Ren hoops colored strings through the bag, though it’s something stubborn to do, he finds it oddly relaxing. He must’ve tied this exact bag a thousand times but he just continues to loosen it and rehoop it just the same.

And when the clock strikes nine, Ren immediately gets up and walks to the kitchen where Baekho’s washing the dishes and stands by him, waiting expectantly. Baekho stops the water with the back of his wrist, or at least attempts to awkwardly, the water then shuts off on his own and hands abruptly dried.

Ren really was impatient. The witch closes his eyes and continues waiting with hands behind his back. Baekho leans forward and kisses him on the forehead.

Ren beams, this was always his ideal way to start off a morning.

“Take care of yourself, I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Have you ever?” Ren challenges. He prided himself with never being wounded, Baekho gently pats his cheek and cups his face.

“Just be careful,” Baekho murmurs and gives him another chaste kiss. The witch just smiles.

Baekho’s worries may have been unjustified, but Ren just accepted the benefits that came with it.

“I’m going against a really powerful one today,” Ren slyly adds and Baekho just brings him into a tight hug.

Ren didn’t lie. His current foe was extremely intimidating, but the witch had barely any trouble with it. Still, he’s a bit bitter with how long it lasted and trudges home.

The witch returns to a clean home, massaging his sore arm as he plops down on the couch and reaches over for the locked chest. Around its wooden floors are many scorch marks, Baekho could never quite get those off.

There was a little spell in place that Ren set up the moment they lived together. If anyone dared to hurt Baekho or his treasured box, the scorch marks would harm them instantly. He opens it and cradles a tiny purple stringed bag.

The generations in his life held to some traditions, some from witchcraft, others family borne. Colors were always done to bag to signify and help label their products, purple was a favorite color amongst most of them and began to hold a meaning.

When he sees his grandmother holding a book in her grasp always wrapped in purple clothes, his father holding the family crest inside it, Ren sees that it cherishes.

The witch closes his eyes, and the memory forms instantly as if he’s reliving the scene.

“Is Baekho in?” Ren had asked the receptionist. She looked surprised as she takes in the young man’s appearance and apologized. That same look was on everyone’s face whenever he was with Baekho really...

Ren managed to find him in a nearby hotel inside an empty convention room, surrounded by messy stacks of papers that were covering every inch of the floor. Ren is inwardly pissed that his colleagues would leave him here to clean this up, and decided a few cars outside weren’t leaving the parking lot.

“Ren?” Baekho asked. “What are you doing here?” He looked pleasantly surprised and Ren was glad about that, but he reserved feeling truly happy about it.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Ren declared and sees Baekho stop collecting his pages, standing up fully.

Ren just says it upfront without a second of hesitation. “I’m a witch.”

Baekho blinked and immediately narrowed his eyes. “Who called you that?” Baekho asked in offense, “you’re anything but.”

Ren bit his cheek and decides a demonstration is in order. With a single finger, the scattered pages go into a perfect stack. The fan in the corner turns on without a plug and the tables moves a few feet on his own, he waits for Baekho to realize what’s going on.

He knows Baekho would deny anything he’s seen first. And just waits until it clicked.

“You... really are.”

At that, Ren makes everything stop. “I am.” Ren admitted who he was if he wanted a real friendship with them, he refused to hold secrets with those he cared about. As for Baekho, he was beginning to.

“Did you make me start liking you?” Baekho asked seriously.

Ren blinked at the declaration within his question, but shook his head. “I mean, I could do that. But I’d prefer it if you fell for me from your own accord. Although if you don’t accept that I am one, you may want to run before I cast a spell on you.” He said rather spitefully in case Baekho decided to hold a pitchfork against him.

Baekho took a moment to process everything and Ren impatiently shifted on spot, he needed to know for certain.

Baekho then slumped his face into his hands, Ren arched an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Baekho refused to look up. “I...  I can’t believe I told you how I feel.“

The human was in total embarrassment over his subtle confession, and knowing that was what troubled him from everything they spoke about, then Ren felt he had little to worry about. Even with his good feeling, this was much more than he expected out of the encounter.

Ren slowly opens his eyes, the open bag still in his hand. He sees that it’s slightly dark outside now, and a blanket is placed over him. The witch stands up immediately and rushes to find him.

He sees the bathroom light on, he peeks inside and sees Baekho adjusting the fedora on his head. The witch watches in amusement as Baekho attempts to fix the hat in many ways, not satisfied with each position.

And when Baekho looks to his left, he looks embarrassed at being seen. He steps out of the bathroom and asks quietly. “What do you think?”

Ren just stares.

Baekho was increasingly unsettled by the long gaze the witch held, a habit of the witch’s. And when there’s an odd fascination to Ren’s gaze and Baekho feels he’s done the right thing.

Ren reaches forward and tilts the fedora differently, not in the way he’s seen Aron tilt it over and fixes it so he could see properly. And at that, Ren gives an approving nod as he slides his finger on the ridge of his hat.

“You pull it off quite well.” He compliments. “It’s not too late... would you like to share a drink with me and maybe watch a movie?” Ren tugs on his sleeve without waiting for an answer. They briefly part as Ren walks to the kitchen.

Baekho is resonated at his accomplishment and raises his hand in triumph. When he checks the mirror again, he freezes.

“Purple suits you best.” Ren utters to the man’s silent question and returns with two cups in hand. And though Baekho’s hat’s is still black, the silver band around it was now a vibrant dark shade of purple.

Baekho tilts his head and sees that it does, “then is that why you always assign me purple?”

Ren gives a small smile and Baekho feels there’s more to it, but is distracted as Ren hands over his cup of tea. Ren reaches up to fix his hat and Baekho chuckles nervously, being under his intense gaze was doing wonders to his heart. Though his hands are now warm, he feels the heat rise to his neck and slowly to his cheeks.

Ren observes every bit of this and is triumphant in his own right. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. The color purple suited him perfectly.

They settle for a random film with Ren huddled against him and relaxes for the night, the small bag cradled in his hand. Inside his purple laced held nothing to the average eye, but to the witch, it held folded memories.

To most, they’d be seen as simple, insignificant memories the witch shared with Baekho. Then the question is: Why?

Simple, he thinks as he curls up against him as Baekho holds him protectively. There was nothing he wanted to forget.

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