"Yunho, look it's a clipper butterfly!" Jaejoong smiled, a picture of innocence as he skipped across the meadow. The yellow and faded green on the earth shimmered in the evening light, the sherbert sky casting a orange glow on the field. Jaejoong, his smock newly washed and glittering like snow, twirled around and beckoned his older brother forward. "Hurry Yunho, you will miss it!" he shouted, ushering the older to walk faster. He could not contain his excitement as he watched the blue butterfly drift lazily across the meadow, its wings a paragon against the air. He wanted his brother to see the beautiful creature; he wanted to share the wonders of the world with his sibling, but his patience trickled when he realized Yunho did not hasten his speed.

"You are too easily amused," Yunho chuckled, following his younger brother as the other stilled, turning to confront him with a displeased huff. Yunho reach Jaejoong and slumped down onto the ground, heaving out a content sigh as he stared up into the fading sky. He was in no rush. Clippers were easily created, and even easier to spot. "I can create a clipper for you if you wish it," he said, his gaze shifting to the youngest before retreating back onto the clouds. He heard Jaejoong grunt at his words, his hair fluttering as Jaejoong flopped down beside him, pooling across his chest and glancing down at his brother.

"I want you to see what simply is, not what simply can be created," Jaejoong said, his hands coming up to pinch at Yunho's nose. "Just because Gran and you know how to cast doesn't mean I can. I'm normal," he sighed, letting go of his brother's nose and opting to stare at his handsome face. He felt the raging emotions surface, his insecurities a barricade of water as they washed out once more. He had never felt like he was part of the family. Painting was not his thing, and magic did not run in his veins. What use was he if he could not create beauty? He knew he was different from Yunho, different from Gran, and even different from the villagers. They always stared at him as he walked past, whispered into each other's ears and looking him down. It unnerved him how they would gaze at him, and it was always painful to know he was different.

He sighed as he looked down at his brother. Why couldn't he be as handsome as Yunho? His brother was sturdy and strong, adept with straining muscles and a baritone voice. While his brother had a growing stubble that made him look mature and kept, Jaejoong barely had any hair. He didn't feel worthy of the Jung name, didn't look beautiful like his grandmother or handsome like his brother. He felt ordinary, invisible even.

Yunho watched the thoughts tread over Jaejoong's delicate features. He cupped his hand against the other's cheek just as he had done their first meeting fifteen years ago, just as he did whenever Jaejoong felt down, and gave it a gentle pat. "You are anything but normal," he smiled, looking at his beautiful Jaejoong and sighing. How could the other not realize his worth? Jaejoong was striking, vivid, dauntingly kind, everything perfect was and ever will be. The fact that his younger brother--the one who possesed the softest, whitest skin, the one with the cherry lips and quirky nose, the one that looks best with a smile on his face--felt insecure left him speechless. But what showed on the outside could never compare to what was within. Jaejoong was far from normal. Jaejoong was kind. He cared for sick animals, talked to them as they cried. He bought children melon bread whenever he could, and would always compliment Yunho on his drawings. Jaejoong had the greatest heart.

"I don't feel special," Jaejoong pouted, leaning into his brother's palms and descending his head to lie against the older's sturdy chest. "I wish I could cast. Then you won't be the only one showing me beautiful things," he sighed, humming against the rise and fall of his brother. He twisted his body to mold into the hold, cocconing himself deeper as Yunho's arm s under his waist and pulled him closer. Yunho was always drawing him gifts and trinkets, flowers and birds, and since Jaejoong was young, he had always marveled at how great Yunho was. He always felt useless when he realized he couldn't Cast and give his brother the same joy.

"You make me see beauty every day," Yunho soothed, smiling down at his brother. "I see it whenever you smile; I see it whenever you pout," he laughed, tracing calming circles into Jaejoong's back.

"You say that just because I'm your brother," Jaejoong said, hitting Yunho lightly with his fist. His eyes narrowed when Yunho hummed an agreement, earning the older another slap to his torso before Jaejoong pulled away. "You test me," Jaejoong said, angry at his brother's teasing. He never did like it when his brother joked about his obligation as a sibling to Jaejoong. He wanted to feel Yunho's love, wanted to know that his brother treasured him. He could only pout once more before he was pulled down back onto the ground and encased in a tight embrace. "What are you chuckling about," he seethed, though he could not help but smile into the hold.

"Should I draw you my love?" Yunho hummed, continuing his circular pattern against Jaejoong's back. "I wouldn't know what to draw," he admitted, knowing that his love for his brother was too great. "You need to feel it in my words, see it in my eyes," he finalized, fingers dancing underneath his brother's chin before gently pushing it up so that gentle eyes could meet his. "Love is never a test," he grinned, watching Jaejoong accept his apology before he was hugged.

"You and your words," Jaejoong sighed. He pushed himself away and looked up at the darkening sky. A gasp escaped his throat as he realized the time. "We need to get going before we miss the opening of the Lantern Festival!" he said, excitement thick inside of him as he confronted his groaning brother. The Lantern Festival was his favorite festival of the year, what with all the laughter and food and lighting of colorful paper lanterns, but for Yunho, it was just another torturing obligation to the people.

"I want to stay here," Yunho groaned, his fingers massage at his head as he pictured how his life in the next few hours would be. He could almost smell the intoxicating perfume as young, blossoming ladies tried to woo him, could almost feel the splinters in his hand as he drew up countless little trinkets to give to the village children. Making others happy made him happy, but when festivals came around, he felt like being a Castor was too much of a burden on his shoulders. He sometimes mused to himself selfish thoughts. Wanting only to please his Jaejoong and his grandmother, but whatever pleased the people made his grandmother happy, so he could not deny social relations.

Nevertheless, it was extremely tedious for him. He had never passed a festival with his grandmother and Jaejoong. He was either too busy, his grandmother was too busy, or Jaejoong would be lost in the never ending maze of villagers and visitors. He never had fun during those times. He would rather remain in nature and run with Kint and Fi, playing hide and seek with his animals rather than suffer through a few hours of being the perfect Jung. He almost gave up to his urge, almost, until he chanced a look at his younger brother's excited face and he knew he had no choice.

"Fine," he sighed, pushing himself up from the dirt and standing up, his hands outstretched as he helped Jaejoong stand, "but you need to be careful. Do not leave my side," he cautioned, taking his brother's hands in his and walking them towards the direction of the festival. He knew Jaejoong was old enough to be treated like an adult, but he could not rest easy when Jaejoong was out in public. He wasn't lying when he said Jaejoong was beautiful. He knew well enough from his friends how tempting Jaejoong could be. He heard too many cat whistles, saw too many sleezy grins and twitching fingers to not be afraid of other's attraction to his brother. It was all justified, because his Jaejoong was crafted by love, and love was the most beautiful thing in the world. He had fought and defended his brother's innocence, from his first gaze onto the bundle in his grandmother's arms until now. He would never, ever let anyone defile his brother. Never let