It’s winter when they meet.

In Summer, Kyungsoo tells himself that he likes Winter the best. In Winter, he tells himself that he likes Summer the best. He likes the romance of Winter, but not the cold. He likes the warmth of Summer, but not the sweat.

It’s January and the air is light, but bitter. It’s not weighed down, thick with the suffocating humidity of high Summer, but it nips and bites. The temperature is akin to sitting in an icebox. It chaps lips and it cracks fingertips. It’s softened, however, by the sweet tang of the roast chestnut vendors on the street. The smell seeps its way slowly through the air, as if the caramelised sugar makes it heavy and lethargic. It brings the air into itself with sticky, honeyed tendrils, embracing it until it pushes away all other scents. Kyungsoo always thinks that it has a faint bottom note of urine.

He can’t feel his toes anymore. The air is so cold that it stings his lungs, like he’s trying to breathe in shards of glass. He sees the warm, inviting glow of his favourite place up ahead and thinks that it’s worth it. It’s worth it for a cup of spiced hot chocolate. It’s worth it to see his friends.

These friends have four legs. Four legs and curly coats. Tiny toy poodles with wet noses and gentle paws and Kyungsoo loves them. He has friends with two legs, of course, but they don’t come with the same kind of unconditional love as these friends do. They don’t greet him in a whirl of high pitched yaps and soft paw prints on the knees, pliant and yielding as they roll over for tummy rubs. This is his favourite place. He loves the little animals because they’re so innocent and naïve in their own love. They’ll love you as long as you’re kind.

Today, he’s given the table by the window. He doesn’t mind, but he does prefer somewhere a little less … visible. With the window seat comes the people staring through it with oohs and ahhs, amused laughter as they watch the dogs, but don’t come in. Kyungsoo sits there, quiet, placid, with a book in one hand, the other scratching behind the ears of the sleeping pup in his lap. There are three others around him, all curled up and asleep, as if his quiet nature is enough to make them feel safe. He hopes that it is.

It’s warm and cosy in the dainty café. The atmosphere is quiet and relaxed, gentle, reminiscent of humans pouring over sleeping babies. It feels so heart achingly safe when outside is cold, dark and currently swirling in falling snow. Kyungsoo turns a page, but something outside draws his attention. He notices, quietly, vaguely in the back of his mind, that the same pair of legs have been standing there for quite a while. The legs are attached to a Someone, he notes when his eyes flick upwards, gazing up at this Someone through curling lashes. The Someone is a he and has snow all in his hair. He looks like a bad dandruff advert, Kyungsoo thinks, and the corners of his lips tug upwards into a small, amused smile. His attention returns to his book, though, and he doesn’t realise it when he forgets about the Someone. He also doesn’t realise it when the pair of legs turn towards the door.

He still doesn’t realise it when soft, quiet eyes are watching him from across the room. Crinkling in a smile as they watch another dog jump up and settle on the alabaster skinned boy’s knees, earning a tinkling laugh. “Ribbon, be careful. You’ll step on poor Haru.” Kyungsoo scolds gently, but with a smile and every word dripping with tenderness, as if they don’t want to be outdone by the heart shape his lips make.

This time, though, he does realise it when the same pair of legs appear next to him.

“Hey, doe eyes. Want another drink?”