J's not pretty in the least and he knows it — not, at least, right now, when he has to be red and blotchy, lower lip jutting out petulantly as is usually the case when he's feeling emotional and doesn't particularly like it. This isn't so bad, admittedly, given the feelings in question, but he still dislikes crying in public, even if there's no one else to see. That doesn't matter, though, nearly as much as the sweetness in S's voice, the closeness of him when he speaks, the gentle understatement of it all. Anything more, and he might burst into tears, feeling horribly fragile. As it is, he's too overcome by too many emotions to make sense of any of it. Alright is about as good a word as he can put to it right now.

He turns, leaning into S, burying his face against S's shoulder for a few moments. He doesn't know what this is now or what it means exactly, if they'll even do this again, but it's a relief somehow, a release, a kind of grief wound through it. The past is so far behind them, but there are parts of it he wants to keep, parts that meant too much to lose, but he'd thought he'd lost them anyway. It's silly, he thinks, when he knows that isn't true in any way that matters, because nothing can take those memories from him now. Even so, it felt so removed, and all he could do was blame himself. Maybe now he can let that part of it go too.

"I'm glad you played for me," he mumbles, frustratingly wobbly, clutching S's leg a little tighter as he steadies himself. Thank you feels wrong, but there's gratitude all the same. "Sihyun-ah..." Sometimes it seems like he'll never run out of reasons to be angry with himself, but at least S is here to help him brush a few away. Tilting his head up, he kisses S's jaw, drawing in a shaky breath, letting out a helpless huff of a laugh. "I feel better. And stupid. But better."