The air was chilly. The sky was clear. The ground was covered in a soft blanket of fresh snow. A boy, 17, was walking through a park. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and a smile graced his face as he watched children giggle and run around the cold metal slides and swings. Parents were sitting on the near by benches, enjoying the peace of the day. Kwangmin took a seat on an empty bench and pulled a sketchbook from his bag. He began to draw the scene in front of him.

A child in the middle of swinging, a little boy standing at the top of a slide, two girls in pink coats and purple hats chasing each other, a small boy in a red coat laying in the snow making a snow angel, all captured in lifelike detail graced the off white of the paper. Kwangmin's face was knotted in concentration, his grip on the pencil was light though. He soon felt a familiar warmth surrounding him, as if he was floating in warm water. This.was the feeling he always got when drawing. It was the reason he did it. His face relaxed and he sighed, happy to now just enjoy his free time.

About ten minutes later, he was getting cold so he set off to continue his walk. He slung the bag over his shoulder and pulled a pair of gloves on his ice cold hands. He followed the path that meandered through the bare woods. His steps were light. His pace was slow. Kwangmin wanted to enjoy the tiny rainbows being cast on the snow by the icecicles hanging from nearly every tree.

He started to notice somethong odd, though. The rainbows seemed to grow in number the further along he walked. Until he discovered a boy about the same age as himself laying in the snow, eyes closed. Kwangmin was taken aback at the grace and beauty of the boy. His hair was golden and reached the top of his shoulders. His skin was as pale as the snow he lay in, not a blemish was present. Hos lips were pink and full and the expression he wore, even with his eyes closed, was angelic. And looking closer, Kwangmin could make out the outline of pure white wings.

This was an angel.

Kwangmin approached the creature, hoping to wake it up and help it find its way home. He didn't know why but he tried to make as little noise as he could. He was now standing over the angel. He dropped to his knees next to it and gasped. It now became apparent that this angel looked exactly like him. Kwangmin pulled the gloves off his hands and lightly ran the pads of his fingers over the angel's cheek. His skin was warm.

The angel's eyes fluttered open at the touch and he smiled softly at Kwangmin. The human's heart melted. Kwangmin found himself abruptly being pulled on top of the angel and wrapped in his wings. That same feeling, the one he got while drawing enveloped him. The angel lightly pressed his perfect, warm, pink lips to Kwangmin's and Kwangmin felt like he could stay like this forever.

A voice, a soft, beautiful, happy, perfect voice sounded in Kwangmin's head.

Kwangmin, I am your gaurdian angel. My name is Youngmin. I have watched you grow into such a fine young man. Yes, I am the one who hugs you as you draw. Thank you for being so wonderful. But I must leave you. I have commited the ultimate sin. I have fallen in love with you. Thank you for everything. Kwangmin's eyes watered and he wrapped his arms around the angel. "You can't leave now. I just met you." The brunette sobbed.

"I have to go. It's so cold, Kwangmin. Will you keep me warm?" The blonde curled his wings tighter around the human and they both cried to sleep.

When Kwangmin woke up about an hour later, there was no sign of Youngmin. He reasoned that it must have been a dream but he never felt quite the same while drawing anymore. Years later, Kwangmin found a single, pure white feather laid in the middle of his bed, as if it had been waiting to see him.