Winter Days

Sunlight streams into Youngjae's room in generous gushes, drawing a stark contrast with the freezing temperature. Chilliness clouds the room as Youngjae remains cross-legged on his bed, scribbling numerals all over his notepad. As the digits begin to accumulate, an endless trail of bills out from his file, a heavy weight rests upon Youngjae's shoulders. At this rate, he may not even be able to last till the end of winter before having to ask for financial help from his parents.

Youngjae nibbles on his lip, tapping against the calculator and observing with a grimace as the number grows larger. There's no escaping it; he must definitely cut back on his spending. I may have to forgo the flowers every time I visit Minhyun, Youngjae broods in his mind, thinking of any corners he can cut off in his expenditure. The strain of having two extra mouths to feed is no doubt difficult to combat, even with the two brothers doing their best to conserve on expenses. Daehyun has taken to bathing in the dark along with the heater switched off, stating he does not like the glare from the lights anyway.

Youngjae looks around his room to see if there's any junk he can possibly sell off, musing thoroughly. He glances to the guitar in the corner, one he had played throughout his high school days when he still loved singing. He crawls over to it and peruses it, running a hand down its fingerboard. I'm not using it anyway. He thoughtfully dusts it.

A sudden knock startles Youngjae and he rises, Daehyun peeking in. Youngjae flashes him a small smile and hastily stashes away the numerous invoices on his mattress into his drawer.

"Do you mind if I come in?" Daehyun asks, a strained grunt to his timbre.

"Sure," Youngjae hums and settles on the edge of the bed. Daehyun lugs a sleeping Junhong in, surprising Youngjae as the nurse makes space for the boy. Daehyun looks troubled, fretting silently as he takes a seat by Youngjae's side.

"Everything okay?" Youngjae gently questions, earning an assuring, masking smile from Daehyun.

"Yeah." They glance over to Junhong sleeping like a log, his brows furrowed subtly.

"He's sleeping in today, hm?" Youngjae tenderly weaves a hand through Junhong's hair, sensing a tad bit more heat than usual emanating from the boy. Daehyun hums, listlessness in his tone. Youngjae shifts and places a hand over Daehyun's shoulder.

Daehyun sighs and slouches slightly, clearly ruminating. Youngjae patiently waits for him to speak while scouring the room for more unwanted items to put up on sale.

"Junhong woke up in the middle of the night again..." Youngjae returns his attention to Daehyun promptly and presses his lips together. He veers his worried gaze to Junhong, watching the frail boy's chest rise and fall shallowly.

It's supposedly been common that Junhong has nightmares, only that Youngjae had not known since the brothers have been sleeping in their own room. Daehyun had kept it to himself since it would do no good to burden Youngjae. This only came to light after they slept together a few times, Junhong having tossed and turn before frantically waking up, bleating fearfully for Daehyun.

Daehyun had told Youngjae of a time where some hooligans had come to pick on Junhong and him while they were sleeping in an alleyway. They had caught sight of Daehyun but not Junhong, who had been wrapped up in a tattered sack, and tauntingly neared him. Daehyun had swiftly hidden an abruptly awoken Junhong amongst the garbage cans and told him to keep quiet.

Daehyun stood no chance against five and he was badly beaten up, bruises ingrained relentlessly into his flesh and blood trickling from his jaw and nose. He had collapsed and drifted into unconsciousness, waking up to find Junhong gone. The town hall clock told him he had been unconscious for just fifteen minutes or so, but there had been absolutely no traces of Junhong.

Daehyun had flown into full-blown hysteria, staggering down the street in distraught to find Junhong. With his blurry vision, he had strained himself and managed to discern a small figure kneeling outside the bar, a man towering over him. He had stumbled forward hastily to see Junhong sobbing, hands clasped together with his knees on the cold asphalt. The bartender had supposedly just closed the bar and he was staring down at the crying child in consternation.

Daehyun's account had drawn tears from Youngjae's eyes. Junhong had been begging for the owner to help his brother, wailing so grievously Daehyun stopped in his lurch, unable to bring himself forward.

Since that incident, Junhong has had trouble falling asleep soundly. Now, with a roof over their heads, his insomnia has alleviated, but he still randomly wakes up at night, frenziedly searching for Daehyun.

As of now, the only thing they can do to assuage his paranoia is to comfort him whenever he jolts awake, but both of them are worried Junhong may suffer from it long-term.

"We'll find a solution," Youngjae comforts, Daehyun's arm and deviating his grip to Junhong. Youngjae gently caresses Junhong's cheek and lets out a lengthy breath, feeling helpless. He has considered therapy for the boy, but they can't afford it now—and the thought of it is depressing. Junhong stirs from his sleep and Youngjae retracts his hand, letting Daehyun pull Junhong into his arms. Junhong blearily flutters open his eyes and he instinctively grapples at the air, stopping when he grips onto Daehyun's shirt.

"Hyung?" Junhong sleepily blubbers. Daehyun hums a low tune and pats Junhong's head tenderly. "Mm. Hyung's here."

Junhong nods groggily and squirms, nestling his face against Daehyun's chest. He blinks away sleep gradually, finally getting up after a moment and beaming at Youngjae.

The three settle down in the kitchen, Junhong sitting in Daehyun's lap and squeaking every once in a while when Daehyun randomly bounces the boy up. Youngjae muffles back a laugh and makes a sandwich each for the two boys. He notes the slices of bread left and takes one mere slice for himself, spreading butter over and munching on it.

Junhong seems particularly quiet today. Youngjae does not have enough time to brood on the boy's toned down mood, however, a quick glance to the clock hastening his movements. The three of them quickly wash up and head out of the house, Junhong uncharacteristically silent as they board the bus. Daehyun stares down worriedly and questions, "Are you okay, Junhong?"

Junhong perks up at Daehyun and flashes a toothy grin, nodding. "Mm. Hyung, it's your first day at work. Remember! You have to do your best!" Despite lacking his usual luster, Junhong's words are still merry as ever. Daehyun chuckles and lays Junhong back against his chest, nudging Junhong's thigh jokingly.

"Why should I listen to you?" Daehyun teases. Junhong pouts and tosses back, "Hyung, you were the one who said that last night. You said you wanted to impress-"

Daehyun clasps a hand over the boy's mouth, muffling his voice and shushing him hastily. Youngjae raises a brow in amusement and Daehyun waves it off, inciting a chuckle from Youngjae. "Impress who, hm?" Youngjae echoes.

Junhong clambers up and pries Daehyun's fingers from his lips, blathering, "You, hyung!"

Daehyun groans under his breath as Junhong cheekily beams up at the two, Youngjae flushing and simmering into laughter. Junhong squeaks when Daehyun flicks his forehead gently, nursing it with a pout.

"What he means is I'll do my best," Daehyun clarifies, grinning broadly. "For us."

It's almost natural for Youngjae to melt into the same b smile, just that, because he can think of nothing that will suffice for a good answer.

The bus rumbles, bustling chatter drifting around them. "You know, I really wish I could see you in action," Youngjae muses playfully. "I'm excited. I don't know if it's because it's your first day or because you've got a job at the arcade."

"You're excited over me working at an arcade? Do you want to work there too?" Daehyun teases. Youngjae nudges Daehyun lightly, both of them deliquescing into their own bout of laughter.

Winter melts against the bus windows, feathery kisses of snow drifting within mid-morning. The passing cars are drizzled with white, ruby and emerald lights peeking through the mist. The modest shophouses lining the streets catch snowflakes on their awning as do the pedestrians' bulky coats.

"I'm glad your manager allowed you to bring Junhong along. I don't want him to come to the hospital so often." Youngjae's taps Junhong's nose and the boy snivels it up, getting onto his knees and tapping Youngjae's nose as well. Daehyun extends a finger and does the same, Youngjae blinking in bewilderment.

Youngjae narrows his eyes and threateningly reaches out both his hands, pinching the siblings' cheeks. Daehyun melts into a goofy grin and he cups the cheek Youngjae had touched, looking downwards.

They bask in a peaceful silence, rumble of the engine a consistent drone comforting to the ears. Sketched into Daehyun's irises is once again a trace of fog, his look perhaps a rightful personification of winter. Youngjae shakes away the strange idea—how could Daehyun and winter be compared? Winter freezes time into unforgiving rigidity, chugging day through brutal winds and demanding its surrender in the night.

Youngjae alights and waves, observing Junhong for a moment as concern settles upon his shoulders. His sixth sense has always been particularly spiked around children. Youngjae forces himself to shelve the thought as he clocks in, greeting the numerous young patients with bright smiles. There have been several discharges and Youngjae is looking forward to more kids going home to toasty fireplaces and familial warmth. The bleached walls of the hospital have always been to cold for his liking.

Break comes and Youngjae ambles with the other nurses to the food court. He weaves through the crowd to the usual store before halting, thumbing through his wallet. He doesn't need to get something; he'll have dinner later, anyway.

Youngjae takes a seat and waits for the other nurses to gather. Sunhwa is the first to arrive and she questions with brows raised, "Youngjae, you aren't getting anything to eat?"

Youngjae smiles amiably and shakes his head, patting the wallet in his pocket. "Not hungry."

Jieun pops over and frowns, remarking, "You should eat still. You haven't had your lunch."

"It's alright, noona," Youngjae assures and swiftly changes the topic. "Hyosung-noona told me someone wandered into the Children's Emergency?"

"Oh my god." Jieun sighs raggedly and sets her plate down, shaking her head. "Yeah, it was a high schooler. She got lost and dear god, I nearly freaked out. There was a minor surgery ongoing in one of the open wards and she was just three beds away."

Jieun continues to ramble as their other colleagues join them, chatting heartily. Youngjae's stomach lowly grumbles but he suppresses the urge to eat, envisioning Junhong proudly wearing a gorgeous set of school uniform. He melts into a fond smile and a sudden embarrassment overtakes him as Sunhwa notices, wiggling her brows. He's beginning to treat Junhong more and more like his own child.

"It's nice to see you happier nowadays," Sunhwa mentions, Jieun thinning her lips and clearly nudging Sunhwa under the table due to the other nurse's uncharacteristic yelp. The topic of Minhyun has never been brought up explicitly when Youngjae is around, not even a brief mention, for all the staff are aware of how badly affected Youngjae was with Minhyun's passing.

The memory is bittersweet. Youngjae still remembers Minhyun looking out of the window and admiring the scenery, gushing over the white falling endlessly into a shield of impenetrable ice. Youngjae would tuck Minhyun back into bed when he shivered, patting the blanket up to his chin and gently ruffling his hair. It was disheartening to see Minhyun constantly alone for his parents had to work excessively to pay for his treatment, but Minhyun never let his smile fall. He always talked of the future, of many creative, out of the box ideas. He dreamt of opening a hospital where the poor would be able to seek help for free. He drew elaborate playgrounds where the sun never set so children with no homes to go back to would forever be able to play there. He would talk of a special type of strawberry milk that would make everyone in the world healthy, so no one would have to suffer like him and the other sick children.

It's eccentric to think of Minhyun as pure like whiteness, when the merciless season during which he passed on is nothing but white. Of course, Youngjae cannot blame winter solely for Minhyun's death, but the spike in cardiovascular deaths in winter had spoken an eerie omen that Youngjae prayed would not come true.

"Is it because of your boyfriend?"

The sudden question snaps Youngjae out of his trance and he glances to Sunhwa, blinking rapidly. Jieun cranes her neck with wide eyes and the other staff members glance over in curiousity.

"You're gay?" Jieun whistles, pursing her lips in intrigue.

Sunhwa cheekily snaps her fingers and Youngjae flushes darkly, spouting hastily, "Noona, I told you, I'm not dating. Daehyun is my roommate."

"Roommate who lives with you for free, oh, how kind, Youngjae," Sunhwa sings tauntingly.

Another nurse, Bom, chides, "Hey, Youngjae, even if he's your crush, you can't let him walk all over your head like that! He's going to go from leeching off your house to leeching off your bank account."

"Noona," Youngjae puffs, "he's not my crush! He's just living with me!"

The gossiping staff turn a deaf ear to the poor, flushed nurse.

"Is he handsome?" Ryeowook giggles.

Sunhwa takes a deep breath and sighs wistfully, "Definitely. He has a rogue look and only God knows how much I dig that manly look. A bit bony, though, but kind of muscular too? I don't really know how to say it."

"Then don't," Youngjae mutters, sulking to himself as the nurses completely disregard his sullen look.

Sunhwa finally breaks out into a laugh and folds her arms across the table, cajoling, "Fine, I'll stop teasing you. But seriously, your man, I mean, roommate is handsome."

"You sound like you want to get to know him," Youngjae jokingly poses back.

Sunhwa's eyes fly wide open and she inclines over the table enthusiastically. "I mean, well, if you're not interested-"

"You have a blind date tomorrow, Sunhwa. Need I remind you?" Jieun prods Sunhwa back into her seat as the nurse pouts.

As Youngjae chuckles, Jieun leans over and hums, "You should find someone for yourself though, Youngjae. You have such a pretty face. I heard a lot of girls dig the 'pretty boy' look nowadays."

Youngjae shakes his head and grins. "I like being single. More pampering myself."

Sunhwa snorts and flicks Youngjae's forehead. "No, really, Youngjae. You should consider getting a girlfriend—or a boyfriend. Just someone you can depend on. You live all alone in Seoul. Your parents are in Mokpo, right?"

Upon receiving a nod, Sunhwa presses, "See, that's why you need to find yourself a partner to count on."

Youngjae makes a face, the prospect sitting with him uncomfortably. It has been a very, very long time since he has dated. Back in his first year of college, he had dated another nursing student named Jisook, but they broke up as they both agreed they were more friends than lovers. After that, Youngjae had been too focused on his studies, and ever since he began working, he has never entertained the thought of having someone else in his life despite lonely nights and chilling walks back home alone.

It just doesn't feel good imagining someone by his side. In fact... it sounds scary, if Youngjae dares admit it. He squirms at the weird revelation—he has always been shy and quiet, but never thought he was averse to getting into a relationship. What exactly is he afraid of?

Work calls, cutting short his ruminating and leaving him at a dead end. Evening sets in, dying the quilt of snow across Seoul with a light salmon pink. The tint somehow makes the snow coat more humane, some drains clogged up with the ice and the many boots sloshing through the snow.

Youngjae lingers by the window with an enthusiastic toddler in his grasp, patting against the sealed shut glass window. Suhyun had been admitted two days ago, the small girl bubbly despite being unable to speak yet.

Once Youngjae's shift ends, he instantly reaches for his phone. He widens his eyes to find the many missed calls and swiftly dials Daehyun back.

Daehyun picks up quickly. "Hello?"

"Daehyun," Youngjae chimes. "How was it?"

"It... was okay." He sounds troubled.

Youngjae grasps the phone tighter and asks softly, "Did it not go well?"

"Ah, no," Daehyun distractedly answers, voice muffled over the phone. "It went fine."

He drifts off into quietness, the background murmur of the streets dwindling in the sunset. Youngjae questions, "Then, what's wrong?"

A pregnant pauses fills the cold, crackling reception, and Daehyun finally mumbles, "I think Junhong's sick." He says it with conviction, less meaning to his two careful words in front like a safety net for taboo words.

"He didn't play much today. He keeps saying nothing's wrong but he looks really tired and he told one of the kids playing that he has a headache and his back hurts."

"He didn't want to eat lunch, doesn't want to eat dinner either." The phone audibly shifts.

"...He's burning up a little," Daehyun says, consternation wafting through his voice.

Youngjae furrows his brows and asks, "Where are you two?"

"We're at the bus-stop now," Daehyun returns.

"Okay. Bring Junhong back first. There's a clinic a few blocks away from that noodle restaurant we went to. Can you go take a number?"

"Ah, okay." Daehyun halts for a moment, and his next words come slow and heavily conflicted. "But..."

"Don't worry about the costs," Youngjae assures. "I'll meet you at the clinic."

Youngjae puts down the phone and ruminates worriedly, arousing other harrowing thoughts. It's likely he's come down with the flu, nothing too serious, but Junhong's current weakened immune system is a problem in itself. Youngjae doubts Junhong has gotten vaccinated over the years, what with his hectic life at home. Having just recently escaped his nutrient deficiency, he'll be particularly susceptible to a whole array of illnesses.

Taking the bus back, Youngjae alights a few stops earlier and wanders into the clinic. He spots Daehyun sitting in a corner with Junhong curled up in his arms, blinking sluggishly. Daehyun catches sight of Youngjae and spares him a small smile, before snapping his head to the number screen upon hearing a buzz.

Junhong is diagnosed with the flu and prescribed some medicine, the sick boy softly spouting denials as the doctor takes his temperature. Youngjae pays the bill swiftly, folding the receipt to prevent Daehyun from looking at it.

They take Junhong home. Daehyun promptly wraps up Junhong in a blanket and Youngjae brings him a glass of warm water.

Daehyun lets out a lengthy breath, crouching by Junhong's bedside. The nurse joins him and kneels down, Junhong churning out a toothy smile.

"Hyung..."

Youngjae chuckles softly and takes out the syrup. He shakes it and soothes, "It's strawberry flavoured. You like strawberries, right?"

Junhong beams and nods, sitting up when Daehyun helps him up. Youngjae washes the spoon and feeds Junhong the medicine, patting his head as he obediently slurps it up. He plops back onto the bed and shivers momentarily, tugging the blanket up to his chin.

"How are you feeling?" Youngjae asks, Junhong's belly lightly. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

Junhong hums and shakes his head, though Youngjae has noticed he winces every now and then. Youngjae grabs a thermometer and places it under Junhong's tongue, glancing to the screen. 38.8 degrees Celsius. He goes to grab a damp handkerchief, placing it over Junhong's head.

"Are you hungry?" Youngjae questions. Junhong shakes his head, curling up as Youngjae his arm gently.

"Go to sleep, okay?" Youngjae glimpses at Daehyun to find he's wearing a frown on his face, brows knitted and stare riveted on his little brother.

Youngjae softly speaks, "I'll make some porridge for him in case he's hungry when he wakes up."

Daehyun nods, remaining by Junhong's side as Youngjae heads to the kitchen. After brewing the porridge and storing it in a vacuum flask, Youngjae quickly cooks up a simple meal of eggs, fish fillet and luncheon meat for Daehyun. Youngjae takes a quick showers and heads back to the room, stopping in front of the ajar door.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Daehyun sighs, running a hand through Junhong's hair.

Junhong is still awake, staring at his big brother with his usual doe eyes. Fatigue colours the small child's irises and Junhong shakes his head slightly, breathing, "I'm not sick, hyung. I'll be better tomorrow."

"You can't lie to me, Junhong. I told you to tell me whenever you're not feeling well," Daehyun chides, letting out another long breath.

Youngjae pushes open the door. "You should go take a quick shower," he suggests warmly, squeezing Daehyun's shoulder.

Daehyun glances back to Junhong who squirms and wheezes, "Hyung, you're smelly. Go and bathe."

Daehyun scoffs amusedly, patting Junhong's knee and sending Youngjae a grateful smile. "Thanks, Youngjae." He spares one last look at the sick child before padding away.

Youngjae settles down by Junhong's side and hums a soft tune, Junhong rolling onto his side to meet Youngjae's eyes. Youngjae casts him a small smile and rubs his arm comfortingly.

"You have to tell Daehyun-hyung and me when you're feeling unwell, okay, Junhong?" Youngjae speaks gently. "You'll worry us a lot if you don't tell us."

Snow streams down the window frame, plopping against the glass like damp, feeble knocks. Junhong purses his lips and mumbles, "I'm sorry, hyung. I didn't mean it."

"It's okay," Youngjae reassures, though Junhong's knitted brows do not relent. He shifts against the pillow and murmurs, "Daehyun-hyung gets sad when I'm sick..."

Youngjae gazes at the boy curled up, no words forming at the tip of his lips for that moment. He reaches out and clasps Junhong's hand tenderly. "He'll be more sad if you don't tell him you are," Youngjae whispers.

Junhong looks down and pouts, blubbering, "But it's Daehyun-hyung's first day of work. I can't make him sad." He veers his eyes back to meet Youngjae and Spring seems to intertwine with his lashes, irises b with a delicateness of blooming tulips and fleeting breezes.

"Daehyun-hyung is so happy now, hyung. I don't want to make him sad again," Junhong bleats, downcast eyes dimming in disappointment.

"Junhong," Youngjae breathes, but his words wither like the first drops of snow onto crackled leaves. He swallows down the rise in his throat and squeezes Junhong's hand, forcing the ends of his lips to curl.

The minutes bleed away into the thumps of bristling white against the window pane and a cold, cold night, Junhong falling easily into a slumber. Youngjae takes his temperature again, glad to see it has somewhat reduced. Daehyun returns to the room and he sits by Youngjae's side, arms propped up onto his knees while he broods silently.

"His fever went down," Youngjae offers.

Daehyun nods gingerly and churns out a quirk of the lips, though his misty irises reflect his crestfallen state. "Sorry. I must have really overreacted. Just... habit and all." He glances to Junhong and mutters, "Back then, whenever he got sick, it'd last for weeks or more."

Youngjae bites his lip, mind conjuring up shrivelling thoughts of a feeble Junhong trapped in the blizzard. Daehyun would not have been able to afford medicine for Junhong at that time, and with the lack of food and proper living conditions, Junhong's recovery must have been severely hampered.

"Don't worry about it, Daehyun. It's not your fault," Youngjae whispers.

The forlorness persists in Daehyun's ragged sighs, blue trickling into the air as he gulps thickly. Snow continues to paint the glass, streaks of fog warping the view outside.

"I couldn't take care of him then. I was so useless. All I could do was watch," Daehyun croaks softly, placing a hand over Junhong's wrist as the memories loom over his head like relentless apparitions and a never-ending nightmare. "He had to sleep out in the cold because of me with no food. I could barely even give him water."

"It's not your fault, Daehyun," Youngjae consoles firmly. "And you can now. Junhong will get better in a day or two." He offers up as much encouragement as his heart can churn out with his smile, of itty bitty daffodils grown from Junhong's unforgettable words and Daehyun's despondent looks.

"I'll take time off to take care of him at home," Youngjae suggests, humming to lighten the mood and locking eyes with Daehyun. Thankfully, Daehyun takes a bit more comfort in his words this time, his pupils slowly enlivening. A smile draws softly across his cheeks and he breathes, "Thank you, Youngjae."

The unmistakable cloudiness swarms his expression, one that is becoming steadily familiar. Daehyun gradually extends his arm and Youngjae shrinks back slightly.

Daehyun's hand lightly cups his cheek and the margin between them seems to be a little too small, despite plenty of space separating them.

"Really..." Daehyun's voice dwindles into a husky timbre. "I couldn't have asked for someone better than you to come into my life."

Stillness cements a tinge of nervousness into Youngjae's skin as he stares back into Daehyun's tenaciously fixed eyes. The fingers against his jaw are a bit cold, more lukewarm than anything else, and it feels rather odd.

"I'll work hard," Daehyun says determinedly, maintaining his gaze. "I'll work really hard and soon, I'll be able to take care of Junhong and you."

Warmth tickles Youngjae's cheeks and he darts his eyes away, a brewing discomfort in his guts at the look Daehyun is wearing. He gently removes Daehyun's hand and chuckles awkwardly.

"You don't have to take care of me," Youngjae laughs softly, placing Daehyun's hand back onto his knee. "But I have faith in you, anyway."

Youngjae looks to Junhong when Daehyun's stare seeps too far into him, continuing, "After you've settled in with your job, I'll teach you, okay? We'll get your high school degree, and then, you'll be able to get a stable job."

"Okay," Daehyun returns, drips of enthusiasm laced into his syllables. "I don't mind starting now." He pats Junhong's leg through the blanket and explains, "I can read a few of those books you brought out while watching Junhong."

"Are you sure?" Youngjae crosses his brows. "Aren't you tired? You don't have to rush."

"I'm not," Daehyun confidently proclaims. He goes to grab the stack of textbooks Youngjae had filed out in his free time, old books he never bothered to clear from his high school days. He was supposed to hand them to a cousin down in Seoul when he moved here, but his cousin had gotten brand new books and he never got around to donating his books.

They start with a basic Korean textbook after Youngjae has checked the syllabus online, crossing his fingers and hoping his notes will still be relevant. Daehyun insists on learning it on his own, urging Youngjae to go back to bed, but Youngjae accompanies him anyway through the first chapter.

Junhong stirs once or twice, Daehyun instantaneously snapping his head towards the boy, but for most of the night, he is in a deep sleep. Daehyun diligently toils for the first few hours as he scrutinises the texts, ushering Youngjae back into his room to sleep.

Youngjae discreetly stays up to calculate his bills and put aside his unneeded items for sale, rummaging through his cupboards as dusk slowly begins to take its toll. He decides to go check on Daehyun and Junhong and peeks into the room. Daehyun is sitting by Junhong's side with his hand entwined with his, still studying conscientiously.

Youngjae melts into a soft smile and heads back to his own room. The relentless snowfall outside has subsided, just the inaudible pitter patter of droplets b in the night air. Youngjae thinks of Minhyun declaring he'll marry summer while bouncing on his bed, and he falls asleep to Daehyun's gentle fingers against his cheek and a blanket pulled over him.

Thanks for reading! ♡ Sorry for such a late update ;;