He falls asleep in one of Wonshik’s T-shirts, and his pillow pressed hard against his stomach, crying tears he thought he didn’t have anymore.

Taekwoon remembers the first time he met Wonshik as if it had only been yesterday, whereas, in fact, it happened almost 17 years ago.

“We still have about sixty years to spend together, don’t we?”

Wonshik doesn’t know exactly when it started. He wonders what made him fall; what has pulled him to Taekwoon like they were the north and south poles of two magnets.

Hongbin dreads falling in love, but he feels more and more like there’s no way back this time.

“I love you so much that nothing can matter to me—not even you. Can you understand that? Only my love—not your answer. Not even your indifference.” (Ayn Rand - The Fountainhead)

Jaehwan is the heat of the sun in mid-July and Hongbin is the frost on a windowpane on the chilliest winter morning.