CHAPTER THREE

“We may have some difficulties walking through this,” Kyuhyun winced when he opened the front door. Over the night, thick snow had layered the front yard and the territories beyond. The world was a canvas of plain white.

Ryeowook looked at the slush of snow that had spilled into the house and dampened the planks. He pursed his lips, as though contemplating if he should get a broom this instant. “We should get going,” he decided, sweeping the snow back outdoors with his boots-clad feet instead. “We’re running late.”

Kyuhyun took the first step and he felt his feet sinking into the mush. The snow rose a few inches above his ankle and moisture seeped into the lower legs of his pants, encircling his ankles with a ring of cold. Walking was a difficult task.

Kyuhyun grabbed the gist of maneuvering through the snow over the next couple of feet. It just took a higher lift of the knees and a slight bounce on the heels to conquer the snow-laden tracks. 

“Ryeowook! I know exactly how to –” Kyuhyun snapped up to share his discovery, but his delight was cut short when he realized that Ryeowook was on neither of his sides. He turned around to find Ryeowook lagging a few yards behind him. 

Perhaps because of his shorter stature, Ryeowook had more difficulty plowing through this gigantic cushion of snow. Somewhere along the course, his set of footprints had merged into Kyuhyun’s. Kyuhyun watched as Ryeowook stepped carefully into the basin of footprints he had left behind. Ryeowook would plant his foot firmly into Kyuhyun’s footprint before attempting another step. 

Kyuhyun felt an influx of warmth as he looked at the deep impression of smaller footprints encased within the trail he had left behind. His lips were teased into a smile. There was an inexplicable element of intimacy in their overlapping set of footprints.

Ryeowook stopped and looked up in confusion when the column of footprints he had been walking on ended with Kyuhyun’s unmoving stance. The mere distance of a step separated them. The scarf Ryeowook was wearing buried half of his face, revealing only a pair of eyes that was now narrowed in mild accusation.

“Why are you stopping?” Kyuhyun caught the words despite Ryeowook’s muffled voice.

“Waiting for you.”

“Keep on walking,” Ryeowook said, motioning to the tracks they had left behind. “I’ll catch up. It’s easier for me to walk in your steps.”

An idea blinked to life in Kyuhyun’s mind and he squashed the thought of sharing his discovery. 

“But we’re getting late.” Kyuhyun embellished his tone with a fake exasperation. He pointed to the sun that had risen higher in the cloudless sky. “I’ve a solution, but I wonder if you would listen to it?”

Ryeowook cocked his head to one side, giving Kyuhyun the permission to continue. Kyuhyun crouched down before Ryeowook, his back facing him.

“I’ll carry you.” He gestured Ryeowook to get onto his back. Surprise was palpable in the air behind him. 

“What kind of lousy idea is this?” Ryeowook kept his voice even, but the current of stutter did not go unnoticed. Kyuhyun was certain that the cheeks beneath the scarf were flushed with embarrassment.

“Well this lousy idea happens to be the most effective one out there. C’mon, get on. The cold’s getting to my feet.”

“I’m heavy,” Ryeowook mumbled.

“I’m sure that I’m strong enough,” Kyuhyun flexed his arms. “There’s nothing to be shy about.”

“I’m not shy or - ” Ryeowook started heatedly.

“We’re getting late,” Kyuhyun weighted his words with unnecessary emphasis. Ryeowook sighed in defeat and clambered gingerly onto Kyuhyun's back. Kyuhyun hooked his hands beneath the crook of Ryeowook's knees and stood up, all the while chewing on his lower lip to keep his face straight from the stubborn tug at the corners of his lips.

Kyuhyun bounced Ryeowook lightly on his back, testing his weight. "You should try carrying yourself if you think that you’re heavy. I’m pretty sure that you're lighter than the crate of apples I carried last week."

"Don't be silly." Ryeowook's warm breath caressed Kyuhyun's ear, sending a shiver down his spine. For the first time, Kyuhyun noticed how close they were. The proximity reminded him of how much they had progressed in this uncanny relationship.

"Absolutely not. I'm sure that - " Kyuhyun shuddered visibly when sudden wisp of frosty breeze scraped his exposed neck.

"Where's your scarf?” A frown could be heard in Ryeowook’s voice.

“I forgot about it.” Kyuhyun sniffed, his nose suddenly numb. “Say, would you mind rubbing my nose for me? I promise that no snot will fall,” he added when he felt Ryeowook shirking in disgust. After a short while of vacillation, Ryeowook captured Kyuhyun’s nose with his gloved hands and rubbed, though none-too-gently.

“That’s much bet –” A violent sneeze cut off Kyuhyun’s sentence. “Sorry about that.”

“The wind is strong today.” Ryeowook fidgeted on his back and the next moment, Ryeowook’s had undone his own scarf to loop half of it around Kyuhyun’s neck. He tucked the woolly material carefully into itself. “Is this better?”

Kyuhyun looked down at the scarf and blinked in surprise. The mental picture of them bundled in the same scarf steamed away the cold gracing his skin, leaving a warm trail that narrowed right down to his core. When he recovered his composure, he was gripped by a sudden sense of injustice.

“Everyone in the town thinks that you’re cold, unfeeling even,” Kyuhyun said aloud and he could feel Ryeowook stiffening. “But you’re not. If they bother to know you, they’ll realize how warm your heart is. Even though you may not know it yourself.”

It was true. If everyone bothered to try to thaw that permafrost Ryeowook had built, they would know that every ounce of their effort to unearth that the person beneath was worth it.

“I’m not worth their time,” Ryeowook mumbled.

“Their loss, because you’re certainly worth mine,” Kyuhyun said matter-of-factly.

The snow crunched beneath Kyuhyun’s boots as he tracked on the path that led to the town. Ryeowook had unknowingly rested his chin on Kyuhyun’s shoulder. His hair tickled the slope of Kyuhyun’s jaw. Not that he was complaining.

They passed a group of kids frolicking in the snowy field. They were tugging on long strings attached to what seems like pieces of paper snapping in the sky. Their laughter rang in the air. Kyuhyun could also hear a couple of them shouting in childish competition.

“What are they doing?” Kyuhyun stopped in his tracks, about to direct Ryeowook’s attention to the kids when he realized that Ryeowook’s eyes were already fixed on the colored diamonds flapping in the sky.

“They are kite-flying.”

“So those are kites. This is the first time I’ve seen one.” Looking at the jubilant faces of the children, Kyuhyun felt more forgiving towards the wind. At least there were people happy in this weather. “They are pretty,” he said, looking in wonderment how a few specks of color could embellish the entire sky.

“They are,” Ryeowook agreed, his eyes never leaving the sky.

“You like them?”

“I want to be them,” Ryeowook said softly, poignancy crawling into his voice. “I want to be them in my next life, if I get to choose. It doesn’t matter that they are inanimate.”

It was one the first time Ryeowook offered information about himself without him asking.  He should have been delighted, but Ryeowook’s euphemism about death made him uneasy.

“Why?” Kyuhyun turned, finding a need to look at Ryeowook. Their cheeks grazed. “Because they could fly?”

Ryeowook shook his head, his eyes faraway. “Because no matter how far they fly, there’s always someone holding onto them at the other end of the line, never willing to let go.”

::::::::::

Festive joy heightened in every alley and corner of Meadavine when Christmas neared. High-spirited Christmas carols resounded at the heart of the quaint town, waning only after midnight struck. A gigantic Christmas tree sparkled at the center of the town's plaza and almost every shop displayed their smaller versions of trees. Everywhere Kyuhyun went, he would hear mirthful laughter and the generous exchange of well-wishes. It seemed as if fairies had sprinkled dust of merriment all over the town, affecting everyone who inhaled the air.

Well, everyone except for Ryeowook.

Ryeowook treated the season with the trained indifference he had for all the other days. Once, during the stroll back to the cottage, Kyuhyun had casually asked Ryeowook about how Christmas was celebrated. Ryeowook answered with a blank stare, and after a long moment of thought, said, "I've never celebrated Christmas."

“Why?” Kyuhyun had asked. “If I had been a human sooner, I'm sure I would have celebrated Christmas every single year.”

“Not all humans are as spirited as you are,” Ryeowook had replied, leaving Kyuhyun to wonder if Ryeowook had just doled out a compliment. “Besides, Christmas is for people with a family.”

There was neither jealousy nor grievance in those words, only a simple fact enough to freeze Kyuhyun for a second. 

When they reached the cottage, Ryeowook's words flashed once again in his mind and Kyuhyun realized how desolate the house looked amidst the glittering lights of the neighboring cottages. 

You deserve something so much better, he thought, his eyes scanning the house empty of festive joy. 

Over the next few days, as Ryeowook tended to the fruit cart, Kyuhyun visited a couple of stores that had put several Christmas ornaments for sale. He had also rummaged through the piles of boxes that shopkeepers had carelessly discarded behind their stores, sifting through the defects for trinkets that could still be used. He consulted the old ladies in the plaza, who helpfully explained the way Christmas was celebrated in conventional households.

And hence, on the evening three days before Christmas, Kyuhyun marched into the house with a stumpy Christmas tree hoisted over his shoulder and a big cardboard box shoved under his arm. Ryeowook looked up from the dinner remnants he had been clearing and stared at Kyuhyun in an open-mouthed shock. Clumsily, Kyuhyun propped the tree against a corner of the living room and set the box onto the ground.

Grinning, Kyuhyun flexed his arms and announced, "We are celebrating Christmas this year!"

Kyuhyun deliberately ignored Ryeowook's frozen exasperation as he set up the Christmas tree on its stand. He sat cross-legged on the floor, whistling to a jubilant Christmas carol as he dug nosily through the contents of the box. Soon, the floor was scattered with colorful spheres with peeling varnish, figurines of angels with chipped wings and miniature red socks frayed at the edges.

“This house isn’t big enough for a tree,” Ryeowook pointed out with little disapproval.

“It’s Christmas,” Kyuhyun replied, hanging a flute-playing angel on the tree. “And this tree is only temporary.”

“But still…” Ryeowook’s resistance was dwindling.

“Nothing you say will make me give this tree up,” Kyuhyun joked and turned back to the tree. He picked up a reindeer from the pile next to him. “Maybe you should help me. Just in case our aesthetics clash.”

Kyuhyun shrugged when Ryeowook made no movement. He continued with his own endeavor, devoting his attention to the decoration.

After clearing the table, Ryeowook curled on the couch and rested his chin on his knees. He a thumb as his eyes followed Kyuhyun's attempts to beautify the cone of lush green. Many times as he hooked the ornaments, Kyuhyun could sense the string of hesitation that was tugging back Ryeowook's desire to input his suggestion.

"That belongs to the top," Ryeowook said suddenly when Kyuhyun brandished a palm-sized golden star and hung it randomly in the center. Kyuhyun blinked, the nice surprise of Ryeowook's intervention catching him off-guard.

"But it looks good here," Kyuhyun replied, putting up a false show of childish insistence. 

"You should put it at the top if it’s the only star." Ryeowook got up from the couch, shuffled to Kyuhyun's side and peered into the box. "Yes, it's the only star. So it should belong to the top." Without soliciting Kyuhyun's agreement, he removed the star and placed it at the pinnacle with a tip of the toes. His eyes then slid to the dissonance of ornaments clustered before Kyuhyun's face. "These don't look good here either."

Kyuhyun watched as Ryeowook took complete ownership of the tree, dispersing the cluttered ornaments and tossing the incongruous ones back unto the box. Feeling a frisson of mischief, Kyuhyun fished out a discarded ornament from the box and, as discreetly as he could, tried to hang it back onto the tree.

"No one hangs an acrylic turkey ham on their Christmas tree, Kyu," Ryeowook argued in fierce protection of the tree and the turkey ham fell onto the wooden floor with a clatter.

"Roger. I'm still learning how to be human," Kyuhyun said off-handedly but his curved lips were unmistakable. He heard it; Ryeowook called him 'Kyu', not the distant 'Kyuhyun'. The use of the affectionate sobriquet had brought his spirits to greater heights.

"How about this?" Kyuhyun deliberately retrieved a squeaky rubber chicken from the box, rearranging his face into an innocently blank expression.

"No," Ryeowook rolled his eyes - something which he had never done before - and Kyuhyun struggled to keep his face straight. "Put that obscene thing down."

“That's too bad. I have a thing for chickens,” Kyuhyun said mournfully. He turned back to the box, releasing the grin that he had been holding back once his face was out of Ryeowook's vision.

Kyuhyun continued to brandish quirky ornaments out of the box, trying to sneak them into the decoration which Ryeowook had assumed complete control over. However all his attempts were picked up by Ryeowook’s radar, engendering an oddly enjoyable banter which Kyuhyun would eventually give in to. 

Somewhere in the middle of the process, Kyuhyun stopped trying to restrain the persistent pull at the corner of his lips. There was a palpable thread in the air that responded to Kyuhyun’s wish, knitting the both of them closer together. He sank deep into the moment, preserving every bit of their interaction and every instant of Ryeowook’s expression in his memory. 

The sun had dipped by the time they coiled the streamer of tiny light bulbs around the tree. Kyuhyun flicked the one of ceiling lights off and traipsed back to Ryeowook’s side.

“Ready?” Kyuhyun asked in the dark. Ryeowook nodded, his eyes fixated on the tree. “Here we go.” Kyuhyun clicked the switch.

They watched in silent awe as the colorful bulbs awakened, blinking in rhythm in the orange glow of the room and casting dappled lights onto the walls. Kyuhyun cast a sideway glance to Ryeowook, his heart filling with pride at his imposed suggestion when he caught the spellbound gleam in Ryeowook’s eyes.

“What do you think?” Kyuhyun asked after another elongated moment of quiet.

Ryeowook merely nodded his response. His earlier display of bossy authority was subsiding back into the reserved shell he had been using as a shield.

"If it's up to me I would make us decorate a tree everyday." Kyuhyun said. 

“Why?” Ryeowook asked, tearing his eyes away from the tree.

Kyuhyun would never forget how alive Ryeowook had looked when he decorated the tree. The perennial frown that resided between his eyebrows was gone and there was a hint of passion in what he was doing. It was as life had stopped becoming a commitment to trudge on by.

“Because,” Kyuhyun started. He dared himself to put an arm around Ryeowook’s shoulder and pull him closer, smiling when Ryeowook did not recoil. “That's when you’re most human.” 

::::::::::

Christmas Eve found Kyuhyun and Ryeowook on the couch at eleven in the night. They stared at the glittering Christmas tree in the corner, counting down to the minutes before Christmas arrived. They were silent in their captivation with the twinkling lights.

Kyuhyun’s mind was preoccupied with the many wishes that flitted through his mind and then disappeared like vapor when he decided that they weren’t substantial enough for him to waste his only wish on. A while later he gave up filtering through his multiple wishes, deciding that when midnight came, the wish he made would automatically be the thing he yearned for the most.

Kyuhyun turned to Ryeowook, who had his body curled against the arm of the couch, and realized that his eyes were glazed in drowsiness. Kyuhyun flicked a glance to the clock. It was eleven-fifteen, an hour past their normal bedtime. 

“Shall I sing?” Kyuhyun offered and Ryeowook tilted his head up at the puncture of silence. The cloud of drowsiness in Ryeowook’s eyes parted temporarily. “The countdown to Christmas is too important to miss.”

Ryeowook rubbed his eyes, stifled a yawn and nodded.

Kyuhyun selected a mid-tempo song that had embedded in his memory after its frequent plays by the music store near the plaza. His velvety voice unwound from his throat, meandering throughout the room like silk ribbon. When the last note of the song fell, he chose another song he was familiar with. He sang the two songs on repeat mode without feeling tired. There was a simple joy in singing for Ryeowook.

At ten to midnight, Kyuhyun’s voice trailed off in mid-song when he realized that Ryeowook had fallen asleep despite his efforts to keep him awake. Kyuhyun gazed at the clock longingly, but he had no heart to shake Ryeowook awake. He sighed in defeat.

As gently as he could, he slung Ryeowook’s arm over his shoulder and hoisted him up on his back. He moved Ryeowook back to the room and set him on the bed, taking extra caution not to stir him. Then he tugged the blanket over Ryeowook’s frame. 

Kyuhyun had returned to his futon when Ryeowook stirred to curl himself up like a conch. One of his hands slipped out from the blanket to dangle at the edge of the bed. It was when he tried to tuck the hand back beneath the blanket, did he experience a heart-stopping instant. Jolts of voltage sparked where their hands joined, stopping time. 

When he could grasp the rhythm of time again, Kyuhyun adjusted his hand, so that his palm met Ryeowook’s in perfect symmetry. He curled his fingers around the hand, reluctant to relinquish his hold. 

Kyuhyun sat on the futon and propped his free elbow on the bed. The moonlight spilling through the window highlighted Ryeowook’s face; the long lashes, the delicate nose, the small lips and the tiny crease that never quite left the brows even in sleep. Kyuhyun’s heart burgeoned to a size too enormous for his chest.

The distant chime of a clock and eruption of cheers from the neighboring cottages tore Kyuhyun out of his reverie. It took a few seconds for Kyuhyun to register the arrival of Christmas.

“Merry Christmas,” Kyuhyun whispered. His eyes moved to stop at their interlocked hands and in one instant, the only wish that really mattered marched into his mind. He tightened his hold.

“If a kite is what you want to be in your next life, then let me be the person that holds onto you.” 

Kyuhyun reached out his free hand to ease frown between Ryeowook’s eyebrows.

“And, if it isn’t too much to ask for, I hope you treat me as your family now.”

::::::::::

Tiny noises stirred Kyuhyun from his sleep. He cracked an eye at the shafts of winter sunlight arrowing through the window. It took a while more for him to be fully awake, and when he was, the first thing he realized was that his hand was no longer under the comforting pressure of the smaller one he had held onto last night. A deep-seated emptiness assailed him.

Kyuhyun's ears perked when they caught the tiny noises again; labored breathing, muffled whimpers of pain and an unprojected call for help. His eyes widened when he registered their source, the last residues of sleep clearing. He bolted up from his futon and snapped his eyes to the trembling figure on the bed. He scrambled to Ryeowook's side in wild alarm.

Ryeowook's face was drained of color and his hair was matted to his forehead in cold sweat. He was curled on his side, a hand clutching at his chest, scratching. Clawing. He was biting on his lips hard enough to draw a small smear of blood. Panic closed upon Kyuhyun like a wretched vice.

"What should I do?" Kyuhyun asked frantically.

"Pills..." Ryeowook managed only a ragged syllable. He bit back another cry of pain but his eyes squeezed shut apprised Kyuhyun of his current torment.

"Where are they?" Kyuhyun ran a frantic hand across Ryeowook's forehead, his heart pounding even harder against his ribcage when he came into contact with the clammy skin.

"Drawer..." Ryeowook breathed, his voice raspy and trapped. "The second one..."

Kyuhyun flung himself to the panel of drawers and jerked the second drawer open with a force that nearly dislodged it. He ransacked through the contents, tossing the towels and clothes onto the floor. A brown-tinted bottle rolled into his sight, the pills rattling in their confinement. Ignoring his short-lived moment of joy, he rushed back to Ryeowook's side.

Kyuhyun helped Ryeowook into a sitting position, sliding himself behind so that Ryeowook could lean on him. After a quick scan through the dosage instructions, Kyuhyun shook three pills onto his palm and popped them into Ryeowook's mouth. Ryeowook swallowed with some difficulty.

"Are you going to be fine now?" Kyuhyun's voice was thin with worry. 

Ryeowook could not draw the strength to reply. He rested his head against Kyuhyun's shoulder. His eyes were still shut. Kyuhyun wrapped an arm around Ryeowook and drew him closer in an attempt to find a tangible comfort for his own fear. The planes of Ryeowook's body fitted in his embrace. He took Ryeowook's hand into his own, rubbing small circles on it and silently praying to a God that he hoped existed.

Kyuhyun's worry lifted slightly when Ryeowook's breathing leveled back to normal. The tremors quaking through his body had subsided. His eyes met Kyuhyun's the moment he opened them.

"Feeling better?" Kyuhyun asked softly, searching the eyes that were still distant with the aftermath of the pain. Ryeowook's nodded weakly and disentangled himself from Kyuhyun arms.

"I need to lie down," Ryeowook mumbled coarsely. He curled on his side, facing away from Kyuhyun. He buried his face into the pillow, as if escaping from the questions that were palpable in the air. 

"I'm not going to ask you anything that you don't want to answer," Kyuhyun sighed, resting a hand on Ryeowook's shoulder, thankful that the body was no longer shaking with pain. Ryeowook responded by arching deeper into himself, a signal that the conversation was over.

Kyuhyun pulled the blanket over Ryeowook and stood up. "Rest well. I'll prepare some food so you can have them when you wake up." 

Kyuhyun cast one last look at the hump on the bed and was about to exit the room when the bottle of pills grabbed his attention again. After a while of contemplation, he tucked the small bottle into his pocket and left the room.

Kyuhyun moved to the kitchen and rummaged through the sparse supplies in the fridge. He extracted the only egg and a cabbage, and laid them on the counter beside the stove. He peeled and washed the cabage, filled a pot with water and set it on the flaming stove.

Suddenly, the certainty of his actions halted and a blanket of befuddlement befell. He stared helplessly at the row of condiments before him, realizing that he had no idea how to continue. He turned his head over his shoulder to look at the closed door of the bedroom, wondering if he should consult Ryeowook. He decided against it.

Sighing for the umpteenth time, he extinguished the fire and padded to the coat stand. He pulled his coat on and moved to the threshold of the bedroom. He rapped on the closed door twice.

“Ryeowook, I’m going out for a while. If you need anything… Well, I’ll be back in a jiffy. Will you be okay on your own?” Kyuhyun pressed an ear onto the wood. 

“Ryeowook?” Kyuhyun tried again when all that travelled to his ear was a heavy block of silence. 

When the sediments of paranoia began to effuse, Kyuhyun twisted the door knob and glimpsed into room through a crack. He pinned his eyes on the figure on the bed, his worry settling when it was heaving a steady rhythm. To reassure himself, he tip-toed into the room and peered at Ryeowook’s sleeping face, relieved to see that some color had returned to fill those cheeks. He exited the room and clicked the door shut behind him. 

Kyuhyun left the house and headed east, transcending a few hundred meters of snow-carpeted ground to the next cottage where an elderly couple lived. The frosty bite of the wind pierced his cheeks. His feet were numb by the time they halted on the porch of the neighbors’ cottage.

His knocks were answered by the wife, who seemed pleasantly surprised with his presence. She shepherded him into the warm living room where a carol was playing softly in the background. She brushed snow off his coat with a wrinkled hand and was about to make him a mug of hot chocolate when Kyuhyun stopped her. He hurriedly filled her with the purpose of his visit.

The recipe for cabbage soup turned out to be so fundamental that he had no use for the notebook he had brought. When the wife knew that Ryeowook was sick, she went into the kitchen and returned with a container packed with a dish made with meat.

“It’s important to take in more nutrients when one’s sick, especially for someone as small as him.” She pressed the container into Kyuhyun’s hands and offered him a toothless smile. “I’m glad that he finally has a company this Christmas.” 

Kyuhyun bowed his thanks and left the cottage. The air seemed to have dipped a few degrees colder.  He tucked the warm container in his coat and picked up his pace.

The first thing he did when he got back was to check on Ryeowook, who was still asleep. He returned to the kitchen, turned the stove back on and picked up from where he had left off. Within thirty minutes, cabbage soup bubbled in the pot, its aroma wafting. He smiled, more from the realization that he had the ability to take care of Ryeowook than from the pride of completing the soup.

He placed a lid on the pot and extinguished the fire. He shuffled to the bedroom, his knuckles ready to knock on the door when he decided that rest was probably more important for Ryeowook. He flicked his eyes to the clock and did a quick calculation. He would wake Ryeowook up for lunch in an hour or so.

He sank onto the couch, the deep cotton molding around his body. He stared at the Christmas tree, wondering why yesterday felt more like Christmas than today did. The plans that had been circling in his head were disrupted by a nightmare that had thrown him off his footing. The images of that morning crawled back to haunt him; Ryeowook struggling, trembling, and gasping for air. He shuddered. What would have happened if he hadn’t woken up in time?

Suddenly he remembered something. He dug the bottle of pills from his pockets and held it in his palm for scrutiny. Ryeowook’s name was scrawled at the top of the paper pasted on the bottle. Below it, a long stream of alphabets was strung in a word Kyuhyun had never encountered. He moved his eyes down, his frown deepening when he registered the instructions printed. He felt short of air when he realized the date on which the medicine was prescribed. If Ryeowook was supposed to take three pills a day, the pills should have been fully expended a long time back. 

Ryeowook had been dangerously skipping the medication on the expense of his health. An anger mingled with puzzlement flamed within him, stoking the birth of even more questions. He sat on the couch for a long time, flipping his mind to concoct an explanation for Ryeowook's behavior.

Reality tethered him once again when the bedroom door opened. Kyuhyun looked at the figure standing at the threshold, his anger doused by the fragility of it. Their eyes locked across the distance. Ryeowook's eyes then fell on bottle of pills in Kyuhyun's hand. His lips stretched into a thin line and a hand clutching tightly at the hem of his shirt. The space in between cloyed with salient questions and hidden answers. 

But Kyuhyun would not ask. He had promised Ryeowook so.

Kyuhyun turned away from Ryeowook to look at the window. He realized with a small startle at how much time had sailed by in his deep brooding. The snow reflected with the orange sheen of the setting sun. 

He got up from the couch and cleared his throat.

“I’ll heat the soup up. It’ll be ready in no time.” Kyuhyun flashed a smile as the blue fire of the stove snapped to life. As he stirred the soup, he observed Ryeowook in concern through the corner of his eyes and worry began to nibble again.

Ryeowook’s body swayed slightly as he dragged his feet to the dining table. Kyuhyun had never seen Ryeowook so friable, as though a light push could break him. He watched on, readying his limbs to shift as soon as Ryeowook displayed any signs of falling. 

Kyuhyun exhaled in relief when Ryeowook made it to the dining chair without hiccups. He gathered his divided attention and tended to the soup. He ladled soup into two bowls and brought out the dish given to him earlier on.

It was when he was setting the bowl of soup before Ryeowook, did he realize that the boy had been watching him all these while. He would never forget the profound desolation that marred Ryeowook’s face. The emotion that robbed the light in Ryeowook’s eyes was a sadness that resonated right down to his core. Ryeowook’s lips moved soundlessly, but Kyuhyun could feel the deluge of words trying to break free.

You don’t have to tell me anything if it is painful for you to, he thought.

“You should eat.” Kyuhyun stuffed a spoon into Ryeowook’s hand. He sat across Ryeowook, picked up his own spoon and stirred the soup. “This should be good, if not better than yours,” he joked in an effort to lighten up the atmosphere. But Ryeowook simply stared at the soup, stirring and stirring, but never eating.

“You should start eating,” Kyuhyun reminded with a rare dash of authority that drew Ryeowook back from his faraway thoughts.

“I should,” Ryeowook mumbled in half-hearted agreement. However a sip was all he took before he paused and looked up at Kyuhyun with glassy eyes. 

“Kyuhyun, there’s something I ought to tell you a long time ago.” Ryeowook began in a thick voice underlined with a forced steadiness. Kyuhyun’s heart stalled, unable to react to Ryeowook’s uncharacteristic candor. 

“Kyuhyun, I…” Ryeowook began, but trailed off again when the difficult words failed to be freed. He closed his eyes in despondency. Kyuhyun could see how hard Ryeowook was gripping the spoon to stop his own hand from trembling, and he felt a hard pang in his chest.

“It’s okay,” Kyuhyun reached across the table to hold Ryeowook’s hand, easing the fingers that were latching on to the spoon so tightly that they were turning white. “Later, all right? You need to eat first.” 

“No.” Ryeowook shook his head, dropping his spoon and retracting his hand from Kyuhyun’s hold. “I need to tell you before I choose to be a coward again.”

Kyuhyun mirrored Ryeowook’s actions and brought his fingertips together, bracing himself for the revelation that Ryeowook’s story might unveil. He waited as Ryeowook worked up the courage, hoping that his silence would encourage, and it did.

“You saw how I was in the morning,” Ryeowook started, his tone apologetic. “It’s one of the attacks that remind me that I’m not normal.” He pointed at his own heart, “This thing here is the reason why I’ve been alone for so long.”

“This illness has been a part of me ever since I’ve got memory. I wish I could tell you that this illness hadn’t hindered my life, but that would be a lie. My parents fought all the time because of the cost of my medication.” Ryeowook picked up the spoon once again and began to stir the soup so that he would not have to look at Kyuhyun. “It was ugly when they fight. My Dad would always blame my Mum for giving birth to me. And it would always end with my mother sobbing. I was young back then, but somehow I knew that I was the reason for her tears.”

“I tried to make it up to my parents by being an obedient child. I’d help out with the housework when other kids in the neighborhood frolicked at the playground; I tried to please them by making little gifts from scraps; and I never threw tantrums, not even when they forgot about my birthdays. But –” Ryeowook paused, and Kyuhyun heard the first crack in his voice. “But no matter how obedient I was, I was never good enough for them.”

Ryeowook inhaled and continued. “Then a day came when they decided that they couldn’t take it anymore. What I thought was an outing to the neighboring town became a nightmare when they never returned from the market. I waited on the street the whole night, until I realized that they’re never coming back for me.”

A part of Kyuhyun wanted Ryeowook to stop reliving the nasty past, but it was his curiosity that won.He had to work his words around the rock he felt in his throat. “What happened next?”

“I was sent to the orphanage.” The light in Ryeowook’s eyes dimmed, presaging the unpleasant story that would soon follow. “Everything was fine until I had an attack one day. It threw the people in charge of the orphanage off their feet, because the orphanage did not have sufficient funds to care for my disease. I was put up for urgent adoption. Other kids hated me for messing up their chances of having a family. They shunned me, and I was alone again.

“I was adopted by four different families after that. The first three was complaisant at first, but they eventually balked at the massive medical bills they had to pay. They were just like my parents; no matter how well I behaved myself, I never was good enough for them to justify such expenses.” Ryeowook leaned back against the chair and tilted his head to the ceiling. “And each time I was returned to the orphanage, a part of me dies a little.”

“What about the fourth family?” Kyuhyun asked and Ryeowook gave him a smile so feeble and painful that he wished he hadn’t.

“I thought everything would go well too,” Ryeowook whispered, closing his eyes. “The couple that adopted me was kind, and they were rich. They accepted me for who I am and bit by bit, I lowered my guard and allowed myself to trust them. But when they had their own child, I became dispensable. I was the first thing they gave up when their business took a blow from the economic downturn.

“I was alone all over again. I returned to the orphanage and I turned down the subsequent requests to adopt me. I stopped myself from hoping again; at least I could be spared from getting abandoned over and over again. When I turned of age, I left the orphanage and came to this town.”

Finally Kyuhyun understood the reason behind the loneliness that lined the features, the dejection that carried the frame, and the distrust that never left those eyes. His throat was dry. An ache like never before yanked persistently at his heartstrings. 

“Are all these the reason you stayed alone?” 

Ryeowook nodded, looking away but Kyuhyun never missed the shiny tears that were welling up his eyes. “All I’ve ever wanted is a place that I can belong. And after taking a huge detour, I realized that I could only belong when I’m alone.”

“You’re wrong,” Kyuhyun said suddenly, breaking the short-lived silence. Ryeowook turned to look at him. “You have me now.”

Ryeowook shook his head, forcing a weary smile. “No, you will leave now that you know of my disease. Everyone else did.”

“Then why not continue to keep it to keep me in the dark?”

“It would be unfair to you if I continue to, especially after what had happened this morning.” Ryeowook looked down at his lap. “You know, you can leave anytime. I’m used to being alone.”

“I would rather think the reason you decided to stop keeping me in the dark is because you trust me not to leave even after you tell me your story.” Kyuhyun stood up and rounded to Ryeowook’s side. He hunkered beside Ryeowook and looked up at the boy, the sincerity in his eyes speaking volumes. “And now, I’m telling you that I’ll never leave.”

“Are you lying?” Ryeowook’s lips trembled. “Others had promised similar things too. But look at what had happened in the end.”

“I’m not them.” Kyuhyun clasped his hands over Ryeowook’s. “You’re not going to be alone anymore. I won’t let you. You have me now,” he repeated, his words coming out with a conviction bolder than a vow.

“Promise?” Ryeowook asked uncertainly with tear-filled eyes.

“Promise.” Kyuhyun nodded, but he knew that it would take more than just words for Ryeowook to believe . He rubbed the cold hands in his hold, wondering how long it would take to heal the wounds others had left behind in their thorough rejection. “Would you wipe your tears away while I heat the soup up again?” he grinned, patting Ryeowook’s face affectionately. 

Kyuhyun got up to collect the bowls of soup and moved to the stove. As he waited for the soup to heat up, he turned to look at Ryeowook, who was rubbing his eyes. At that instant, he began to understand the bittersweet emotion swirling within him. It was love, the emotion so highly exalted by humans

It must be love if your heart clenches when the person is hurting. It must be love if you wished that you had met the person earlier so that he wouldn’t need to experience the wretchedness of life. It must be love if you allowed yourself to contemplate the possibility of an eternity with that person.

It had to be.

Because if this wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.

TBC

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