The ice gripped onto everything like glue, holding the world in a fixed position so time could not push the world forward. Everything was frozen stiff, the days and nights just as dark as each other. The sweet sparkle of frost had become the harsh sheen of black ice before an injury. Roads were shut, the rails were mostly out of use.

Daehyun lived in this stasis of mind that hadn't budged an inch from the moment he'd lost sight of Youngjae. He was on his last train home before his free time, but he felt no excitement for the festive cheer that spending time with his family would bring. If it could indeed bring him any cheer at all. He felt hollow, his mind repeating over the last time the two boys had been together, stuck like a statue on the same train in the same seat at the same on the same day.

There was an envelope tucked in his inner pocket. He reached inside his coat like clockwork as the train drew closer to where Youngjae would get on. If the train stopped. If Youngjae would be there. He held the paper with numb hands, barely aware of the way the paper had been crumpled so often it no longer made the gentle crinkling, not even noticing where the corners had roughed down into soft stumps, the dirty marks from being moved from pocket to hands then back to pocket completely invisible to him. Only the writing on the front caught his attention.

To Youngjae,

Well done!

-Daehyun x

He looked up at the doors, and watched as the station shot past his gaze and vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

This was the last time, before the new year. He raised a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it from his eyes. Will he stick to his resolution?

The world turned slowly. The calendars were taken down and replaced. The dark sky was filled with fireworks that boomed and echoed off walls and through the streets where people gathered. The colourful lights shimmered off melting ice. The smell of food filled the air, cooking meats and sweet pastries and the ever present stench of alcohol on everyone's tongue. Bodies in the street pushed against each other, clouds of breath mingling with smoke, children grabbing for their parents hands and lovers clinging on to one another, strangers meeting each other and old friends reuniting.

Daehyun tugged at his fringe uncertainly.

The sun rose on a clear morning, melting the ice down to puddles that soaked into the hems of trousers and dripped off roof tops down people's necks. The chill remained, keeping everyone in thick raincoats, but the silvery-white world had begun to fade.

Daehyun sat on the edge of his seat. It was the first day of term, he was sure of it. The rails were back to their usual state, stopping at every station. Somehow Daehyun had forgotten how long the journey was when it wasn't a direct line. Each stop was agonising, just wasting time before the stop that mattered.

Next stop, he told himself as the train pulled out of a station. Next stop, and I'll see Youngjae again.

He clutched hold of the letter, now off-colour and covered in creases. It would be late, very late to give it to him. But, if he was lucky, it would be okay. If only I'd just asked for his number, he chided himself.

The train slowed to a screaming halt and Daehyun held his breath.

The doors opened.

A few passengers climbed on board.

He waited.

No sign of Youngjae so far.

There was the whistle of conductors and the slam of doors closing.

No Yongjae.

The doors in front of him shut.

No one was running towards the train.

The engine started.

He glanced up the carriages.

No familiar faces.

The train pulled out of the station and he bit his lip to stop it from trembling. The wrong day, he told himself, you got the wrong day. It must be tomorrow that term starts.

He looked down at the letter. It was pushing it, badly, but he had time.

He still had time.

Tomorrow.

The next day, the train pulled into the station and he clutched the letter in his hand. This time, for sure, he'd talk to Youngjae. Everything would work out.

The train stopped. The doors opened. Passengers filed on.

No Youngjae.

He glanced up and down the carriages. The doors were closing. The whistles were blown.

No Youngjae.

The train engine started up and the station began to roll slowly out of his view. There wasn't even a hint of someone running onto the station in a last-minute panic.

If he didn't catch Youngjae soon, it would be too late.

The next day, there was no Youngjae. Nor the day after, or the day after that. Days turned into weeks. Daehyun gave up with the letter. It sat in his pocket untouched.

The world turned around him, the ice melted and the days warm. He remained stuck on that snowy winter day, frozen stiff and cold to the core.

He stopped being embarrassed about crying on the train.  

A/N: I swear it gets better just stick about I swear it'll be worth it.