“Hyung I'm scared. . .” Jiyong whimpered, clinging to Seunghyun's arm. The two sat huddled together in their little fort while they listened to the sounds of cooking downstairs, trying to drown out the sounds of the wind howling outside Jiyong's bedroom window.

“I know Ji me too. . .” The eight year old said as his attempts to be strong for his friend rapidly faded away.

A particularly loud clap of thunder resonated through the house, making the two boys scream and cling to each other for dear life.

“Maybe we should go downstairs with mama and papa. . .We can eat too and maybe it won't be so scary!” Jiyong whimpered as his eyes clamped shut and he clung to Seunghyun's arm.

“Ok lets go!” Seunghyun said a little too quickly, his own fear of the darkness and the thunder beginning to set in.

Jiyong shook his head as he clung closer to Seunghyun. “No you go first. . .” He said with his hands shaking as he let go of Seunghyun's shirt.

Seunghyun nodded nervously as he crawled out from under the blankets that made up the fort, leaving Jiyong alone while he walked through the dark room. He clutched his worn bunny plushie close to his chest as his mind vaguely registered how much more secure he felt when he was holding Jiyong.

When he arrived at the door, Seunghyun felt a wave of relief as the light from the hallway and the smell of homemade food from downstairs drifted up to him. He turned back to the dark room and reached his hand out for Jiyong.

“Ji come on, its not as scary in the light-” Seunghyun stopped speaking as he saw a bright flash of lightning outside followed by an immediate boom of thunder that sounded a lot closer than he felt comfortable with admitting. He would have ran downstairs to Jiyong's parents and cried his heart out to them immediately, but something stopped him when he heard a sound that broke his eight year old heart.

Jiyong was crying.

It wasn't just a soft cry - he was sobbing. It was a sound that made Seunghyun heart feel trapped in his chest. It was at that moment that Seunghyun realized that he couldn't run away. He couldn't leave his best friend alone like this, not when Jiyong was so scared already.

Seunghyun clutched his bunny plushie and walked back into the darkness of the room. He took a deep breath and crawled back into the little entryway of their fort. It was so dark that Seunghyun could barely see anything. He felt more than saw Jiyong there, huddled underneath the blanket. Seunghyun took a deep breath to try and be strong for the younger boy as he reached out and nudged the shivering form beneath the soft cloth.

“Ji . . .take my hand. Come on. I will take you where it isn't scary anymore.” He said softly, hoping that Jiyong didn't hear the way his voice began to falter at the end.

Jiyong just reached out his shaking hands, grasping onto Seunghyun as the older boy pulled him into a hug while at the same time inching his way out of the fort. He kept the crying boy close to his side and quickly made it to the hallway where there was light. Seunghyun didn't let the other go when they had cleared the dark room though. He held onto Jiyong and lead him all the way downstairs where his mother was cooking. She took one look at their terrified faces and quickly pulled them into a hug. She poured some tea for the boys and told them dinner would be ready in a few minutes.

Seunghyun held Jiyong's shaking hand tightly as he lead the younger boy to the couch. He sat with Jiyong and set his bunny plushie in the younger boy's lap. Jiyong sniffled as he looked at the stuffed animal before he threw his arms around Seunghyun's neck and cried, this time from relief.

Despite his earlier feelings of being scared Seunghyun now felt only warmth and happiness. He was so glad Jiyong wasn't scared anymore. If it had been anyone else he would have left them in the dark without a second thought and cried his heart out to Jiyong's mom. Since it was Jiyong, he felt that if he left him alone he would hate himself forever.

Seunghyun didn't know what the feelings were but maybe they were the signs of something more than friendship beginning to blossom. Something stronger that began the moment their hands touched.