddy feeling, lets it melt over him like sticky sweet syrup. He's nauseous with adoration, rough hands holding Ricky's face like something fragile.
"You're so happy." Ricky notes, just above a whisper. Gyuvin runs his thumb over Ricky's bottom lip, nodding. Ricky laughs and Gyuvin's finger hits his teeth.
"I missed you." Gyuvin murmurs, even if that doesn't really make any sense. Ricky was gone for a day. He's been gone for longer, and yet the day felt endless. Missing Ricky is settled in him. It's a restless thing, an ache somewhere in Gyuvin. He'll miss him even when he's right here.
"Gyuvin?"
"Hm?"
"Won't you come back to L.A. with me?"
Gyuvin gives him a half second of hesitation. "I have to, don't I?"
"Well, not if you don't want to."
Gyuvin shakes his head. They're hurtling towards a future together, one that isn't a dream Gyuvin saves to what if? about. This is something Gyuvin can't part with this time. "No, I have to. I can't be away from you again."
"Okay." Ricky whispers. "We can be together for a long time. We have forever, even."
"Forever isn't long at all." Gyuvin leans down, lips pressing ever so gently against Ricky's. Ricky tilts his head up just as Gyuvin pulls away. There's room for a little less than a breath between them.
Ricky hums, hands tightening on Gyuvin. "I guess so. It's still ours though, isn't it?"
He says it like he really means it, like all the time in the world is theirs to have. To Gyuvin, the words sound like I love you.