After writing his letters, Sungyeol was left with nothing to do. He hadn't seen Dongwoo yet that day, but at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to chat with the small man to pass the time.

Nearly bored out of his mind, he pulled himself up onto his crutches and hobbled out to the living room. A tall bookshelf stood against the wall and he came to a halt in front of it, browsing the titles.

Most of the books had faded spines and frayed cloth binding. They looked like antiques he could find in a wise old professor's private study. He tilted his head to skim the subjects. Botany, gardening, flower encyclopedias, Mendelian genetics; countless titles on plant sciences that could only point to Myungsoo and the greenhouse.

He leaned down to browse the lower shelves and was pleasantly surprised to discover a thick publication on medicinal herbology. Carefully, he wiggled it out. All of the books on the shelf had been tightly packed in. The hard covers were textured with aged blue fabric and printed with gold letters. It felt much heavier than he'd anticipated.

He took a seat on the sofa. The cushion crunched under him. Sungyeol frowned, pressing his hand flat onto the cushion, confused when it crunched even more. He'd never heard a couch do that before.

After getting over the strange sofa sounds, Sungyeol had become so fully immersed in the book that he didn't even notice when Dongwoo entered the front door.

"Hello, Sungyeol! Keeping yourself entertained, I see?"

His head snapped up. "Dongwoo! Yes, you've got such a lovely collection of books here."

"Myungsoo's insatiably curious when it comes to his greenhouse research. Every time he visits a city, he returns with a new book." He craned his neck to see the cover. "Herbology, your specialty!"

"I wouldn't say it's my specialty just yet," he said bashfully.

"Don't be so unsure of yourself, I'm sure you've already got quite the knowledge. In fact, you were so precise in your description of wild lettuce that I had no trouble at all finding it today! I collected a big basket of leaves, it's sitting just outside the door."

"That's fantastic! I'll prepare some right away." He made to stand, but Dongwoo stopped him.

"Please, allow me. Just tell me what to do and I have it covered. In the meantime, I'll run you a bath and you can get washed up. I'm sure you've been awfully uncomfortable not being able to bathe properly since you got here."

Sungyeol hesitated for a moment, but he knew that the man wouldn't accept any arguments. A bit resigned, he gave verbal instructions to prepare the wild lettuce and let Dongwoo disappear into the bathroom.

The sound of running water stopped and Dongwoo returned to the living room. "Try to keep the cast out of water. It might be a bit awkward, but the tub is fairly small, so you can prop your foot up on the edge. Laundry can go in the hamper. Will you be alright on your own?"

"Yes, don't worry about me. Thank you for preparing everything."

He smiled broadly. "You're welcome. I'll be heading out to set the leaves in the sun and tend to the deer."

"Alright, I'll see you later, then."

Dongwoo bid him farewell and made for the door.

On his way out, he ran into Myungsoo, who had just returned from the greenhouse. They exchanged quick greetings before going their separate ways, Dongwoo to the field and Myungsoo to his room upstairs.

Sungyeol bundled his dirty clothing into a ball and dropped it into the hamper beside the door. He leaned his hands on the countertop to help himself to the tub -- he'd decided to leave the crutches in the bedroom.

The tub stood on four stout brass feet, clean white porcelain filled with clear water. It was the perfect temperature, not lukewarm but not scalding.

He sat down on the edge, slowly and carefully turning his body to swing his good leg, the right one, into the tub. Once his foot was rooted on the bottom he stood on one leg, planting his hands on the edges. He attempted to ease himself down into the water while keeping his casted foot resting up on the lip of the tub, out of the water as Dongwoo instructed. But then, before he knew it, his foot was sliding and he found himself underwater, fully submerged. He pushed his head back above the surface, coughing and spluttering out water. As he sat there panting, a few sharp knocks sounded at the door.

“Sungyeol, are you alright?? I heard a loud noise. Did you slip?” Myungsoo’s frantic voice came from the other side.

“I’m alright,” he called back. His injured leg had bent at the knee during his fall and currently sat folded underneath him an awkward angle. Placing his hands on either side of the tub, he attempted to hoist himself up so that he could straighten it again, but the space was too narrow and his legs got tangled even worse. He couldn’t hold back the cry that escaped his lips as he tried to force his way out of the mess.

“What just happened?”

“I’m a bit stuck. I… I’m not sure if I can get out of it myself.”

There was a moment of silence.

“May I come in?”

He bit his lip and sighed. There weren’t really any other options. “Yes.”

The door creaked open and Myungsoo entered, embarrassed, eyes cast down at the floor. He stayed close to the door. “Tell me what to do.”

“Could you please come lift me up?”

He shuffled closer, eyes flickering to Sungyeol for a split second, catching a glimpse of exposed skin before he averted his gaze to the side. He leaned forward and extended his arms to the other, who gripped his biceps. With a firm pull, he hoisted Sungyeol up enough to free his legs, which he extended in front of him before sitting back down in the tub.

Sungyeol shivered when Myungsoo’s hands made contact with his bare arms. They were ice cold. After he had settled back into the water, he dipped his hands into the warmth and crossed his arms, rubbing the cool spots where Myungsoo’s hands had been.

“Thank you, Myungsoo.”

“No worries.” He continued to look everywhere but Sungyeol.

“Your hands are freezing, by the way.”

Myungsoo on his lower lip. “It’s anemia. Both Dongwoo and I have it. Ironic, considering we sell red meat for a living.”

“You really ought to take better care of yourselves. Anemia can kill if it’s left alone.”

He smiled and looked down. “Yes, I’ve heard that. I’ll be more careful.” He inched toward the door. “I should leave you alone now. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be right outside -- in the living room.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

Myungsoo collected his papers from upstairs and spread them on the coffee table in the living room. He sat down on the couch and flinched at the crackle of dry leaves crunching under his weight. He’d have to remind Dongwoo to restuff the cushions with something more appropriate. For the time being, however, he scribbled out data and notes he’d collected from the greenhouse that morning, keeping a careful ear out for any other bathroom incidents.

Sungyeol took his time leisurely scrubbing his skin clean of dirt and oil, relishing the warm water.

The cast had absorbed a fair amount of water, and it felt waterlogged as he swished it around in the tub. How unfortunate. Perhaps he could try to prepare a new glue himself. It had looked so interesting when Dongwoo had done it, that he wanted to try his hand at it.

After soaping off all the grime of the past few days, he pulled the rubber stopper out of the tub and let the grey, charcoal-clouded bathwater swirl down the drain. He had reserved a pail of clean water next to the tub, which he poured over his head to rinse off remnants of suds.

More carefully this time, he pulled himself up and climbed out of the tub, toweling himself dry and dressing carefully. His long pants wouldn’t fit over the soaked cast, so he settled for a sweater and boxers, wrapping the towel around his waist for the sake of modesty. He emerged from the bathroom carrying his clean pants.

Myungsoo looked up at him, immediately noticing the towel around his lower half and the swollen cast. He pushed all of his papers to one side of the table and scooted down the sofa. “Come sit. Let’s replace your bandages.”

Sungyeol made it over in a couple hops and sat down, letting Myungsoo lift his foot onto the table.

The man stood and left the room for a moment, returning with a massive pair of bronze shears. He sat down again directly beside Sungyeol.

Sungyeol noticed that he was wearing leather gloves. He hadn't been twenty minutes ago.

With great care and precision, Myungsoo cut a seam down the soggy fabric, then split it open with his hands and removed it in one piece, discarding it in the kitchen. He returned again with a dry cloth and a new roll of bandage. With gentle hands, he patted Sungyeol’s leg and foot dry and proceeded to wind a new layer of white cloth around it. He moved slower than Dongwoo had, seemingly less practiced, but did the job just as neatly. After snipping off the end, he secured it with tape.

“All done.” He said.

“Much better. Thank you.”

Myungsoo pressed his lips together in a polite smile and nodded in acknowledgement, before gathering all of his things and retreating to his bedroom once again.

Sungjong read the letter a second time, then a third. He huffed and threw it down onto the table with the envelope. The heavy wax seal cracked from the impact.

“So he’s hurt in the forest with a couple of strangers, and he doesn’t want me to tell his parents. Who the hell does he think he is?!”

Hoya picked up the letter and skimmed it again. “He knows they’d be worried sick about him. Besides, it might be better for him to stay out there and heal up. I’m not sure his family could afford the hospital bills if he came back into the city.” He shrugged and patted Sungjong’s shoulder. “Sungyeol’s a smart guy, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”

Sungjong scoffed. “As if. He’s probably the last person who knows what he’s doing.”

“If you’re so worried, why don’t you try writing back?”

“Who am I supposed to address it to?! There’s no return address, no information on his location whatsoever, no nothing!”

“Just tell the postman to deliver it to the cabin in the forest.”

“Yes, Hoya, because I’m sure the postman is an expert forest navigator who knows exactly which trees to turn at.”

“All I’m saying is that he had to have picked up the letter in order to get it here.”

Sungjong sighed. “I guess you’re right. It’s worth a shot.”

“There’s no knowing if we don’t try.”

“Exactly.”

Hoya made a move to exit the room.

“Hoya?” Sungjong called.

He stopped and turned.

“Sorry for blowing up at you just now.”

The man gave a lopsided grin and moved closer to ruffle the younger’s hair. “Don't sweat it. You’re worried about Sungyeol. I get it. So am I. But we need to have a little more faith in him. He’s not a kid anymore, and neither are we. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s spent a week alone in the woods.”