***

Without even knowing the full meaning of the word and what it encompasses, Seonghwa grieves.

At first, it's a sinking feeling on his chest, weighty and draining as he sobs and sobs until he can't bring himself to anymore. Then he's drowning as he watches the skies get dimmer, unable to cry but unable to feel any other emotion either.

In fact, Seonghwa feels as though he'll no longer be able to feel any semblance of happiness again after those difficult first two days spent at his home, pondering again and again about Hongjoong's whereabouts and if he's safe or not.

His parents' insistence on keeping him inside makes everything a million times worse too, even with every type of excuse or protest he gives. They ignore his cries and questions, resorting to locking him in his room to prevent him from leaving and finding out if his best friend is okay.

By the fourth day, Seonghwa feels nothing more than a hollow shell of himself, worrying himself silly over Hongjoong. The boy's mother had just died. Seonghwa can't even begin to imagine how the younger and his brother must be feeling.

He doesn't even know if Hongjoong is alive...

Seonghwa never lets his thoughts stray further than that, because he doesn't know how he'll live without Hongjoong by his side. Doesn't know how he'll survive.

But with every day that passes with Seonghwa not having the opportunity to check if Hongjoong is even alright -- to know where he is at the moment -- the possibility of seeing Hongjoong again grows exceedingly bleaker.

"Seonghwa, you should eat," Shinhye tells him after the fifth day, when the sun has finally settled and the crescent moon glimmers in the night sky like a curved claw. In her arms holds a tray of food, each bowl containing a dish that Seonghwa would've enjoyed if this had been any other situation.

At the sight of them and of his sister's sympathetic face, Seonghwa sniffles and turns away, wrapping his arms around his bent legs.

"Seonghwa..." Shinhye tries again. She shuffles closer, before placing the tray on the small, rounded table beside his bed. "I know you don't feel like it, but you should not stay hungry."

"I'm not hungry," Seonghwa argues, his voice coming out small and weak. His throat feels strained, struggling against the consonants he's trying to form. "I'm really not."

"You haven't eaten a thing since morning," Shinhye says. "All you've been doing is hiding away in your room and avoiding everyone. It's not good for you."

The dull ache in Seonghwa's chest abruptly worsens, and he gasps, coughing out loud. But when Shinhye reaches out to help him, he stops her. "Leave."

"No, I will not."

"It was not a question," Seonghwa rasps, clinging more firmly to himself. Maybe if he tries hard enough, he can wake up from this nightmare and meet Hongjoong and his family again. Maybe Hongjoong's mother will still be alive, and maybe he won't have to spend every waking second wondering if his best friend is dead or not.

"I need to you to leave," Seonghwa repeats. "Right now."

"No." Shinhye grabs his hands, cupping them in hers. Seonghwa can count on one hand how many times she'd done that in the past, and that was almost always to comfort him in one way or the other. Her palms her warm, melting away some of the ice splintering his chest. "I'm not leaving until you at least take a bite."

"I -- I can't," Seonghwa tells her, his voice finally cracking. He feels like scattered glass, knocked into smithereens with unsalvageable pieces. He doesn't ever think he can be repaired or fixed again. "I can't eat or drink anything when Hongjoong's out there, scared and alone. I can't sleep not knowing whether he's safe and secure or not. I can't bear to lose him, Shinhye. I really can't."

His older sister exhales a tired sigh, but her eyes are sincere, misty with understanding. "Do you..." she pauses, squeezing Seonghwa's quivering fingers, "do you think he is still alive out there?"

Seonghwa nods, quicker than lightning even when a speckle of doubt pokes his insides. He doesn't want to believe anything other than Hongjoong being well, and that is what he'll choose to believe in for as long as the world lets him. "I-I do. Hongjoong isn't -- he isn't dead."

Shinhye's expression tightens, transforming into one of utmost determination. She rises to her feet, and Seonghwa can only watch as she marches towards his wardrobe, lithe fingerings lingering on the twisted knobs.

She meets his eye. "Then let's look for him."

***

Seonghwa keeps himself as silent as he realistically can as he and Shinhye descend out the backdoor, embracing the crisp night air. The skies are pitch black, darker than both their cloaks as they trek across the clearing, ducking past the two guards keeping watch at the front.

Seonghwa had been more than shocked at Shinhye's willingness to look for his friend with him -- especially after several events of her abiding by the rules in the past -- but he didn't mind it in the slightest. He needed all the help he could get, and now he can only hope the search for Hongjoong will turn out to be a success.

The area is quiet. Crickets skitter all through the forest, their chirps intermingling with the occasional rustle of the trees.

Shinhye keeps her dagger unsheathed and the shining lantern in her hand upright, acting as a potential shield for her younger brother incase something comes staggering out of the shadows.

Seonghwa appreciates it.

He leads the way to Hongjoong's house, climbing over jagged rocks and overgrown thistles -- just as he always does -- and doesn't ever stop moving until the younger's cottage appears a meter away, bare and desolate and teeming with unsettling gloom.

Seonghwa feels his eyes sting with unshed tears, and when Shinhye grasps his shoulder, the first one falls.

"I need -- " Seonghwa inhales, the cold air harsh on his wet cheeks, "I need to head inside and search for him. I-I need to know if -- if he's hiding there, at least."

Shinhye nods. "I'll follow after you."

Seonghwa soon pushes his way into the cottage, finding the insides completely untouched and unlit. It looks the same as it did months ago when he'd last been here, but all its warmth and coziness has been wiped off. The place feels lifeless, like it hadn't been inhabited in a while.

Trampling over the discomfort he starts to feel, Seonghwa trudges down the stone steps and goes straight for the one door he sees, pushing it open with a thwack.

Hongjoong's bed is still there, along with the small cupboard he'd stored a few books and all the quills Seonghwa had given to him over the years.

But there's no Hongjoong. And even when Seonghwa had expected this outcome, it feels every bit as disappointing at heartwrenching as it felt earlier when Seonghwa was on his bed, thinking about how his friend was going to find shelter for the night.

"I'm sorry..." Shinhye speaks behind her brother, her lantern illuminating the little room.

Seonghwa doesn't bother to answer. What good will it do when it won't change anything?

They hike back to their home minutes after, no words exchanged for more than half of the duration.

They make it to the edge of the forest with little problems until Shinhye suddenly halts, her hand on her hilt.

Seonghwa lifts the lantern in his hold, the beaming light clarifying his sister's knitted brows and alert eyes. She presses a finger to her lips, quietly unfurling the sharp dagger.

To the right, the vast olive green leaves tousle about, and then the recognizable crack of a broken twig slices through the air.

Seonghwa straightens, Shinhye taking her place before him when a silhouette limps out of the flora, knees scraping over their rough roots.

The person pants, their short limbs noticeably bony and weak. They struggle to hold themselves up, looking close to giving up altogether.

Something compels Seonghwa to raise the lantern despite his fear, its halo spilling over the stranger.

They look up, almond eyes wide beneath a head of wild, blond hair. Their skin is tanned and taunt, with hollowed out cheekbones and chapped lips. They swallow thickly and avert their gaze, ashamed.

It's a boy, Seonghwa thinks, and then it hits him.

Almost dropping the lantern, he pushes past his sister and runs until he's right in front of the blond boy.

"Seonghwa, what are you doing?" Shinhye questions, tone dripping with unease.

Seonghwa whimpers, crouching at the boy's feet. "Hongjoong?"

Round eyes lift up to meet his again, as innocent as a doe's. His plump lips quaver but he bites on it, holding back his tears.

"Seong...Seonghwa," Hongjoong whispers, voice scarily thin and fragile.

Seonghwa doesn't even wait to hug him close, because Hongjoong is here again. Hongjoong is alive and breathing and he came back for him. He came back.

Hongjoong returns the hug with just as much vigour, hands fisting Seonghwa's clothes so tightly they form indents on the material. But none of them mind, not when they've finally been reunited again.

***

Despite the confusion and carefully restrained apprehension in her eyes, Shinhye guides all three of them back into their home without getting caught or witnessed.

"No one can ever know you're here," she tells Hongjoong, her eyes racking over his distressed form and very apparent physical changes. She doesn't acknowledge it, however.

Seonghwa keeps his and Hongjoong's hands entwined. "Where can he go? I won't leave him outside."

"Fortunately, there's a bunker that's been unoccupied and unused for ages," Shinhye explains, keeping her voice hushed. She waves Seonghwa and Hongjoong down two sets of halls, walking along until they come across a violet rug that couldn't be more than three feet long.

Shinhye flips it to the side, revealing a trapdoor.

They don't utter a peep as Shinhye slides open the door, a myriad of stairs quickly greeting them.

She enters first, switching on the lantern, and ushers both Seonghwa and Hongjoong inside.

The steps lead into what appears like a typical room, only it's smaller, with oakwood walls and dusted with a few cobwebs.

"I heard this room was used to store herbs before," Shinhye tells them, pursing her lips, "but now it's been neglected and forgotten about. I can help Hongjoong get a comfortable enough mattress here to sleep."

Seonghwa nods, casting Hongjoong a glance. In the light, the younger's hair is even brighter -- the colour of fresh lemons -- and Seonghwa notices the little mole below his left eye. His clothes are more like rags with how torn and old they appear, and his hands are jittery, streaked with dirt and grime.

It hurts Seonghwa to see.

"I will help draw you a bath," he tells Hongjoong, to which the younger immediately shakes his head at.

"No -- no it's okay." Hongjoong inhales a deep breath. "I-I can't let -- let you guys get in t-trouble because of me."

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa pleads with his best friend. "Please, please let us get you washed up. You've been out for so long, and your clothes..."

"It's fine. I will just sleep here for the night," Hongjoong answers, shaking his head. He keeps shivering, keeps looking at the floor.

It saddens Seonghwa to witness, because here isn't even extremely cold in the first place.

He looks to Shinhye for some help.

Shinhye chews her lip in thought, numerous opposing thoughts flashing in her eyes. Seonghwa hopes the one that'll help him reason with Hongjoong ends up winning.

"...Hongjoong," she says, slow and careful. "My room is the closest to this place. I don't let the maids draw my baths, so you can always use it at nights like these. I'll make sure you aren't seen. And Seonghwa," she looks at her brother, "you should get him a change of clothes to sleep."

Whilst Hongjoong looks stunned, close to collapsing in on himself, Seonghwa thanks his older sister for his sake.

And so they begin.

Shinhye locks the door to her chambers as Seonghwa helps Hongjoong to the bathing tub. The younger doesn't move as soon as he's inside, as still as an inanimate object as the warm water reaches up to his chest.

"Hey," Seonghwa leans in, washing off the marks on Hongjoong's arms with soap at first since the younger is much too frail to do so himself. "It's going to be alright."

"I haven't -- I haven't been able to bathe like this in so long..." Hongjoong hiccups, eyes glistening.

Seonghwa feels like crying too, but keeps his composure. He needs to be strong for the both of them. "But you're doing it now, aren't you? You're having a nice, hot bath, and I'm going to make sure you're all cleaned up. I'm going to make sure you're warmed up for the night."

He lathers up Hongjoong's chest and back with soap, ridding his skin of all the blemishes tainting them without causing the younger an ounce of pain. Hongjoong shudders under his touch, posture closed off and ashamed, but he lets Seonghwa continue.

I'm sorry you had to go through all this. I'm sorry this happened to your family. A lump forms in Seonghwa's throat but he chooses to leave it ignored, scrubbing until only the dark swirls lining the younger's back like tattoos remain.

Seonghwa stares at them for a second, thumb gliding across the marks before he can stop himself.

Hongjoong's breath hitches. "Hwa?"

It's the first time Hongjoong's ever called him that, and before he knows it, Seonghwa is smiling.

"Hm?"

"Thank you. A-And your sister too, I need to thank her."

"No worries." Seonghwa wants to ask Hongjoong to call him 'Hwa' again, but decides against it because it's a strange question to ask.

Hongjoong is pretty.

It's what Seonghwa thinks after the younger's all dried up and donned in one of Seonghwa's night dresses. The deep purple stands out against his tawny skin and pale, curly blond locks, and when he meets Seonghwa's gaze, he bashfully looks away.

But then again, Hongjoong has always been pretty.

True to his word, Hongjoong displays his gratitude to Shinhye when they all meet, which she light-heartedly just waves off.

"You two will stay at the bunker while I try to bring something to eat," she says.

Hongjoong's eyes widen. "Oh no, I can't -- "

"It's okay," Seonghwa tells him -- reassures him. He folds his fingers over Hongjoong's and squeezes, hoping it's more than enough to wash his worries away.

And judging by how Hongjoong's shoulders relax right after, it works.

They get a mattress that's more like a bag stuffed with wool into the room, lengthy enough to fit Hongjoong's smaller body.

Seonghwa pulls along two of his many blankets and assures that Hongjoong is comfortably rested until he sits beside the younger, awaiting his older sister's arrival.

There's silence for a few prolonged seconds, filled by the flicker of the lantern stationed at the corner. Hongjoong soon shatters it.

"I..." his fair lashes flutter as he blinks. He doesn't look Seonghwa in the eye. "I had been looking for you...but you found me."

Seonghwa grins, despite all the fear and pain. "We found each other."

Hongjoong chuckles. "Yes." He clamps a fist over his mouth, and it quickly dawns on Seonghwa that the younger boy is trying to hold back his tears.

"Joongie," Seonghwa whispers, stroking Hongjoong's temple. "Don't cry. Please don't cry."

"I-It's all my fault," Hongjoong stammers, moisture pooling at the corners of his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. "I -- I was the one who told mama and Sungjong I wanted to go see the town. I-I was the one who s-said I wanted to leave the house for a bit."

Hongjoong's tears dampen Seonghwa's vest when Seonghwa holds him close, but that is the least of the older's worries.

"It's not your fault," Seonghwa refutes, because he'll never allow Hongjoong to blame himself for something so horrid. Never. "So don't say that again. Please..."

Hongjoong sobs even harder, clinging onto Seonghwa for dear life. "Someone -- someone with a group of men s-saw us, said he knew what we were. T-They took us, b-but Sungjong helped me to escape. He g-got out too, but -- but he got injured by the weapons. I-I don't even know what happened to mama." Hongjoong inhales a quick, rugged breath. "Sungjong and I -- we had to make it b-back to Empyrea, b-but he was too weak and t-tired -- "

Seonghwa's heart breaks at the broken sound Hongjoong emits right then. He keeps telling the younger it's fine, keeps telling the younger that he's okay and that he's alright now as Hongjoong continues to disintegrate before his very eyes.

"I-I walked around for weeks, didn't even know where I was going anymore. Those nights were so cold, Seonghwa. So cold." Hongjoong tells him, looking absolutely destroyed on the inside. "A-And then I had a dream -- or at least I thought I had. The boy had blond hair. Wooyoung. He -- he was racing with his friends to the river. I-It was his birthday, Seonghwa, a-and I -- I took him."

Tears erupt in Seonghwa's eyes like he's experiencing Hongjoong's pain right with him. "It's not your fault," he says once more, running his fingers through the younger's silky hair.

"I'm a m-monster," Hongjoong sniffs.

"If you were really a monster, why would I remain your friend?" Seonghwa runs his thumb across the younger's cheekbone. "Why would I still enjoy your company and care for you? I'd never associate myself with a monster, you know that."

Hongjoong sniffs again and flashes a watery smile, huffing out a tiny chuckle. "...Seonghwa?"

Seonghwa gets the urge to poke his nose. "Hm?"

Shinhye returns. She's brought a tray of food and a jug of water, and says nothing about the two boys' position on the bed.

Hongjoong untangles himself from Seonghwa and thanks his sister repeatedly, bowing his head to show his respect.

"Come on, she doesn't need all that," Seonghwa says.

"Don't be crass with me, brother," Shinhye warns, and then gives Hongjoong's shoulder a firm, but friendly pat. "And you're welcome. You're also much nicer than Seonghwa, that's for sure."

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, taking to setting up the food for his friend.

"We should leave now," Shinhye states, eyeing Hongjoong's features a bit warily. "Get some sleep as Hongjoong eats."

Seonghwa scoots closer. "I'm staying with him."

"Seonghwa," Shinhye presses. "You have to be in bed before tomorrow."

"Then I'll be in bed before tomorrow." Seonghwa pours the jug of water into a cup.

Hongjoong panics. "Hwa, I can't let you -- "

"I'm staying with you until you're done with your food, and that's final," Seonghwa says, looking at the both of them.

Shinhye sighs, but she soon surrenders. "Alright. I'll put something up that won't draw attention to this place. Goodnight to you two."

Seonghwa watches her ascend, and when he looks at Hongjoong, he's surprised to see the frown on his face. "Something the matter?"

"I don't want you fighting with your sister because of me."

"I wasn't fighting with her. She just wants me to be safe -- wants us to be safe. And we will be, I promise you," Seonghwa answers. He takes a spoonful of rice, adding a bit of chicken to it. "Can you take a bite for me?"

Hongjoong slowly nods, and does as he asks. Seonghwa's never known of a day Hongjoong's ever objected to his requests, and it makes his heart warm, because he does the same too.

That night, Seonghwa decides not to tell Hongjoong about his mother.

***

The arrangement goes by uninterrupted for the next month, something Seonghwa and Shinhye worked hard towards.

They'd take turns giving Hongjoong food and making sure he goes unseen and unheard of, so when Seonghwa has his lessons Shinhye would meet with the boy, and vice versa.

The best times of the day are ultimately when Seonghwa gets to see Hongjoong at his bunker, the younger scribbling in drawings or reading over the books Seonghwa had gifted to him over the time period. Hongjoong would look up at him through flowy blond hair, and smile, and all of Seonghwa's doubts and worries would fade.

Things don't seem as scary when I'm with you.

***

"You know what father said at breakfast, right?" Shinhye says. The silver of her dagger glints sharply under the clear blue sky and the long, wispy clouds drifting across its canvas.

They're in the woods with worn trees that form a canopy above them, their scraggly branches drenched in luminous snow.

Seonghwa stares at his own weapon, a gladius with a deep red hilt, and his jaw sets. "I am aware."

Seonghwa was at the table when his father discussed with his mother and older siblings about the King's urgency in eradicating the entire kingdom and the neighbouring villages of Reapers, the name he called people like Hongjoong.

"The King of Adora plans on issuing a search through all the towns since he thinks people are hiding them," Shinhye continues, her tone turning graver. More dire.

"I'm not giving Hongjoong up. I'm not turning him in."

"I never said anything about you doing that," Shinhye tells Seonghwa. "You know father made it clear he wants to meet with the King and get him to change his mind about this village. He wants to take a stand against the King's order. So we need to be prepared for the worst."

Seonghwa's chest tightens so much that it's painful, his breathing getting more laboured. "That's why you brought me here today."

"Yes." Shinhye smiles, but it makes no lasting impact on Seonghwa's mood. "I know you don't like fighting, and I know you especially hate dealing with weapons, but you need to fight with me from now on, even when you attend sword practice."

"I can't..." Seonghwa bites his lip. "Hongjoong -- "

"Hongjoong will thank you for being able to protect, and fight for him," his sister says. She pauses, and then rushes towards Seonghwa, her dagger drawn.

On instinct, Seonghwa blocks her blow, metal screeching against metal.

Shinhye casts him a content smirk. "Glad to see some of your lessons have paid off, brother."

Hongjoong will thank you for being able to protect, and fight for him.

Seonghwa won't let himself forget this.

***

It's after midnight a week later; the halls are quiet and empty, and no one is in sight.

The air stills, as if it's holding its breath, and Seonghwa gets up on his tiptoes, grabbing his lantern and making his way for the trapdoor.

He isn't supposed to be doing this tonight, in fact he's already had the opportunity to talk with Hongjoong hours earlier.

But Seonghwa remembers the nightmares Hongjoong used to tell him about. It drives him insane with worry, so now he's back, just to conclude that the younger boy is indeed okay.

Because he cares for him, and Hongjoong is his best friend.

Hongjoong's skin is soft beneath the pads of Seonghwa's fingers when he touches his cheek. And when Hongjoong's eyes peel open, lashes fluttering, Seonghwa grins down at him.

"Seonghwa?" Hongjoong blinks, looking around the vicinity before meeting the older's gaze again. His voice is soft. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see if you're alright." Seonghwa places the lantern on the floor and rests beside Hongjoong, facing him. "And you are."

Hongjoong's eyes are dark, but they still glitter. "You can get in trouble."

"I won't," the older shakes his head. "I'm not. I just want to spend a few minutes more with you."

Hongjoong licks his lips, and chuckles a little. "You must really miss me, Park."

Seonghwa playfully tugs at one of Hongjoong's blond strands of hair. "Always. ...I always do."

"...I do too," Hongjoong answers after a few seconds of them staring at each other. "Always. Even in my dreams when I see you, I still miss you."

"You see me in your dreams?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"I like that." Seonghwa smiles.

They stay noiseless for some time -- just staring at each other -- and it's time Seonghwa savors, because every second spent with Hongjoong is worth it.

"I'm sorry." Hongjoong suddenly blurts. "I'm sorry my face keeps changing and -- and I'm sorry I'm such a hassle to you and your family."

"You're not a hassle. And I don't care if you look different, I already said that. You're still you; I would recognize you in the dark." Seonghwa leans his head on Hongjoong's chest, feeling the faint thump of his heartbeat. "I will always recognize you."

I will always know your name.

Hongjoong's hand lingers at Seonghwa's neck, shy at first, and then he's caressing his hair, fingers raking into the thick, black tresses.

Seonghwa feels his eyes close, wanting more of this.

Footsteps thud over them right then, gaining their attention. They spring apart and rise to their feet, alert and apprehensive.

Seonghwa makes a motion for them to be quiet, swiping the lantern up to the closed opening of the trapdoor.

The footsteps don't stop. In fact, they seem to increase in number, storming past the roof of the room and not acknowledging them at all.

Hongjoong's eyes are wide in the dim lighting, reflecting off confusion. Seonghwa's confused too.

There are voices now too. Lots of them. They get higher in decibel with each passing moment, loud and chaotic.

The sound of metals crashing against the other pierces through, and someone screams.

Seonghwa's heart drops as the wails keep coming, seeping past the wooden walls of the bunker.

"S-Seonghwa..." Hongjoong utters next to him, pure terror stitched into his expression.

"We're not going anywhere," Seonghwa speaks over all the noise, all the screaming and crying and thumping. He's trembling, fear ravaging his insides like wildfire, but he has to stay strong. "Nothing -- nothing will happen to us here."

"But -- but your family..."

"I know." Hot tears spring to Seonghwa's eyes, but they never make their way down. His grip on the lantern only hardens. "I know."

The two boys startle when the trapdoor abruptly slides open, the disquiet and pure chaos outside shattering the last bit of their haven.

In the dark, Seonghwa can make out the outline of his sister's face.

"You both will stay here until things settle," Shinhye tells them, but her distraught eyes speak volumes of the level of destruction happening outside these doors.

She throws something to Seonghwa's feet. His gladius. "This is incase you need to defend yourself and Hongjoong. You remember what you've been taught, right?"

"I-I do," Seonghwa tells her.

"I'll see you two later." Shinhye makes a move to shut the door.

"Shinhye!"

She pauses, peering down at her brother.

"Please stay safe. You, Suho, and my parents." Seonghwa's bottom lip quivers. "Please stay safe."

Shinhye smiles at him, eyes twinkling with affection. "We will."

The door slams shut.

Seonghwa doesn't realize he's crying until Hongjoong hugs him, wiping off his tears.

What will I do without them? Are words Seonghwa wants to say but can't, and Hongjoong knows. He's always been able to.

***

Empyrea is in flames before dawn falls, burnt to nothing but ashes and ruins.

Seonghwa takes him and Hongjoong out of there for the last time.

Your father, I, Suho and Shinhye, we're your family. His mother's voice rings in his ears as they run into the forest, further and further away from the village. Further and further away from home. That boy you keep seeing is not. Why do you care so much for him?

Because Hongjoong is Seonghwa's family, too. A bond not formed by blood, but something far stronger and unbreakable.

***

The sun is blinding against the morning sky, exuberant trails of wind whisking past the browning autumn leaves and plains of farmland.

Seonghwa pulls off his gloves and wipes off the slight sweat coating his brow, but he's satisfied as he wheels the cart of crops he's harvested into the barn.

Having been used to this for three years already, Seonghwa diligently works on drying them so they can be stored with the rest of the gathered crops. As he does this, he hears a familiar yap, and he turns, a white and brown spaniel colliding with his ankles.

Seonghwa laughs and crouches, ruffling behind the excited dog's ears. "Dandan, goodmorning!"

"Greeting the dog before greeting me, I see," an older woman drawls, her voice gaining Seonghwa's attention.

"Oh no," his eyes enlarge, "I -- "

"I am joking, dear," Yeon chuckles, hand gripping onto her cane. Her aged eyes crinkle at the edges. The grey haired woman had been more than open to giving Seonghwa and Hongjoong a place to stay on account that they helped her around her farm whenever they could.

She never asked much questions about who their family was and where they'd came from, and she acted as the mother figure both boys desperately needed and appreciated.

Relief washes over Seonghwa's body as he rises up, having to look down at the woman once he does due to Yeon being quite petite in size. It doesn't help that Seonghwa's grown considerably in height since he first came here, his body more lean and built after years of planting crops and ridding the farm of weeds.

"Can you bend a little? I'm tired of having to look up at you," Yeon teases.

"Sorry, miss."

Yeon waves him off with a smile. "You've been working hard all morning, and I think Hongjoong has too. Lunch is ready."

"There are still things to do -- "

"I will finish them later," Yeon cuts in. "Go get Hongjoong and meet me in the kitchen, alright?"

Seonghwa nods. He's still aching to complete his work for the morning, but listens to her.

The stables are located a minute's walk away from the rest of the barn, and soon enough Seonghwa enters, smiling at the first two horses he spots, the animals lazily munching on the hay and vegetables in their stalls.

"Hongjoong?" Seonghwa voices out, stepping deeper into the clearing.

A horse neighs at the left, and a scuffing of hooves can be heard. Seonghwa walks into the stall and sees Hongjoong seated cross-legged across Treasure, the young mare quietly nibbling on its meal. The blond teen is currently stroking its shimmery caramel coat, an enamoured smile on his rosy lips.

"Hongjoong." Seonghwa pretends he's mad. "Get your butt up and let us go for lunch."

Hongjoong turns to look at him, and almost immediately, his entire face brightens. "Hwa! You're here!"

"Yes. And leave that poor horse alone."

"Treasure loves me."

Said horse huffs, as if disagreeing with Hongjoong's statement.

Seonghwa laughs. "I'm positively sure that sound is one of disapproval."

"It is not," Hongjoong argues, standing up. "Miss Yeon says it'll take some time to get Treasure to let me ride her properly, but I'm sure that time will come soon enough."

Seonghwa can't help but grin at this. Hongjoong's excitement whenever he tends to the horses at the stables is contagious, and no matter how tired and weary Seonghwa gets after a full day of harvesting -- and when thoughts about his family start plaguing his mind -- he hears Hongjoong talk about them and his mood gets a boost.

"Yes, yes," Seonghwa pats the younger's back, feeling the muscle underneath. Like Seonghwa, Hongjoong's body had fully adjusted itself to the busy farm schedule, the two males eating like grown men at every catering hour. "Let's go to the kitchen. And after, you're taking a bath because you stink."

"You stink too."

"Everyone knows I smell like fresh roses in Spring."

Hongjoong cackles, glued to Seonghwa's side which the older boy doesn't mind. They remain like that as they indulge in lunch (servings of fruit, vegetables and meat) and later that day, after they get freshened up, Seonghwa's reading gets interrupted when Hongjoong jumps into their shared mattress, bouncing the material.

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa scolds, but the younger just laughs, folding his legs around Seonghwa's.

"You're always reading." The collar of Hongjoong's plain shirt slips down one tanned shoulder, exposing the dark tendrils on his back. Working on instinct, Seonghwa pushes it back up.

Hongjoong notices. "No one's around."

"We can never be too careful."

"You already ensure my safety by covering up those marks with the powder you made, which I am very thankful for," Hongjoong says. "But you should trust me. I won't let it show anywhere else."

"I do trust you," Seonghwa replies, stroking the younger's hair. It's grown a lot more now, the strands tickling the base of his neck. "I'll trust you forever."

***

"Do you believe in magic?"

It's later that same very day, a little past evening time. The moon is full and round, a stark white in the midst of pitch black skies and greying clouds.

Seonghwa looks up from the table of books and scrolls from Yeon's small library, meeting her eyes at the other side. The woman smiles, and Seonghwa's suddenly brought to that day he saw Hongjoong's own mother get executed for being who she was.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Yeon chuckles, but her eyes are far too keen, far too knowing.

Seonghwa clears his throat. "I'm just a bit tired, is all. And..." he stares at the scrolls situated before him, "and what do you mean?"

"I want to know if you believe in magic. If you think it exists."

Seonghwa chews his lip. "Like...like wands, witches and spells?"

"Things along those lines, yes."

"I don't think things like those exist, per se," Seonghwa tells the older woman. "But maybe it's because I haven't seen nor experienced them before."

"Are you sure?"

Seonghwa keeps his expression composed. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Wouldn't it be good if you were able to wield magic?" Yeon questions, head on her palm as she waits to listen to what the young boy has to say. "Think of all the possibilities."

"Yes, being able to control magic would have its benefits, but I'm content with being here. I'm content with waking up and helping you and spending time with Hongjoong."

And who needs magic when Hongjoong is magic himself? Seonghwa smiles to himself at the thought.

Yeon nods, fine with his answer. They talk for more minutes, until she decides to tell Seonghwa stories of a lake that cures every single ailment and pain you could possibly have in this world.

Aurora's Lake, Yeon calls it, a place several people have died trying to find.

Instead of finding it, it finds you, she tells Seonghwa, and even though the tales surrounding the lake are highly fantastical and surreal, he still listens, undoubtedly captivated.

***

On Hongjoong's fifteenth birthday, Seonghwa sees him transform for the first time.

They're by the streams, the early sunlight diffusing half the river in molten honey.

Seonghwa is laughing about something funny Hongjoong just said, cold droplets rolling down his bare chest as he wades through the body of water, intending on swimming a little.

Hongjoong drops behind him, dipping below the river's dim surface. Seonghwa yelps when the younger tickles his legs, and attempts attacking him too.

Hongjoong swims elsewhere to dodge Seonghwa's wrath, but then he trips and falls, the river's waves swallowing him.

"Hongjoong?" Seonghwa mops off the excess water dripping off his face. He paddles further into the river, looking around for his friend. "Hongjoong? Where are you?"

Silence.

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa calls out again, fear slipping into his voice.

The dull river grumbles, waves sloshing about. Then white.

The colour's bright, luminous, almost like lightning, bursting through the dark water.

Someone rises above the surface that very second, inhaling a sharp gust of air. They're pale -- frighteningly so -- with broad shoulders and long, ebony locks sticking to their temple.

They cough, towering over Seonghwa by just a few inches. Their back glows.

Seonghwa gasps. "H-Hongjoong?"

Deep brown eyes meet his, glossing over with recognition and agony.

Seonghwa steps in and wraps his arms snugly around Hongjoong's sides, and just as easily, Hongjoong melts into his touch, his cheeks wet with river water and tears.

Seonghwa tells Hongjoong it's okay whilst the younger sobs into his chest, shoulders trembling. He tells him it's fine, because it always will be as long as they stick together.

As long as we stick together nothing can break us apart.

***

They arrive back at the barn an hour later, spotting Yeon and Dandan at the front.

"Are my eyes failing me at last, or is the taller one of you two now the shorter?" She asks, pointing her cane at them.

Seonghwa wants to explain but doesn't know how, and he keeps his fingers interlocked with Hongjoong's, a steady anchor in the series of calamitous events that happened today. "Miss, we..."

"Don't mention it," the woman says. And they leave it at that.

"His name is Yunho." Hongjoong says after the day is over.

"Yunho?"

"Yes. He -- he was sleeping on his bed. I took him."

Seonghwa hesitates. "You never meant to do it."

"But I still did."

***

Next March, Hongjoong finally succeeds in riding Treasure.

It's a colder than usual afternoon, but the sky is clear and azure, not a single cloud present.

Seonghwa stays with Hongjoong throughout as he first feeds and grooms the horses, and then he's leading Treasure out to the back, letting the tame mare graze about the pasture to loosen her joints.

Seonghwa helps Hongjoong then tie the horse in place, whilst Hongjoong applies and secures the saddle.

"Think you can actually do this?" Seonghwa questions as Hongjoong frees Treasure and leads her forward, preparing to mount.

"Miss Yeon taught me many times, but I never stayed on for long," Hongjoong answers, lips set in childlike determination.

"I don't think you'll be able to pull it off."

"Watch me." Hongjoong's round eyes darken with challenge. "I'm thinking of something good that I'll do if I manage to stay on for more than a minute."

Seonghwa chuckles, the chill in the air cooling his cheeks. "And what is that?"

Hongjoong says nothing and gets on the stirrups from the left, mounting on Treasure in one swift motion. He adjusts himself on the saddle and grips the reins, kicking the horse into motion.

Treasure trots at first, and Hongjoong is cheering, a big, bright grin on his face because he isn't falling. Then, he makes the mare prance about the field, keeping himself settled on the saddle the entire time.

Hongjoong cheers even louder. Wind in his hair, lips stretched into a blinding smile, there isn't a word worthy enough to describe just how splendid he looks at that very moment.

Happiness looks the best on you.

"Be careful!" Seonghwa yells, but he's smiling too, hand on his chest as he watches on like a proud parent. His heart feels light, blazing with joy.

"I am!" Hongjoong shouts, but at his tone of voice, Treasure skids to a premature stop. Hongjoong holds still despite this, his long limbs saving him.

He shoots Seonghwa a triumphant grin, and gets off the horse.

Seonghwa waits -- like he's always done -- about to give the younger a congratulatory hug for his feat.

But Hongjoong does something else, something he doesn't expect.

He cups Seonghwa's face, thumbs brushing his cheeks, and kisses him.

Electricity sparks under Seonghwa's skin at the contact, his heart thumping erratically in his chest. Hongjoong's lips are soft, so soft, melting into his like butter.

Hongjoong kisses him like he's the passing breeze, shy and faint and so, so gentle, like Seonghwa would break away or vanish off if he doesn't hold him with utmost care.

He kisses him like he's precious.

And Seonghwa kisses him back -- deeper this time. His heartbeat stutters when he feels the quiver of Hongjoong's lips against his, feels the younger's hands carding through his hair as he pulls him even closer.

Hongjoong tastes of sweetness and of longing and youth.

He tastes of home.