For the first night in a long time, Tao has a wonderful dream.

He imagines someone’s arms wrapped tightly around him, long legs entangled in his own.

He thinks he hears whispers of love in his ear, and he thinks he feels a hand carding through his hair.

He’s safe. He’s warm. He feels more at home than he has for years.

Just before he’s about to wake up, Tao imagines soft lips on his own.

The scent of flowers wakes Tao up that morning.

When he finally peeled his eyes open to look, he realized there was a basket of beautifully arranged honeysuckle sitting innocently on his nightstand.

His lips still tingled. 

Tao stomped down the stairs, basket in one hand as he strode into the kitchen.

Plunking the basket down on the counter top, he pried off the top of the garbage can and deposited it down on the floor before pushing his hand into the basket of honeysuckle. Ripping them out piece by piece, petal by petal, he began the slow process of tossing them all into the trash. 

When he had finally reached the end of the bunch, he had stuck his hand in one final time - only to pull it out with a sudden yelp of pain.

Tao stared down at his hand, where, on the tip of his pointer finger, a drop of blood was welling up. Tao leaned over the basket and peered in.

There, at the bottom of the basket.

A single red rose, thorns and all.

Tao picked it up with his injured hand, blood dripping onto the thorns as he lifted it out of the basket.

Hand quivering, mind blank, he stared at it for several long moments, before slowly lifting it over the trash can.

…but he couldn’t.

Because– because hadn’t he dreamed of something like this?

Tao clutched the rose to his chest, clenching his fist tightly around the thorns as he slid down the cabinets.

Tao felt his eyes water and lifted a hand to cover his mouth.

Tao labored with eating his dinner with his non-dominant hand, keeping his right hand quietly hidden beneath the table. He struggled the most with the peas, hand shaking as he lifted his fork to his mouth, dropping half of its original contents back onto the plate.

His mother, whether or not she had even noticed, didn’t care. After three glasses of wine, she was off to bed.

Kris’ eyes, though, had been on him all night. 

“Is something wrong with your hand, Tao?”

Tao flicked his eyes to his stepbrother, noticing for the first time that they were alone in the dining room.

“… Nothing’s wrong.”

“… liar.”

Kris was standing, moving to his side of the table to extend a large, callused hand toward him. Tao had no choice but to cautiously lay a hand within his brother’s grip.

Kris smiled, eyes softening.

“The other hand, Tao.”

Tao stared up guiltily, taking his right hand out from underneath the table, replacing it with the other.

The bandages were still stained red, blood still seeping from the gashes that the rose had torn into his hand.

Kris pulled up and away, and Tao was obliged to follow, the grip on his hand tender and soft, but at the same time firm. There was power behind it, and Tao didn’t want to test it.

When they had reached the medicine cabinet, Kris began by pulling out a new roll of bandages, slowly and methodically cutting open his old bandages to peel them off his hand. Tao hissed, and Kris shushed him quietly, petting the back of his hand with gentle fingers. 

Kris poured antiseptic onto some sterile cloth, staring at him before pressing the cloth into Tao’s hand.

Tao’s first instinct was to hiss in pain and withdraw his hand, but the grip on his hand remained tight and unyielding, restraining the younger man.

His hand felt hot, open and raw now, shaking in Kris’ grip. Tears were trailing down Tao’s face when Kris finally let go, and Tao hiccupped, wiping the sleeve of his other arm across his face as he struggled not to make noise. 

After he had peeled his now wet arm away from his face, he noticed that Kris had finished bandaging his hand, now skillfully finishing the intricate knot that would keep the bandages from slipping from his hand. 

Tao sniffed, and stared at Kris with wide, wet eyes, meeting his stepbrother’s gaze. 

There was a dangerous spark the lit between the two of them when the two were together, Tao had to admit. He couldn’t pry his eyes away, and he didn’t think Kris could either.

Kris picked up Tao’s injured hand again, this time bringing it close to his lips before flipping it and pressing a light kiss to his palm. 

“Don’t worry. I’d never hurt you, little brother.”

Tao felt heat rush through him at the other’s kiss, and watched with stunned eyes as the other lifted his head, drawing it closer and closer to his own.

Before Kris could get too close, however, Tao had slapped Kris’ hand away, and was already running away, feeling Kris’ gaze trace his path out the door.

Dangerous, Tao thought to himself.

Kris was dangerous.

“… What, exactly, are you doing?”

“Walking you to school.”

Tao paused in the front yard, turning to stare at Kris who was just paces behind him.

“… I don’t need you to walk me to school. Get lost.”

Kris tilted his head, as if considering Tao’s response. “Well, I don’t think you’d allow me to drive you to school, would you?”

Tao’s piercing glare was his only response to Kris’ question.

“… I have tons of friends who I walk to school with every day. They’re all waiting for me ahead. If you come with me, there’ll be questions. So. Don’t.”

Kris shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, Tao. … I’ll see you when you get back home, then?”

Tao only stared at him as he opened the gate, shutting it firmly behind him and locking Kris inside.

Tao didn’t need Kris. He’d been fine on his own for so long. 

The only difference now was that Suho and Yixing were gone, but Tao was already eighteen years old. He was old enough to bear the pain, to feign strength, to keep walking forward. He could do this on his own.

But, truthfully, a part of Tao feels so alone that it hurts to think about it.

When Tao finally got out of school for the day, Kris was already waiting for him by the school gates, leaning on his corvette convertible with a smile on his handsome, perfect face.

Tao stopped dead in his tracks.

His classmates were already forming a crowd around Kris as they pointed and stared at Tao’s stepbrother, whispering excitedly to themselves. 

When Kris noticed him and jerked his head to his car, the gaze of the crowd turned to Tao, and Tao watched as they slowly made the connection in their minds.

Tao spun on his heel and walked in the other direction.

It suddenly seemed like a good day to take the bus.

It was a horrible idea to take the bus. 

Tao thought to himself, miserably, as he sank further into his seat, trying his best not to look outside the window, where, currently speeding next to the bus in the oncoming lane, was his brother Kris.

His female classmates were all squealing, faces pressed up to the glass in glee as they watched Kris keep up with the bus, swerving just a bit closer to give them a charming smile and a wave. 

The screams of his female classmates pierced through Tao’s ears and he covered them with his hands, clenching his eyes tightly shut.

“You lied.”

Tao glanced over at Kris from where the man was still in his car, driving at a snail’s pace as he kept up with Tao’s slow strides. Tao had gotten off 4 stops too early, hoping that a slow walk would eventually frustrate the man into leaving him alone. It hadn’t, yet.

“… About what?”

“Having friends to walk with you to school. You walk by yourself every day, don’t you?”

Tao stopped, and Kris quietly braked as well.

“… Have you been following me?”

Kris didn’t respond, sliding his sunglasses off his eyes and onto his head before winking at Tao. His brother slid across the seat, popping the door to the passenger side open.

“Hop in, I’ll drive you back to the house.”

Tao’s heartbeat fluttered and he placed a hand on the car door, actually considering for a minute the way the man seemed genuinely delighted, smiling at his younger brother with a strange happiness as he pet the seat next to him. 

But Yixing’s advice sprang up again in his head, and Tao shook the thoughts clear from his head, slamming the passenger door closed before walking away.

Kris continued to follow him until they reached the gate.

“Hello, Tao. Can I come in?” 

Tao blinked in surprise, automatically pulling the door open to allow a beautiful, feminine man to walk in. 

The man in question turned to him, taking a cheek in his hand and tugging it quietly. “My goodness, I haven’t seen you since you were this small,” the man gestures with his hands, “and that was… more than ten years ago, now?”

The man laughed, a light, tinkling noise and Tao felt a small, hesitant smile pulling onto his own face.

“Excuse me, who are…?”

“Oh yes, you probably don’t remember me, seeing as you were still so small back then. I’m your—“

“Uncle Luhan, how good to see you.”

Luhan looked behind him, paling instantly, and Tao himself turned to see Kris standing in the hallway, hands in his pockets.

“K-Kris, funny seeing you here…” His uncle started, looking around nervously. “I didn’t know you’d be... I mean, I thought you were –“

“—Out traveling the world? I decided to take a break.” Kris finished for him smoothly, smiling briefly before turning back to call for their mother.

Tao regarded their exchange with curious eyes.

Dinner was tense, that night.

Silver knives scraped into the chinaware, the screeching, irritating noise the only one present in the otherwise silent room.

Tao looked up between bites to see his mother stabbing angrily into her steak, sawing at it savagely with her knife as it bled red onto the plate beneath it. 

Occasionally, Luhan would attempt to make conversation with his mother, only to be shot down when his mother either didn’t respond, or made a derisive, mocking comment and ended the conversation before it had even started.

Of the man in question, Luhan was looking extremely uneasy, clearing his throat nervously every few minutes while hardly taking a bite of his food. He caught the man stealing glances at his brother Kris, only to turn away when his brother lifted his head to stare back.

Luhan seemed to finally gather his courage though, coughing before finally setting his blood red napkin back down on his lap and putting his silverware down. He coughed softly again, this time drawing the attention of the entire room.

“So, Kris, you just said you’ve been… traveling the world?”

Kris gives a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, letting Tao’s mother respond for him as he took a long, slow sip of water.

“Kris has been traveling for many years, he tells me. It’s strange that you don’t know a thing about that, but I guess that happens when people lose touch with each other, isn’t it?” She sneers, dabbing at the corner of with a napkin.

“Oh, yes— Kris just told me the most delightful story about his last trip to Africa, didn’t you? About the natives that you befriended? Why don’t you tell us about it again?” Her mother added eagerly, doing her best to cut Luhan off from speaking more.

Kris nodded, and Tao found himself leaning over the table to hear the story.

“Yes, it’s a great story. I stayed in the northern tip of South Africa for a short while, spending time with a native tribe who invited me to stay with them after I had gotten separated from my hunting guide.”

“Really?” Luhan’s eyes were shining brightly. “What was your guide’s name? Where was he from?”

Kris narrowed his eyes a fraction. “My guide’s name was Henri, an expatriate Frenchman living in South Africa that I had befriended on a previous summer’s visit to Johannesburg.”

Luhan hummed, gesturing for him to continue his story, which Kris did.

“I stayed with the tribe for several weeks, helping hunt by day and sitting down by the huts to eat with them at night. One day, one of the children foun—“

“What tribe did you say this was again?” Luhan interrupted again, unsmiling.

Kris was gripping his napkin tightly in his hand from where it was visible on top of the table. “The Xhosa tribe.” Kris said, articulating the word beautifully with a click.

“Oh? And they still live in huts? It is the 20^th century, I’m shocked to hear that.”

Something in Luhan’s voice suggested that Kris was lying.

Tao watched as his mother slammed her hands down onto the table, turning to Luhan with a sneer. “Will you allow Kris to finish his story? I’m sure if you let him explain, you would come to realize that everything he is saying is true. Isn’t it?” 

His mother barely turned to look, but Kris nodded anyway.

“You’re doing all of this for a reason. You don’t even want to hear his story, do you, Luhan?”

Luhan shook his head. “I really think we need to talk in private, Fei.”

His mother shook her head again, picking up her knife again. 

“There’s nothing we need to talk about, Luhan.” She spat.

Luhan lurched, reaching out to grip his mother’s forearm. “Oh but I think there is, Fei, if you only let me—“

Fei snatched her arm out of Luhan’s grip, throwing her napkin down to the floor as she stood up quickly, the chair falling back with a clatter.

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say, Luhan, not now, not ever. Don’t think that just because Suho died, it gives you the right to barge into my home. I told you seventeen years ago that I didn’t want you OR your disgusting, alternative lifestyle to influence my family! So, if you would please gather you things and get out of my house, I would be most obliged!” 

Luhan pulled back, visibly hurt.

“So sorry you can’t spend the night, Uncle Luhan.” Kris said, opening the trunk of the taxi and quietly picking up the older man’s luggage. 

As he moved toward the trunk to set it in, Luhan turned to Tao, extending a hand out to him. Tao took it quickly, shaking his hand firmly. 

The look in Luhan’s eyes was the same look that had been in Yixing’s, Tao realized much later.

But at the time, Tao focused more on how the man leaned in, whispering quickly to him. 

“Whenever you get the chance, Tao, call this number. It’s important that we talk.”

Tao felt a piece of paper slide into his hand.

“Uncle Luhan?” Kris’ voice called, from a quickly approaching distance.

“Tao, it was so good to see you again after so many years. You’ve grown so much!” Luhan loudly faked, eyes flashing at Tao before turning away to face Kris.

The older man flinched, realizing that Kris was closer than he had anticipated. The men stared each other down before Kris extended a slow hand to Luhan.

“Well, it was good to see you, if only for a little while.”

Luhan tried to smile back, the expression twitching onto and off his face as he palmed the other’s hand lightly. Ducking into the taxi, he made to shut the door, only to be stopped by a large, broad hand that clasped the top.

Luhan looked over to see Kris leaning down, meeting his gaze.

“Which hotel will you be staying at tonight, Uncle Luhan? …You know, in case we need to reach you.”

Luhan stared.

“…the DoubleTree, off of Oxford.”

“Ah, good to know. Have a good night, uncle.”

The door slammed shut, and Luhan turned to watch Kris as he continued to stand there, even as the taxi drove away. 

It wasn’t until they were out of sight that Luhan turned to the taxi driver with sudden urgency. 

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind.”

“Glass of wine, Tao?”

Tao paused from where he had already put a foot on the stairs, turning back to see Kris coming out of the dining room, two glasses of wine in hand.

Tao narrowed his eyes, looking around for any sign of anyone else. “I’m only eighteen, Kris.”

“I’m sure just a taste won’t hurt?” Kris laughed, gesturing with a hand for Tao to follow him, not staying behind to see if Tao followed.

Because Tao would, and because Tao did.

The two of them sat on opposite sides of the long dinner table, Tao, dressed in all black, cutting a dreary and solitary figure, while Kris was dressed in light browns and greys, handsome and statuesque in his suit.

Kris slowly slid the glass of wine toward Tao, as if sliding him a loaded gun. 

Tao looked down at it, watching the dark red liquid slosh at the movement. The younger man swallowed heavily, before looking back up to his brother.

His brother was now leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands, smiling at him with eyes that crinkled.

“Go on. Be my guest.”

For a second, Tao was hesitant, staring down at the wine with uncertainty in his heart. 

But then he heard Kris laughing softly to himself under his breath, and realized that Kris didn’t think he would.

I’m not a child. Tao thought to himself as he snatched up the glass, throwing his head back as the red liquid trailed down his throat.

Tao thought he heard Kris groan.

“What do you want from me?”

“… To be friends.”

“We don’t need to be friends. We’re family.”

Later that night, Tao was alone in his room again, carefully stitching a fake, beaded eye onto the carcass of a mounted fox. 

Closing one eye to squint down at his needlework, Tao cautiously slid the needle under the skin, poking it back out a second later and pulling the thread taut.

‘You’ve got to make sure you pull it tight, Tao, or else it’ll fall back out later, and you wouldn’t want a fox with only one eye, would you?’

Tao remembered the hours Suho had spent at his side, laying careful hands over Tao’s own, guiding him. His father had paid extra attention to Tao when he had taught Tao the art of hunting and taxidermy. Their house was covered in his prizes – countless foxes, squirrels, rabbits and deer, all mounted along the walls and adorned on mantels.

Even though Suho had been strangely adamant about it, Tao had grown to love it, and although his father was now gone, he still found himself drawn to the craft whenever he needed a calming moment. 

Suho was always making sure Tao was doing something with his hands, lest he begin to feel “restless” again.

‘Whenever you feel the urge, just tell me, alright? We can go out shooting. Or take a trip through the woods. Just tell me.’

Tao hadn’t felt the strange restlessness for years – not until he had seen his brother for the first time.

His hands suddenly slipped and he dropped the needle, clutching his injured hand. It still throbbed, as did his head.

All of a sudden, Tao was aware of the heat that had slowly spread over his body, and the slight spinning of his vision.

Ice. I need ice.

Tao made the long trek into the basement, keeping one hand firmly planted on the wall next to him as he made slow steps into the dark.

Feeling his way to the door that he knew was there, Tao pulled at the doorknob, hearing and feeling the door pull open with a loud creak. Holding his hands in front of him, he shuffled further into the room until he had reached what he believed was the middle.

Lifting a hand, his wandering fingers found the length of chain hanging from the ceiling and pulled.

The light flickered on.

A low hum was coming from the freezer in front of him and Tao traced his fingers across the dusty top, noting the strangely empty voids in the dust where someone’s hand had been there recently.

He followed the tracks, sliding his fingers under the latch and pulling up.

After a few seconds of hard tugging, the freezer unstuck itself and flew back, lid flapping in the dusty air.

The single light of the room was swaying side-to-side as Tao squinted into the freezer, trying to make out its contents in the flickering, changing light. Seeing a lump in the corner, Tao reached in, believing it to be the bag of ice he had come for. 

His hands clenched around stringy, brittle material – like thread – and he frowned, pulling the object out of the freezer—only to fall back in shock as the object tumbled to the ground beside him.

Tao in a deep breath, pupils dilating in alarm as a human head rolled to a slow stop beside him.

It only had one eye.

Tao felt his eyes roll back up his head before he lost consciousness.

Luhan sat nervously on the dirty mattress of the Super 8 Motel.

The TV had been playing the same looping episode of Tom & Jerry for two hours, now, but Luhan couldn’t bring himself to turn it off.

He felt uneasy. 

Standing up to move to the window for the fiftieth time that night, Luhan poked a finger through the blind, lifting the section up just enough to peek outside.

There was no dark shape, no nightmare waiting for him – no one and nothing at all in the parking lot except for the single street light planted in the middle.

Luhan dropped the blinds again, rubbing his hands against his face.

He had to do something, or else he would go crazy.

He would call Tao.

Moving to his coat jacket, he pulled the pockets for his cellphone, frowning when each time, they came up empty. Patting down the pockets of his pants, he turned to his suitcase, ping it and emptying it onto the floor.

No cellphone.

Luhan’s hand twitched from where it lay on his knee.

Maybe – maybe I just misplaced it somewhere here – perhaps I dropped it and it fell under the bed?

Luhan got to his hands and knees, lifting the cover of the bed before sticking his head in. He looked in, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was nothing.

It wasn’t until a few seconds after Luhan had pulled back from the bed, had he realized something was wrong. His eyes hadn’t needed to adjust back to the light – because the lights in his room had turned off. Come to think of it, when had he shut off the TV?

The power was out, he had no cellphone.

The power was out, he had no cellphone.

Luhan had pulled on his coat, hurrying out of his room and running across the parking lot to the phone booth across the way. 

The moment he got inside, he slammed the door shut quickly behind him, reaching into his pockets with shaky hands to pull out change. He hurriedly dialed the number to the Huang household.

Come on, come on, pick up, Luhan thought desperately, hearing the phone on the other end ring, ring, ring, ring, ring. After the thirteenth empty ring, Luhan hung up, swearing up a storm as he whirled around to think. When he looked up and realized what he was seeing, his heart stopped.

The lights were still on in all of the other rooms.

The ringing of the telephone behind him caused the man to nearly leap out of his skin before turning around in relief.

Oh thank God, they’ve called back.

Picking up the phone, he pressed it desperately to his ear.

“Hello... Fei?”

There was silence on the other end.

“…Tao?”

 “…Who is this, is this the Huang household?”

“…It’s me, Uncle Luhan. You left your phone on the table in the hall.”

Luhan turned to see Kris opening the door to the phone booth, holding Luhan’s own cellphone up to his ear.

Luhan's phone dropped out of his hand, dangling on its wire, forgotten. Luhan backed up as much as he could, the machine digging into his back as he stared into Kris’ dark eyes.

“You said you were staying at the DoubleTree. You weren’t there when I got there. So I had to call the cab company.”

Luhan looked around him frantically for an escape, finding none. Kris tilted his head, considering.

“... To tell the truth, you’ve always disliked me, haven’t you, Uncle Luhan?”

Luhan turned back, shaking his head vehemently.

“That’s okay – I didn’t care for you much either.”

Kris unbuckled his belt, slowly sliding it out from his pants.

“You know, you could have avoided all of this, if only you had just stayed away.”

This time, Kris wrapped the ends of the belt tightly around his hands, drawing it taut, eyes strangely wet with emotion.

“I won't let you take him away from me this time.” 

Kris lunged.

When Tao woke up with a startled scream, it was morning. 

He was laying in his bed, surrounded by beautiful flowers that crowded his table and nightstand, begging for his attention.

Tao was flying down the stairs, running past the main hall to reach the staircase down into the basement. He distantly heard Kris call after him in concern, chasing after him.

Tao paid him no mind, desperately padding down the corridor and throwing open the door to the room.

It’s here—it was here.

But when he pulled open the freezer, it was empty.

Tao was screaming when Kris found him, sending objects flying off a table with a sweep of his hand as he pounded the table violently. The older man had no choice but to pin Tao to the ground, hugging tight arms around him as the other struggled to throw him off.

“He was here! I swear he was HERE!” Tao shouted, eyes darting across the room.

“Who was here, Tao, who was here?” His brother cooed, pulling strands of Tao’s sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead.

“YIXING!”

Tao was sobbing now, his hands within his brother’s shirt as his memories betrayed him.

“I saw—I saw—“

“Shhh,” Kris whispered in his ear, “It was just a bad dream, Tao. Just a bad dream.”