Yehan had always loved the sun. It was what eased him as a child, the warmth in the ground and the breeze. The smooth heat sunk into his skin, a welcome familiar sensation. Maybe the heat of the sun wasn’t too bad of a way to die. He lay before the sky in a long stretch of sand, warm and soft. It clung to his back, his hair, and his limbs. He was aware he was dying. There was no way he could’ve survived this, the all powerful god known as the sun. It had sent out to destroy him and he had accepted it. How could he not? It was so beautiful. Even if it was painful. Yehan had always loved the sun. There was no better way to die, in his honest opinion, and even in his last breathe under the rays of sunshine, he had no regrets. A/N It turned more into an acceptance of death prompt but I wanted my character to feel at peace in his death :)