Sungyeol heaves as he looks away from the ceiling and towards the hand on his waist. He looks at the owner and a restricted smiles comes out from his face.

Myungsoo’s sleeping face is beautiful.

He raises his hand to remove the stray hair on the latter’s face but halfway through he pulls his arm back, biting his lips and tucking his hands away.

It wasn't his place to do such.

He looks at the alarm. half past 4. He’d been awake for the last 3 hours just thinking. He takes a breather before removing myungsoo’s hand from his body shuddering how much warmth myungsoo gave him, standing up and walking to where the couch is.

He looks at the window and despite not wanting it, reminisces.

Sungyeol is 4 years old. He’s still four years old and yet he knows how to act in front of others. How it is to fake a smile, his father told him never to frown at anyone. It was a disgraceful act.

He still remembers how his father had shouted at him after the party for going out to look at the first snow of December instead of entertaining the guests, how his father’s rage scared him, and how his mom looked at him in disgust, tucking away his 2 years old brother as if he was something tainted.

“You are an embarrassment!” Sungyeol’s father shouted at the top of his lungs, rage written all over his face as he looks at sungyeol disgustingly.

Sungyeol shakes at the sight and looks at his mother for help. Support. Anything.

He received none of that. He looks at his mother who looks at him like an animal, his tears threatening to fall as his child mind still couldn't comprehend what he did wrong.

“Go to your room” Sungyeol’s mother said as he pulls away daeyeol from stumbling on sungyeol.

Sungyeol remembers how his father never looked at him the same. Or maybe the affection was never there, he just didn’t notice it.

Sungyeol peaks at the door to the living room, wanting to look under the tree. He read in books that santa gives presents. he wants to look and yet he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he knows his parents are there. He doesn’t because he hears them laughing at how adorable his brother is. He is, sungyeol knows that.

He didn’t receive anything that Christmas.

Maybe he was naughty.

Sungyeol stands up and walks to the window leaning on the frame as he looks at the stars.

Sungyeol was 5 years old when there was a raging storm. He was scared and quivering in his room too big and dark for a child. He covers his ear with his shaking hand only to remove it right away when he hears his brother’s piercing scream.

He gets up from his bed, the sound of lightning lo