"Alright, let us begin again," Ravi sighed. "L... M... N... O."

Taekwoon looked up at him, head tilted to one side, and blinked slowly. "L... Emmmm... Ennnnnn... O..." He gripped the charcoal tightly in his right hand, his grip awkward and wrist shaking from the pressure he was attempting to apply to the paper as he tried to copy the letters Ravi had modelled for him at the top of the page. But he didn't like it. His markings didn't look as pretty and his lines weren't as smooth. Instead, he found his characters to be uneven and jagged; either too large or too small. He let out a huff and dropped the charcoal, feeling the muscles in his hand gradually begin to relax.

"Oh dear," Ravi smirked, resting his chin on his palm "You're quite impatient, aren't you?" He watched as the boy ignored him, pulling out Hakyeon's handkerchief and running his fingers over the soft fabric. It had been little over a week since she had last paid a visit and Taekwoon appeared to be pining. He always had the thing near him; in the bathtub, in bed... and Ravi could not deny the pang of jealousy he felt. A small, sharp tingling in his chest and a dull weight in the back of his head. After all, was he not the one who had found Taekwoon? Brought him into his home? Bathed him? Clothed him? Why did Hakyeon get all the boy's attention? 

He pouted and took the paper from Taekwoon, slipping it into his journal along with all the other pieces of writing he had been practising. "Jaehwan should be coming by this evening with the results of your tests," he told him, getting to his feet and opening up one of the cupboards under the window "I'm still not sure what he is hoping to find. Blood testing seems to be a new craze amongst doctors at the moment." But Taekwoon was paying him no mind as he pushed his chair back, folding his arms in front of him and laying his head down while Ravi continued to potter around getting out a few pieces of bread and a small pot of jam. He spread a minimal amount onto all the slices before putting the glass container away again, for he had learned the hard way that his guest was quite capable of finishing off a whole jar with merely a spoon in his hand. Or his fingers. He didn't seem to discriminate.

In fact, utensils didn't seem very familiar to him at all. He could hold them well enough and was able to mimic Ravi during meals but seemed more comfortable using his hands. 

Ravi watched with the plate in his hand as the boy kicked off his shoes (another thing he seemed to dislike) and crossed his legs before returning to his laying position, gazing with wide eyes out the window at the midday sun. He sighed heavily and came forward, putting their lunch down and tucking in. As much as he wished he could let the boy outside, he didn't want to risk it. Taekwoon still couldn't speak the common tongue beyond a few simple words and phrases- let alone understand it- and Ravi was sure that he had never been into town before. The boy would get himself into all sorts of trouble, he could tell. 

But he seemed so very sad.

The past few days had seen Taekwoon sitting by the window in either the kitchen or spare bedroom, having views out onto the golden fields. He had made a habit out of reaching down under the windowsill and picking weeds and flowers growing outside, putting them inside his pillowcase, dirtying the light blue fabric with multi-coloured stains and smears. Sometimes, Ravi would permit him to come upstairs to the attic to watch him work.  He couldn't help the burning stench of the paint fumes or the stiff, dirty sheets that covered the floor but, upon seeing the kaleidoscope of colours on the canvases, Taekwoon seemed to brighten up. He seemed fascinated by the figures he saw and enjoyed to run the tips of his fingers over the lines and shapes. It was like he had n