Although it was summer Minseok was cold. Even the blazing heat from the sun did nothing to warm up the Korean man. People embraced the sun’s warmth. Minseok craved it. He yearned to be touched by heat, to lose the chilling winter feeling that always gripped him.

An empty sigh escaped him and Minseok laughed bitterly at the wisp of air that appeared from his cool breath. Minseok shrugged his backpack off his shoulders and plopped onto the soft grass. He had picked a random spot in the middle of the large park where there were no trees to cast a shadow over him. There was no way he would risk losing any chance of warmth he could grasp.

Ignoring the itchy feeling, he collapsed backwards to lie on his back. With his eyes closed, Minseok tried to seep into the earth or at least in the heat that radiated from it. But even the earth’s heat was not enough to warm him.

Minseok wished the ground could open up and swallow him whole. After learning in school that the earth’s core was practically as hot as the sun reaching temperatures of about 7,000 degrees Celsius, or so the scientists presumed, Minseok had always wanted to test this theory. If it was true, would the liquid outer core manage to warm the man who was always cold?

Heaving a frustrated puff of air, emptying his frosty lungs, Minseok grimaced at the way the oxygen chilled, gripped his throat, and weaved its frozen fingers through his veins, arteries, muscles, everything. Minseok hated the cold and yet it seemed to love him, hugging him and never letting go. His body was a freezer that worked all-year round.

Ever since he was born, Minseok has been cold. Not personality-wise but temperature-wise. The doctors had no clue what was wrong with him. They feared that he had some rare illness and that he had little time left to live. However, they were wrong. Minseok was not ill. He was cursed.

Minseok never understood why his temperature was cooler than everyone else. At first, he didn’t care much about it. As a child, he wanted to get along with the other kids. They didn’t have a problem either. Minseok enjoyed spending his time with them and playing games outside, running around without a care in the world. His body temperature didn’t mean a thing to him.

It wasn’t until one particular day in spring in his small hometown in the country where Minseok began to see the curse that plagued him. He was in his first year of middle school, just a small boy who still hadn’t outgrown his baby fat. Kids because of his round cheeks, calling him chubby when the boy was really far from it.

However, that day in spring during their lunch break, a group of boys who were their seniors walked by Minseok’s table. The boy was chatting with his friends and didn’t even notice the taller boys looming behind him. His friends did and they ceased their chatter, gaping at the older boys.

“Well if it isn’t the little chubby chipmunk. Are you storing nuts for the winter or are your cheeks always that puffy?” one of them taunted. Minseok was afraid to turn around and face them, so he didn’t.

“Hey, your sunbae is talking to you. You should face him and show him some respect,” another boy added. Minseok could hear the sneer in his voice and he shakily turned in his seat to look at the group of guys.

“That’s better. Now you should bow and greet us,” the first boy said.

Minseok obeyed, bowing stiffly and mumbling a quiet “hello sunbaes”. Without warning, one of the boys pinched Minseok’s cheek. He was about to stretch it but released the boy’s skin and gasped in shock.

“What the ? Why is your skin so cold?” the boy exclaimed in utter disbelief. Minseok kept his mouth shut. He didn’t have an answer to that question either. “You freak!”

The words cut through Minseok like a well-kept sword. Sharp and cleanly. He had been called many things, such as chubby and chipmunk, but never had he been called a freak. It hurt him to the point that he couldn’t breathe right.

After the boy’s exclamation, his friend grew curious as well. They all started poking at Minseok and retracted from him in astonishment once they felt the below freezing temperature exuding from the boy’s body. It was always a shock to people. Whenever someone would touch Minseok, they would jolt and flinch away from him. Nobody liked the cold.

“What’s with this kid?”

“He’s such a freak.”

“Weirdo.”

The boys whispered to one another as if Minseok wasn’t sitting right in front of them. He heard every single word they uttered and he was growing more frustrated by the second. Minseok wasn’t usually the type to get angry. As ironic as it was, Minseok had a cool temper. There wasn’t much that could set him off.

However, at that point in time he could not stand it anymore. His bottled up anger exploded like a volcano. Except it didn’t come with the heat. It was quite the opposite. Minseok’s tiny hands were clenched into fists and they trembled with fury. Right when he opened his mouth to say something to the older boys, everyone in the cafeteria let out cries of shock.

Gasps, shrieks, and yelps bounced throughout the room as kids pointed to the walls of the cafeteria that were now turning white. It was a frosty white. In fact, it actually was frost that was creeping over the walls and the floor. The snow glistened dangerously under the overhead lights.

The older boys were cursing out loud, panicking and flailing their arms about. They tried to run from Minseok who was glaring murderously at them but they could not. To their horror – and Minseok’s surprise – their feet were frozen to the ground. They all lost their balance and fell backwards onto their bottoms, instantly shivering from the icy floor.

“What the hell is this? Are you doing this, you freak?” the first boy yelled. The sharp tone to his voice pierced Minseok’s eardrums and he cringed, the volume much too loud for his taste. But, he wasn’t afraid anymore. At least not of the older boys. No. Minseok was now afraid of himself.

He couldn’t deny it. He was the one who caused this. He was the one who…froze the cafeteria. Now, Minseok began finding the word “freak” suitable for him as well. What kind of human could do something like this? It was unnatural.

Minseok had never felt colder in his life. As the prickly fingers of the cold reached out for him, called to him, Minseok shook his head. He didn’t want them. Their touch was like poison to him. Panting, Minseok rose to his feet and dashed away from the cafeteria just as the teachers were charging in to see what had happened. He ran past them and fled the school grounds. Minseok thought that someone would follow him, hoped even, but no one did. No one wanted to associate with the ice boy.

That spring day when the sun was melting the winter snow away, Minseok had frozen an entire room. He had gone home that day and begged his parents to transfer him to another school. In fact, he pleaded that they move somewhere else. The look of pure terror in Minseok’s eyes made his parents comply and they moved to Seoul. There was no news at all about a boy who could freeze a cafeteria much to Minseok’s surprise.

He didn’t want to face those kids again, to see their wide eyes staring at him like he was an alien. Minseok didn’t need to hear the whispers that would surely spread through the school like wildfire or the insults that could break him apart. The word “freak” was the last thing he wanted to hear.

From that day on, Minseok swore to never get close with anyone again. To never let people touch him and feel the cold. Much like his body temperature, Minseok now acted cold to keep people away. No one could call him a freak if they never knew the truth.

As Minseok came back from his trip down memory lane, he noticed a shadow over him and assumed it to be a cloud passing over the sun. He kept his eyes closed and didn’t bother to open them. Instead, he blew out an exasperated sigh that of course chilled the air around it. There was a sudden gasp and Minseok’s eyes popped open.

What he saw surprised him. A pair of the most beautiful eyes Minseok had ever seen stared down at him, wide in shock. Long fluttering eyelashes were showcased to Minseok when those eyes blinked slowly. He found himself falling into the deep, dark color of the irises that nearly blended in with the pitch black pupil. The corners of these eyes formed tiny wrinkles, indicating that the owner of those eyes was now smiling.

Said owner now stood up straight and Minseok was free to sit up and gaze at him with his own eyes growing wide. The boy or at least Minseok presumed he was a boy, beamed at Minseok and sat on the grass beside him. He had such delicate features that he looked almost feminine. His lips were a peachy pink but they look so soft and supple that Minseok wanted to brush his fingers over them. The fact that those lips were curled up into the tiniest of smiles was even more enticing to Minseok.

“Sorry to surprise you like that. I thought you were sleeping,” the boy said in a voice that danced in Minseok’s ears. He chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks adopting the color of a tomato. Minseok only found the boy even cuter that way.

“It’s alright,” Minseok managed to say without stammering like a fool. His head was turned away from the boy so he couldn’t see the fog coming out of his mouth. “But, could you please leave me alone? I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now.”

No matter how cute that boy was, Minseok could not allow himself to become comfortable with him. He couldn’t open the door and let him in because he knew in the end that he would be the only one hurt. Waiting, Minseok didn’t dare to turn around until he heard sounds of the boy retreating. It wasn’t until about a minute of silence that Minseok decided to be more assertive with the boy who was either too stubborn to leave or too curious for his own good. He met gazes with the boy again, registering even more details about him. Like the fact that the boy didn’t look Korean but rather Chinese. Or the light, hazel brown color of his hair that shimmered under the sun’s rays. Minseok wondered how it would feel like to tangle his fingers in that soft looking hair but brushed the thought away immediately.

“Are you still not going to leave?” Minseok snapped, his tone laced with irritation. The fact that he couldn’t see his icy breath was surprising but it was the least of Minseok’s worries. It wasn’t even a worry; it was more of a relief.

The boy grinned at Minseok and settled down in his spot, getting comfortable. “My name is Luhan. What’s yours?”

Minseok nearly gaped at the boy’s blatant defiance of his wishes. He closed his eyes taking in a few deep breaths to calm him before answering, “Minseok. My name’s Minseok.”

Luhan, as the boy had introduced himself as, smiled and held his hand out. Minseok stared at it and let the boy’s hand hang in the air. He had no intention of making any type of skin contact. It would surely send the boy running. So, Minseok bowed his head slightly instead and Luhan’s hand hovered between them a bit longer before he slowly let it drop into his lap.

“What’s in your backpack? Are you a student?” Luhan asked instead. He showed no indication that Minseok’s cold actions had affected him in any way.

“Art supplies. I graduated already,” replied Minseok curtly. He hoped this conversation would end quickly, hoped that Luhan would grow sick of Minseok’s impolite words that he was sure to spit at him in an attempt to drive the innocent boy away.

“You’re an artist? What kind of artist?” Luhan continued his interrogation, or at least that’s how it felt for Minseok. He was growing tired of the boy’s questions yet it wasn’t just that. He was afraid that he would begin to enjoy this boy’s company. And if he began to, then he would surely want more.

“I paint.”

Luhan’s mouth opened into a perfect “o” shape and he nodded. The boy seemed intrigued by this and Minseok couldn’t understand why. He observed the way the corner of the boy’s lips twitched up ever so slightly, the way his eyes roamed Minseok’s face drinking in every detail, the way his hand inched forward to wrap around Minseok’s arm. Minseok flinched and drew away glad that he was wearing a long sleeved shirt. And yet again, Luhan did not look offended when Minseok avoided his touch. He merely smiled.

“Do you do landscape paintings? Or paintings of people?”

“Landscapes.”

To be more specific, Minseok painted the sun. In every single painting he included that mix of orange and yellow that appeared in the sky. That dash of light and warmth people loved. The of his paintbrush were like his way of touching the sun. Splashing it across the canvas in an explosion of bright oranges, faded yellows, and searing reds.

“Can I see some of them?” asked Luhan.

“No. I have to go now. I’m late for an appointment,” Minseok responded automatically. He had to cut off his communication with this boy. If he showed him his paintings, it would lead to more. Maybe Luhan would want to accompany him while he painted one day, or he’d want Minseok to paint him. Whatever it was, Minseok couldn’t let their relationship or lack thereof get to that point. Because it was the point of no return.

Grabbing his backpack, Minseok slipped it on and stalked away not chancing a glance back at the boy. He didn’t say goodbye to Luhan but he had never said hello in the first place either. How could you say goodbye to someone you didn’t say hello to?

---

Luhan had been strolling in the park on his day off of work, Saturday to be exact, basking in the hot summer air. Dressed in a light grey t-shirt, a pair of tan cargo shorts, and a worn out pair of beige converse, Luhan was at the perfect temperature. He was neither too hot nor too cold. His clothes did a good job of keeping him cool under such blazing heat.

The Chinese boy had moved to Seoul because of his dreams to become a singer. His parents hadn’t approved of his decision but the boy packed up his room and left anyways. He had regretted not saying goodbye to his parents before he left but he did not regret leaving that day two years ago. Even if his dreams did happen to fall short. Countless auditions for several different companies amounted to an exhausted Luhan whose dreams went unaccomplished. They said he had the looks but not the voice, not the poise of a dancer, or the stage presence necessary for someone wishing to be an idol. When Luhan had called his parents and told him of this, they forgave him for leaving and told him it was a lesson he could learn from. That day, the boy had shed tears for the first time since he had left. Not for an unfulfilled dream but for the unconditional love his family still had for him.

Now, Luhan was a twenty-two year old who worked at a recording studio but not as a producer or as the person behind the glass, but as an assistant. He was the one who ran out to get coffee when the singer or the producer called for it. He worked a self-detrimental job, watching everyday as others lived the dream he failed to achieve. Luhan did not mind though. Just being in a recording studio gave him some sort of energy. Sometimes he would slip inside the booth when his boss wasn’t around and he would pretend to record a song he composed.

His boss had caught him one time and Luhan was afraid he would be fired. However, the tall, suave producer merely smiled and patted the boy on the head. It was hard to believe that this guy was actually a couple months younger than Luhan when he seemed so much more mature, when he had accomplished more than Luhan ever had. His boss was also Chinese, going by the name Kris, and moved to Seoul for the same reason as Luhan. He pursued his dream and succeeded, becoming one of the top producers in the music industry desired by top companies like YG, SM, and more.

Kris had said a few words to Luhan that day that the twenty-two year old was sure he’d never forget. “Luhan, you’re one stupid son of a for working here. But, you may also be one of the smartest people I’ve met.” The young producer didn’t say much after that, merely winking at his assistant to see if he could pick out the double meaning in his words.

Luhan had taken the words as a joke at first, more of Kris’s endless teasing. But, he soon began to see it in a different way. Yes, Luhan was an idiot for reminding himself every single day of his crushed dreams by going to that recording studio. However, he could also gain a lot from working there, picking up on techniques, learning about composition, and more. Maybe working there could be the tool kit Luhan needed to repair the shattered remnants of his dream. Maybe he wouldn’t be a singer but he could still be a producer like Kris or a composer that artists would pay huge money just for a minute long song of his.

That was a part of what made Luhan who he was. An optimist. An idealist. A dreamer. He didn’t believe in losing hope. Luhan was the type of person who could find warmth even in the dead of winter.

That day, on his day off of work Luhan never expected to fall for the one person who looked cold in the middle of summer. He wandered aimlessly through the park as beats, rhythms, melodies, and harmonies danced in his brain. Luhan was in the process of composing his very first song, lost in the music, when he laid eyes on the boy in the middle of the park wearing a black long sleeve shirt, a pair of skinny jeans, and gray converse. He was lying in the grass with eyes closed looking as if he was lost in memories.

Luhan’s eyes skimmed over the boy, taking in the fact that he had his arms folded across his chest as if he was hugging himself to keep warm. His round face with the slightly arched eyebrows, the delicate nose, and luscious lips that curved into a frown was mesmerizing. The backpack that was laying on the ground as if it carried the boy’s essentials to life indicated his attachment to whatever was in it.

Tiptoeing, Luhan made his way towards the boy. He knew that he was not asleep from the way the boy’s nose would twitch every so often or his eyes fluttered beneath his shut eyelids. Up close, the boy was even more breathtaking. Luhan fancied the boy’s soft looking cheeks and his pretty little eyelashes. His chestnut brown hair looked mussed as if the boy didn’t care for it or he ran his fingers through his hair often.

Luhan stood over the meditating boy and leaned over him. He was puzzled by his skin tone. How could it look so pale even during a sunny summer like this one? Luhan gazed at him and noticed that the boy looked cold still. It seemed like ice flowed in his veins rather than blood. Like under the boy’s skin was an internal freezer. It was confusing, intriguing, and bewildering.

The boy’s eyes snapped open and Luhan’s eyes grew a little wider in surprise especially when he felt the puff of air hit his face. He had shocked the boy for certain. Luhan began to soak in the details in the boy’s eyes. The color was so dark that his iris blended with his pupil. Luhan could see himself reflected in his eyes and he started to smile.

Luhan stood up straight. “Sorry to surprise you like that. I thought you were sleeping,” Luhan said. Although it wasn’t quite true. He knew that the boy had been awake.

The boy responded coldly and their conversation was frozen rigid by the boy’s curt answers. Luhan learned that his name was Minseok and that he was a painter. However, he did not paint people, he painted landscapes. When asked if he would show someone his paintings, Minseok had refused. Luhan found this fact amusing. What kind of artist did not let people see his work? He guessed that Minseok might have shown him if he wasn’t trying so hard to get Luhan off his back. It wasn’t hard to tell that Minseok had wanted nothing to do with Luhan. His words were short like knives, cold like icicles, brushing Luhan away.

Yet, Luhan couldn’t help but notice something in Minseok’s eyes. It had taken him a couple minutes of just gazing into those cool eyes for him to see it though. There was a sense of yearning in the artist’s eyes. A longing for something that Luhan couldn’t quite put his finger on. He thought that maybe Minseok was craving a companion, someone to fight away an artist’s loneliness. From that first encounter, Luhan wasn’t sure what he saw. He needed more than that to figure out the mystery behind the painter Minseok who only painted landscapes.

---

Their second encounter was two weeks later on another sunny Saturday. This time, Luhan was out running an errand for Kris who requested drinks for him and the rapper he was working with. Luhan had no complaints since he could see something sprouting between the two young men. The rapper with the midnight black hair and the intimidating eyes was charmed by the producer with the dirty blond hair. If things started escalating from the minimal amount of flirty eye contact, Luhan didn’t want to be there.

“’Get Tao and I some coffee from that one café by the Han River.’” Luhan mocked the way Kris had sent him off. “More like, ‘Get your out of here so I can make a move on this hot guy’.”

The Chinese boy rolled his eyes but despite his mockery and look of annoyance, he was happy for Kris. The guy deserved someone who could mix up his days of sitting in a studio working with singer after singer. There was always a certain glow to Kris’s face when a rapper came into his studio since the man had tiny dreams of being a rapper before.

Luhan was just about to walk into the café when he caught sight of a familiar head of chestnut brown hair, tussled like usual. Luhan’s lips tugged at the corners into a smile as he slunk towards the figure standing in front of a canvas dotted with summer colors. As Luhan approached the painter, he noticed that yet again he was dressed as if he was out in the middle of winter. This time, he even sported a light gray cotton sweater.

“That looks amazing so far,” Luhan said. He grinned at the boy’s reaction, watching as he dropped his palette and his paintbrush. He flinched and slowly turned around to face Luhan.

“W-where did you come from?” Minseok stammered. He was caught off guard. Luhan knew it otherwise Minseok would have snapped at him to go away. But, even if he did Luhan wouldn’t leave. The painter had an aura that drew Luhan in no matter how he tried to fight it.

“I was just out getting coffee. Is this your latest project? You’re very talented,” said Luhan while he stepped closer to inspect it. The feeling that Luhan got from the painting was a far cry from what he should have gotten. The canvas was decorated with the Han River, painted in varying shades of blue and green while the sun was peeking over the horizon with its pink, purple, and magenta rays exploding from it. It was certainly a summer painting but the feeling Luhan got was like he was standing out in a blizzard in the middle of December.

“Yes. And thank you,” replied Minseok briskly. He picked up his paint supplies and started putting them away. Luhan reached out to stop him and their hands almost touched, they would have if Minseok hadn’t flinched away. It was peculiar how the painter avoided skin contact with Luhan at all costs. It made Luhan want to touch him that much more.

“Why are you packing up? I wanna see you paint.” Luhan’s words came out more as a demand rather than a question. He didn’t mean it in a forceful way of course and Minseok didn’t read it that way.

“I have to go…” Minseok mumbled. He paused and remained frozen when Luhan started chuckling.

“You have to go? It didn’t seem like it. You looked like you were going to be painting for a while. Please continue. I don’t wanna slow you down in your project,” Luhan pressed.

Minseok turned his head away and sighed heavily. “Look, I didn’t want to be this straight forward with you but it seems like you won’t get it unless I am. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want you near me. And I definitely don’t want you watching me paint.” His words were clipped, driving their point to Luhan.

Minseok gasped and stumbled backwards when Luhan stuck his face right in front of his. Before the boy could land on his , Luhan grabbed both his arms and pulled him upright. Their bodies were pressed together for only a second as Minseok pushed away from Luhan. He staggered back a few feet, maintaining his distance.

Luhan remained still as Minseok packed up everything and scurried away. He was still going over the way their bodies brushed against one another for that instant. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but Luhan could have sworn that Minseok was ice cold.

Shaking his head, Luhan disregarded it as a mere illusion, an odd moment. He couldn’t let the painter leave like last time. He was determined to get more from him, to learn more about that painter who only drew landscapes that felt as if they were frostbitten.

Luhan ran for a couple of minutes and began to think that he had already lost the boy. He sat down on a bench by a bus stop and heaved a sigh. When he looked up again, he spotted Minseok going into a building that looked decrepit, as if it would collapse at any moment. He sprinted across the streets, narrowly missing oncoming traffic, until he reached the door. Without knocking, Luhan swung the door open and stepped inside.

---

Minseok had never imagined that he would see the boy with the beautiful eyes again. The boy named Luhan who he had never once said hello to yet so he couldn’t say goodbye. Panting, Minseok crouched down and shut his eyes tightly. Luhan was driving him insane. As much as he hated to admit it, Minseok couldn’t forget those eyes for the past two weeks.

“Is this your hideout? It’s pretty old don’t you think?” There was that voice again. The one that sung in Minseok’s mind and danced in his heart. “But, I like it. It’s vintage.”

“Stop. Just stop following me. Leave me the alone!” Minseok screamed in fury as he turned around to glare at the boy who was engraved in his mind. Luhan looked unaffected by Minseok’s outburst. He had the tiniest of smiles on his lips and Minseok groaned in aggravation. That smile of his was enough to drive Minseok up the wall.

“But, you seem lonely. I just wanna keep you company,” responded Luhan.

“I don’t need you to keep me company,” Minseok muttered bitterly. He wanted his bitterness and coldness to chase Luhan away. To make the boy run just like everyone else did. His eyes were fixed on the ground in front of him, knowing that if they met with Luhan’s his resolve might break.

A pair of feet appeared in front of Minseok and he was about to take a step back until Luhan grabbed his shoulders, locking him in place. With nowhere to go, Minseok cautiously lifted his chin to meet Luhan’s eyes. He gulped as he fell into them again. Their sincerity and beauty picking and smashing at all the walls he had built around him.

“There’s no need to be afraid. I can see it. You’re lonely, aren’t you Minseok? Please, just at least let me be your friend,” Luhan whispered. His eyes searched Minseok’s. Minseok knew that was it. Those words coupled with the boy’s intoxicating eyes were like the bulldozer that crushed Minseok’s walls.

“Fine. We can be friends,” Minseok said. He hadn’t uttered the word “friends” in a long time and saying it then tickled his tongue. He enjoyed it, especially since it was referring to Luhan.

“Good. Now let’s start from the beginning. Hello, my name is Luhan. Let’s be friends,” Luhan said.

“Hello Luhan. My name is Minseok.”

Luhan smiled at Minseok and this time, he didn’t offer his hand. Like Minseok had done before, he bowed his head slightly. The gesture was small and to anyone else it would have been insignificant but to Minseok it meant the world. His own lips curled up too and he felt the oddest sensation in his heart. It was different from the piercing cold he always felt. It was nice. He now managed to say hello to Luhan and hoped he would never have to say goodbye.

 ---

From then on, the pair met on Saturdays when Luhan was sent on errands by Kris. Just as Luhan had predicted, Kris and Tao had gotten together. Now, Luhan’s Saturday errands were more of an excuse for the couple to have alone time. Luhan didn’t care though. It only meant that he was able to go see Minseok.

Many Saturdays passed by and the pair of friends grew even closer. One Saturday, Minseok finally showed Luhan his paintings. Luhan admired each and every one of them but noticed one peculiar thing about them. None of Minseok’s paintings took place during winter. Each and every one had a spring, summer, or fall setting. And each painting featured the glowing orb known as the sun. Much like the first painting Luhan had seen, these paintings also felt cold.

The first time their skin touched was the day Luhan asked Minseok to be his boyfriend. The painter was reluctant at first but he agreed when Luhan flashed him his signature smile and his puppy look. Luhan had been so elated that he hugged Minseok tightly, pressing their cheeks together. Minseok had panicked when he felt Luhan’s skin touch his and he shoved the boy away.

Of course, right after Minseok was terribly apologetic. He said sorry over and over and Luhan merely shook it off with a laugh. Luhan noticed that Minseok was a little wary of Luhan after that, watching to make sure their knuckles wouldn’t brush together when they walked side by side. Luhan knew the reason why though.

When their cheeks touched, Luhan had felt the cold seep into him almost immediately. Minseok’s skin felt like he had been standing outside during a snow storm without a jacket. It was icy. Luhan guessed that Minseok was afraid of people’s reactions to his skin.

Luhan asked Minseok about it one day, about a week later, while they were lounging at Luhan’s apartment and the painter responded harshly. He turned away from his boyfriend and didn’t say a word for a moment.“I’ve always been like this. My skin is cold as ice. I’m cold everywhere. No matter what," he finally spat.

“I’m a freak,” he whispered. “That’s why no one should get close to me. I’ll just freeze them. Nobody likes the cold.”

Luhan saw the way Minseok’s shoulders trembled and his fists shook. The boy was fighting back tears. “Please, leave me alone,” he demanded although his voice quivered. Luhan stayed still for a second before taking a few steps to close the distance between them. He spun Minseok around and wrapped his arms around him. The small boy’s entire body shivered as Luhan rubbed circles on his back.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re not a freak. In fact, I think you’re beautiful. Winter has always been my favorite season,” Luhan murmured in Minseok’s ear. Minseok shivered again, but not from the tears or the cold.

“You’re just saying that, aren’t you?” he said.

Luhan pulled back from Minseok and gazed deeply into his eyes. Minseok in a breath, holding it as he fell into Luhan’s eyes. Placing both his hands over Minseok’s cheeks, Luhan smiled when he felt chilliness crawling on his skin. Minseok was shocked that Luhan didn’t pull away. He didn’t even flinch or shiver. It was as if the boy didn’t feel the cold at all.

“I love you Minseok. To me, you are the warmest person in the world,” Luhan breathed. Closing his eyes, he pulled Minseok to him and melded their lips together. Minseok’s eyes grew wide for a split second before his eyes shut. He had never kissed anyone before since he was certain that no one would ever want to kiss him. But here he was, his lips pressed against the lips of the man he loved. It was enticing.

Luhan carefully pulled away after a couple seconds and stared straight into Minseok’s eyes again. “I love you too Luhan,” Minseok murmured under his breath. With another smile, Luhan brought their lips together once again. This time, it was more urgent, more passionate. They stumbled from the living room and into Luhan’s bedroom, never breaking contact. Their hands molded together perfectly, complementing one another like fire and ice. Their fingers tingled from the mix of hot and cold radiating off of their skin like mixing ice into hot water to make the temperature just right.

Minseok tangled his fingers in Luhan’s hair, finally getting his wish. It truly was just as soft as he imagined it. The couple crashed onto Luhan’s bed, still lip-locked. They moved as one, hands roaming each other’s bodies, fingers clawing at fabric, teeth nibbling against skin and lip. Their limbs entangled. Minseok felt all the cold dissipate from him as he gave himself to the one person he loved most in the world.

And for the first time in his life, Minseok felt warm.

---

Thank you for reading everyone. Xiuhan forever!!! <3 :)