[A/N: Well, this is it folks. The last chapter. It's been fun writing this story and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. ^^ Thank you to all my readers and subscribers, silent or not, I love you! See y'all again!]

I gaze out the display window, sitting on the counter, my legs hanging off the edges as Minho was painting something for yet another customer. I watch as people passed, some of them smiling at me in a silent, friendly greeting. I didn’t know why I found them scary when they were actually quite harmless and nice. Well, at least most of them.

The Summer season was coming to an end, and the hot season was fading away, only to be replaced by the cool wind that got everybody into their warm scarves and gloves. I’m more excited than ever, finally getting to experience Autumn, smiling as I watch some amber-coloured leaves fall onto the already leaf-contaminated ground.

Kibum must be here now, and maybe he’s spending some time with Jonghyun.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around me, and I don’t need to look to know who, but I still do either way, wanting to see those beautiful eyes once more. I didn’t think I would ever get used to all the emotion and love swimming in Minho’s beautiful pair.

“Are you done?” I ask him softly, turning back to the window and leaning against him. He hums deep in his throat, and I wiggle out of his grasp to jump off the counter to see the painting, once again taken aback by how he managed to actually make an atmosphere in it. Children, five of them, holding hands and dancing in a circle in the backyard, looking so happy and joyful that I smile, too, almost wanting to actually be in the painting to join the fun.

“It’s pretty,” I tell Minho, who was now standing next to me and also studying his own work of art. When I turn to look at him, I see that he’s gazing out the window just like I had earlier, watching the leaves fall. And with that sad, longing look in his eyes, I know he misses his friend Kibum.

For a moment, I wonder if I miss Jonghyun, because we’ve never actually spent time together. There was not enough memory of him for me to miss him, but I did want to see him again, because he seemed very interesting, and I wanted to get to know him better.

Just as I’m about to comfort my lover, a familiar face enters the door, and I smile immediately at the constant customer.

“Hi, Taemin, Minho,” he greets first, smiling and nodding to us both. “I’m here to pick up the painting. I assume it should be done by now.”

“Hey, Yunho,” Minho greets him back before I could, and I just smile at him in acknowledgement. “It’s done, I just have to go look for it,” Minho adds, walking over to a stack of paintings leaning against the wall.

“I can’t wait to see it!” Yunho exclaims excitedly, and I chuckle.

“You won’t be disappointed,” I assure him.

“Minho’s never disappointed me,” he replies, grinning cheekily, just as Minho pulls out the large canvas from the stack and removes the newspapers that wrapped it for protection. When it’s revealed, my breath once again is taken, even though I’d already seen it a few times, and Yunho was more amazed than I was.

He then fussed over the painting of a mysterious, doll-like man in the painting, his eyes so intense that it was as if he was actually the real thing, staring right at me. It took Yunho thirty minutes to calm down, and then Minho handed him back the picture that he based his painting on, and then Yunho had given extra tax, before he left with a satisfied grin on his face, the canvas in his arm.

“That went well,” Minho murmured beside me, keeping the money into the machine. I nod as he walks around me, pecking me on the temple as he did, before he starts cleaning his stuff up, going into the washroom to clean the paint off his brushes and his hands and most likely his clothes, and then comes back with all his materials in his special box.

I’ve memorized it all by now, his routines and his habits, like how he’d always forget to turn the lights off in the washroom, and when I’d tell him he’d sputter cutely, like how he always kept his special box on the first step of the stairs, but on the end of the day he’d move it into the storage room, on the top shelf.

Having spent almost a month at his place now, it would be absurd for me to not memorize everything he did, especially with the way I watch him.

“We’re closing up early today,” he announced softly, brushing some cookie crumbs off the sofa before sitting on it, and automatically I fill the space next to him.

“Why?” I ask him.

“I want to go out with you. We don’t go out enough, and I just want to show you around some more,” he replies, smiling softly at me, eyes so filled with love that it makes my heart flutter.

I press my lips together. “Well, you took me to the mall, and the convenience store,” I point out.

“Just in case you’d need something while I’m not around—not that I’d actually leave. Just... just in case a situation comes where I need to be out for awhile. I mean, what if you get hungry and we don’t have food in the fr—Yeah, you should get my point.” He chuckles at himself. “This time, I just want to spend some time with you, want you to enjoy yourself.”

I nod and smile back at him. “Although, the convenience store is pretty fun to me.”

He gives me an incredulous look, before his head rolls back as he laughs boisterously. “If you say so!”

I giggle along with him, although not really knowing what’s so funny. We were in the middle of planning our night when the entrance bell rings and we both turn to look as another familiar face enters, my lips instantly curving in a grin.

“Hiya, guys! I’m back!” Krystal exclaims, her arms extending out for a hug. I get up and give her a tight one, before drinking in her appearance, clad in a red woven scarf, a beige sweater and those dark, super tight jeans again, her hair dark as night, flowing over her shoulders.

I hear Minho softly sigh as he gets up, but Krystal is oblivious to it. “Hey, Krys,” he greets, his voice blank and strained, and I glance at him, wondering what’s wrong. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to hang out with Taemin, if that’s okay,” she replies giddily, grinning up at him.

Minho doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then he glances between my friend and I, caution hidden behind the mask in his eyes. I smile reassuringly, still wondering why he’s acting so strange. The moment he gives a stiff nod, Krystal is dragging me back to the sofa, pulling me down to sit.

“Guess what!” she squeals, biting her lip to contain her excitement.

“Um... I give up.” I smile at her usual happy persona. Her aura was pretty nice, too, warm and joyful and quite contagious.

“Donghae is taking me on a date!” she exclaims, squealing once more and rolling back into the sofa, her legs curled up in a way that told me she was way too happy about this. I glance at Minho, who’s sitting on the counter with a blank expression, and even his eyes showed that he didn’t care.

“Didn’t he already take you on a date though?” I ask, chuckling softly.

Krystal’s squealing stops abruptly and she makes an expression of mock-annoyance. “That wasn’t a date; we just went out for ice cream, is all.”

“Oh, I see. Well, that’s great then. I hope you enjoy your—um—date,” I mumble, even though I didn’t exactly understand the meaning of a date.

“Oh, you bet I will!” she laughs. I glance at Minho again, who looked completely unchanged.

Krystal and I chat for a little while longer, before she said she had to go meet somebody else and she just came to pass by, and before I knew it, she was gone again. I didn’t worry, though. She’d visited this place many times before since I told her where I lived now, and I doubt she was going to stop.

I turn back to Minho once the entrance door is shut. “What’s the matter?” I ask him, worry spilling out of my lips.

He shakes his head, looking down at his intertwined hands. I pout, leaning against him. “Come on, tell me.”

“I don’t like her,” he says suddenly, and I could hear more than see him pout.

“W-well, why not?” I ask again, voice cracking. What was wrong with Krystal?

“She hugs you too much, and I don’t like it.” He finally looks up, showing me the pout that I knew was there. It was so cute that I nearly squeal like Krystal just had.

“We’re just friends, though,” I say, chuckling.

“Well, tell her to stop,” he whines, and then I laugh. Was Minho acting jealous?

“There’s no need to worry about her. I only love you, and you know that,” I reassure him, holding his face so he looks into my eyes, trying not to get affected by all the love I see in his pair.

“I love you, too, but—“

“We still have somewhere to go? This fun place you speak of, yeah?”

Minho had said he brought only one pair of gloves on purpose, so we could use one each, and my un-gloved hand would have to hold his to keep it warm. He wrapped a blue scarf around my neck, and then a red one around his own, before he help me put on a jacket.

We walked hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, into a nice, lonesome, but beautiful park somewhere far away from home. There were trees all over, and the place was so far away from town that we were the only people there.

And it was a shame no one else was there to see such amazing beauty, the trees lined up almost infinitely, their leaves in some hues of amber and orange and brown, falling like snow, the ground covered in them, making crisp sounds with every step we took.

Vaguely I could recognize the place to be the same one Minho had painted Kibum in, and it was as if he could read my mind when he said, “I saw Kibum here.”

I turn to him, surprised. And then he smiles warmly. “Yeah, sometimes we’re allowed to still see them. We can even still do this.” He lets out his hand and let a single snowflake fall onto his palm, and for a moment my heart aches because I miss the times where it was just the two of us, like this, with no humans, with Minho having the beautiful deep red eyes and the very dark blue hair yet pale, icy complexion. And I missed having to share my warmth with him, missed being able to make plants and flowers grow, to beautify the Earth.

But all it took for him to do was kiss my forehead and I was fine again.

We walk toward a bench that had a perfect view of the nature park, and we both appreciate the silence, how there was nobody there but us. Watching as leaves fall onto the ground, some of them falling onto us and laughing when they get to our hair.

I stare at Minho as he continues to watch his surroundings, his eyes distant yet loving as always, his complexion pale but his nose and cheeks flushed red, his deep brown hair now long enough to reach his neck and nearly his eyes.

And he was so beautiful I could barely look away, my heart aching so badly because I loved him so much. And the fact that he loved me back almost got tears in my eyes. Mentally, I promise myself that I will always be by his side, and I will always love him because he deserved it.

This is the prize, Minho. You went through your punishment, but this is what you get out of it. Me.

He glances at me, and then turns to me, a small smile upon his lips, and I’m still staring at him, loving him so much that it hurt so bad, and wondering if he felt it. He lets out a chuckle, his happy expression so precious that it almost hurt to look at him.

I love you so much.

“I love you, too, Taemin,” he whispers, closing my eyes before I could even wonder how he did that, kissing my forehead, then my eyelids, my cheeks, the tip of my nose, all done with such care and gentleness, before finally my lips. My heart tickling and jumping and swirling and tingling at the feeling of his soft lips against mine, kissing with our hearts on the tips of our tongues.

We pull back together and stare into each other’s eyes once more, knowing what’s said without words. And then he glances elsewhere, before he chuckles and whispers, “Look who’s here.”

I turn to look, seeing no one at first, until he tells me to look deeper, and I finally see it.

A person, clothes all white and shining like silk, his hair is blonde and from afar I can’t see his face, until he walks closer, but he doesn’t seem to notice us. In fact, I just realize that he can’t see us, too intrigued by how he was so unclear, faded, and almost invisible. And then it takes me awhile to realize, it’s Kibum!

I’m so excited that I stand and almost run to him, but Minho grabs me and holds me back, saying in a hushed tone, “Don’t. He’ll disappear when you acknowledge his presence.”

I pout, wanting to meet the person I’ve only ever heard about for centuries, wanting to meet him, until I see that he’s actually talking to someone that I had yet to see, and only when I looked harder did I find Jonghyun there, too, grinning and looking so happy that I grin along with him. Watching as he gazes at Kibum the same way Minho does me. And they’re both faded, color-less, see-through.

“Is that—?” Minho gasps, his voice slightly louder but controlled.

“Jonghyun.” I smile.

The moment we’re home, Minho pulls out a large canvas and starts to paint, and I smile, taking his jacket and his gloves and his scarf upstairs and arranging them in his closet, before getting changed in some more comfortable clothes.

By the time I’m back down, Minho is so into his painting that he fails to acknowledge my presence, but I don’t mind. This is what he loves to do, and I love that it makes him happy. And to be honest, it makes me happy, too.

I close the curtains of the display window and prepare us dinner, leaving Minho’s plate on the counter and eating mine, hungry from our peaceful, yet fun adventure, the scene of Jonghyun and Kibum walking by the woods replaying in my head.

When Minho is done painting, I’m lying on the sofa, thinking about Kibum and how beautiful he was that I couldn’t even describe him. And I’m so into my thoughts that I don’t notice Minho’s done until his chair makes that scratching sound against the floor, another habit that he had.

I turn my head toward him, to see that he’s smiling back at me, the painting hidden behind his back. I pout and he chuckles, before moving aside and letting me see the painting of Jonghyun and Kibum, both barely seen but there all the while, the trees and the falling leaves all done so perfectly that it felt like I’m back there. And it’s when my chest starts to hurt when I realize that I’ve stopped breathing, my brain too amazed by the painting before me.

And the aura was there, the atmosphere so light and peaceful and comfortable and loving. When I look at Minho, he’s looking at me with those eyes again, before he gives his beautiful crooked smile and sits next to me when I sit up.

We didn’t need words. All I knew was that I loved Minho and he loved me back and it seemed it was all that mattered to me. Just I and he and the whole world could fall apart and I would never care as long as he was with me.

We stayed like that for hours, sitting on the sofa with his arm securely wrapped around me. We were both falling asleep, and I was ready for tomorrow. I’m always ready for tomorrow now, knowing that I’m where I belong, as a human and even as an Angel, or a Season Changer or a Season Descender: in Minho’s arms.

The next morning, while I’m taking a rest from preparing the shop to open up, Minho sits next to me on the sofa, gently placing something on my hair, and then his hands circle my neck, seeming to be putting on a necklace.

I furrow an eyebrow at him, wondering what was going on, until my hand instinctively reaches up so my finger can brush against the pendant, knowing right away that it’s the one he had given me back then, so long ago, the necklace with the beautiful, shimmering snowflake. And I don’t need to look to know that on my head was the crown made of ice that he had made for me.

I stare at him, a little teary-eyed, but before I could even gasp out a word, he smiles and shakes his head, before gazing at the blue flower that was in the vase, both of us noticing how it looked more beautiful than ever, bright and blooming.

And that’s how, somehow, we both know that no matter what would happen, have it us being in two different worlds, or us not knowing each other anymore, one way or another, we would still end up together, soul mates, eternal lovers, and we would never break apart.