The sound of bells reverberated across the city, bouncing off the scenic buildings and dainty rooftops that only added to picturesque beauty of Rome. People, mostly tourists, roamed the streets, rubbing their gloved hands together and tightening their coats to fight the harsh cold breeze. By the Fontana di Trevi, the ringing of church bells were drowned out by the rush of water from the fountain and noises from the growing crowd gathered around it.

Brown and curious eyes peeked from behind the highest sculpture, watching as children ran through the streets, dodging unsuspecting tourists as they went through photos on their cameras; tall and darker-skinned men sold lights that flew high up into the sky only to gracefully float back down, girls who stood with their backs to the fountain before throwing coins over their shoulders and giggling to themselves.

As the yellow spotlights meant to illuminate the fountain at night flickered on, multitudes of colors reflected the wide, doe-like eyes that watched the tiny figures below.

“Don’t be so afraid.” A flutter of wings and a soothing voice came from behind, “I’m sure you’ll do well this time.”

A soft sigh from parted lips, and a lowered head came the only reply.

“Do you not believe me?”

“No, it is just… what if I cannot find it? What if I fail again? Mother must already be so frustrated with me.”

“She could never be frustrated with you.”

“I am sure She is, I can tell.” Delicate hands came up to tug at short, brunette hair. “Why else would She give me a body so different from everyone else?”

“She gave you that body because She knew that you would still be able to find it despite that.”

Sad, shining eyes turned to look at the taller figure from behind, “But how I wish I had long hair, a slim waist and a soft voice like you do. It’s easy if you look like that, right? Finding love?”

 “You have a heart that can find a love much greater than I or any other of our kind ever can, and Mother believes that.” A sad, delicate smile. “Now, what was it again, your mortal name?”

“Donghae.”

“The sun has begun to hide—make haste, Donghae. The day of Valentine is approaching.”

- - -

He walked through the streets, stunned by the proximity of the lights and the sounds of cars as they zoomed by. He had grown used to the safety of rooftops, high up and far away from the humans who Donghae had begun to both fear and admire. The absence of his wings made him feel insecure, though he knew he’d slowly grow used to it.

He was on a mission, and this time, he was determined not to come back empty-handed. Mother may have erased his memories every year—these are painful, She said, you mustn’t have them, a heart so pure mustn’t have them—but Donghae knew enough to say that this was already his fifth attempt at finding love.

He wasn’t going to fail her this time.

He weaved through the crowd, camera clutched tightly in his hands. Humans fascinated Donghae. Humans, as well as the structures they create. The stoned streets and antique buildings, elegant lampposts and majestic churches—Roma had been his home for as long as he could remember; yet Donghae would fall a little more in love with it everyday.

- - -

Love?
What is love, Mother?
Please. Tell me.

- - -

The sky began to darken as he walked aimlessly down the streets, past the Pantheon and the Spanish steps, the many churches and small antique shops selling wooden clocks and variations of Pinocchio. Donghae snapped shots, capturing children and their mothers, families on vacation, couples in matching jackets, girls huddling together as they bashfully asked for a photo with him. He smiled.

Streetlights flickered on, painting the buildings and shops in a yellow tinge. Donghae felt the humanity in him awaken through the grumbling of his stomach, and he smiled as he made his way to the alley of restaurants.

Waiters stood along the sidewalks, greeting people as they passed and enticing them with their specialty dishes. Donghae smiled politely in decline as he walked past them, not too sure what his body wanted and still a bit afraid to interact with humans—especially indulging salesmen. He stopped at the corner, staring up at a large menu posted on the wall.

He was taught how to read before Initiation, but he hadn’t done it in so long. Donghae squinted at the words, putting the letters very slowly together that he hadn’t noticed someone coming up to him.

“You look like you need some pasta.” Donghae snapped his head at the voice, staring wide-eyed at the lean waiter. “No? That’s weird, and here I thought people loved Italian food for the pasta.”

Donghae could only watch him with parted lips, slightly panicking at the growing warmth in his cheeks. The waiter began reading the entire menu to him, complete with descriptions and an amiable smile. Halfway through, he stopped and Donghae frowned at the sudden silence because he actually liked the color of his voice.

“You understand English, right?” The waiter looked embarrassed, and Donghae couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Y-yes!” He blurted louder than intended, and the other looked up at him in shock. “Yes, I understand…” Donghae shrank under his gaze. Human. Human. Human.

“That’s good then. Sometimes, I just keep talking and talking but no one understands me.” He had a slight accent, probably from working here because he didn’t look like a local nor did he look Italian. Donghae began to nod as he picked up where he left off, and the waiter laughed under his breath. Cute.

Donghae was led to a small table outside the restaurant. He sat down; looking a bit dazed and lost at the menu as he tried to recall what the waiter read to him. A beep sounded from above, and Donghae felt warmth pierce through the cold breeze.

“Better?” The waiter stood with a smile, holding the remote to the heater. “I’m Hyukjae, and I’ll be serving you tonight. You look like you need some help.” He gestured to the menu, “Shall I just whip up our best seller for you?”

Donghae nodded his head furiously with a wide grin in place; grateful and glad he didn’t need to communicate too much because Hyukjae spoke enough for both of them.

“Okay then,” But just as he turned to leave, Hyukjae felt a tug on his cuff and turned back to the brunette, “Is something wrong, signor?”

“Hyukjae, I like spicy.”

He stared dumbfounded at the excitement in Donghae’s eyes and subtly gulped, “Spicy it is.”

After fumbling with his fork, Donghae eventually got the hang of using his hands and very slowly ate his plate of pasta. He munched and watched as people walked past the shop and down the streets. He would set his fork down and take photos from his seat, smile at the dogs that passed by, most of which would jump around at his feet, the tourists that stopped at souvenir shops, groaning about how things were cheaper here and there, and unconsciously, his gaze would reach Hyukjae serving tables and Hyukjae taking down orders and Hyukjae reading the menu.

Hyukjae wasn’t tall, but he was lean. Hyukjae moved with confidence, spoke with conviction, and lured customers in with his witty remarks and cute English. Hyukjae carried plates and glasses in his hand without even the slightest wobble, and Hyukjae always dropped by to make sure his glass was filled with water. Hyukjae smiled at him when he caught him staring. Hyukjae was smiling at him right now. Hyukjae was coming closer and closer.

Hyukjae was so near now that Donghae could smell him.

“We’re closing up soon.”

Only then did Donghae become acutely aware of the emptied seats and silenced streets. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but a hand is held out to him and Hyukjae smiles so bright that Donghae forgets how to think. He asks if he had the honor of taking him out for a walk, to watch the stars and to listen to the sounds of Rome. Donghae thinks it’s human customary to say yes. Hyukjae’s hand is soft in his and he feels knots in his stomach. Briefly, Donghae wonders if it was food poisoning from the pasta. 

Donghae also wonders if Hyukjae can help him find love.

- - -

There was once a time when all the emotions
lived on a secluded Island.
Happiness, anger, sorrow, jealousy, pride—
all of them lived there.

- - -

The lights are bright and the stoned streets feel uneven against Donghae’s leather boots. Hyukjae had let go of his hand in fear of making the brunette feel uncomfortable when really, he meant well, and settled with walking close enough for the shoulders to occasionally brush. They walked along the shops and fountains, Hyukjae with his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket and Donghae walking slowly beside him, staring at his hand in curiosity.

Hyukjae spoke of Rome, the tourist spots and where to find the cheapest food. He spoke of the flowers that bloom in spring and the bright blue skies of summer. He would glance at Donghae from time to time; flash a shy smile that made his eyes wrinkle at the edges before jumping right back into talk of the bus routes to the city. Donghae closed and opened his hand as Hyukjae spoke, not really listening to the words but to the tones his voice created, until his gaze reached the bulk of Hyukjae’s jacket where his hands were buried.

Hyukjae froze midsentence at the feeling of fingers slowly encircling his wrist and watched as Donghae pulled his hand out of his jacket, only to clasp it with his. The warmth that spread from his palm to his fingers made Donghae smile as if he’d finally found the answer to a puzzle he’d long been trying to solve.

“Your hand…” he said, “feels so good.”

Hyukjae stared at him for a good three seconds before he fought the blush at the implication of his words, and promptly dragged Donghae to the Fontana Di Trevi because it was beautiful for dates at night. And he just really, really needed to sit down.

- - -

“I do not know you.”

Hyukjae turned to the brunette who’d interrupted his monologue on the history of the fountain. He had his head tilted up at the sky, his gaze fixed on the stars before landing on him. Hyukjae would have felt discouraged—had he been too forward? Too talkative? Was he going to get rejected so early in the game? —If not for the way Donghae’s hand squeezed his and the conflicted look of sadness and curiosity in his eyes. The brunette was not one for words, Hyukjae could tell that much, and maybe this was his way of saying tell me more about yourself.

Maybe, maybe not.

“I was born in Seoul, South Korea.” He began slowly and gauged Donghae from the corner of his eye, smiling when he felt him inch closer. “My parents didn’t have much to provide for my sister and I. She dropped out of high school and began working to earn enough to get at least me to graduate college. I worked hard, took many part-time jobs, and managed to graduate well enough to land me a job here in Europe. It was scary but I figured it was my only ticket to getting food on the table for my aging parents. But things didn’t go too well at the Travel agency that hired me, so I broke it off with them after a year.”

Hyukjae leaned back and supported his weight with his hands as the sounds of water flowing from the fountain filled the comfortable silence.

“Now I have about five different tiny jobs that I actually enjoy juggling around. My sister writes me letters from time to time, they still think I’m with the Travel agency and they sound so proud of me and I…honestly, I don’t know how to—I’m afraid. I haven’t seen them for almost four years.”

Donghae watched Hyukjae in fascination, the conflicting emotions and the color of his voice. This human, he decided, he liked this human. He is sincere. Donghae could feel the warmth of his heart and watched as a grin broke out onto Hyukjae’s face.

“But I like drinking from juice boxes and strolls in a park. I used to dream of dancing onstage and becoming a star. I can’t take a bath with cold water because it freaks me out. I have a small apartment that I pay for monthly, it’s a very neat apartment I must say, and I really, really like beef. And peanut butter.”

“Together?”

“No, but that sounds worth trying.”

They smiled at each other and slowly broke out into fits of laughter neither really understood. Eventually, the sounds of flowing water drowned out their sudden outburst and Donghae leaned his head on Hyukjae’s shoulder in silent thanks. He never knew humans could be so trusting and warm. Or maybe it was just Hyukjae?

“I am looking for something.” Donghae said before he could catch himself.

“And what is that?”

“I...” Mother forbids them of telling humans about their mission, “…I cannot say.”

“Oh,” Hyukjae sounded disappointed and Donghae wanted to hit himself for telling him about this in the first place. But then Hyukjae turned to him with a kind smile, “Well, is it here in Rome?”

“I am certain it should be.”

“Then I can help you look for it!”

Huh?

“Tomorrow…” Hyukjae fumbled with their entwined hands on his lap then looked up at him with a shy grin, “tomorrow, I have an afternoon off and you’re free so—wait, are you free? I’m sorry I’m assuming too much, can I start again? I mean you’re free, well maybe you are, it’s okay if you’re not, and I’m free and uhm, maybe we could be free together? I know Rome really well so maybe I could help you find what you’re looking for? Great now I sound like I want to elope with you and I said ‘maybe’ too much, aish…”

Donghae laughed and pressed the back of Hyukjae’s hand on his cheek, “You are very sweet.”

Hyukjae didn’t understand how or why he stumbled over his words like that, but was glad he did because he swore he saw stars in Donghae’s eyes that night.

- - -

Then, am enormous storm hit the island
and all the emotions scrambled to
shore to ride escape boats.
But Love walks very slowly, so when Love reached
the shore, all the boats were gone.

- - -

Hyukjae, Donghae decides, is even sweeter during day.

They met at a small café where Hyukjae apparently