It was at the fireplace. 

It was at the fireplace with the flame and the warmth that Taekwoon shivered that night. So many times, so much coldness running down his spine that his mind went numb. The colar no more sat delicately around his pale neck, it choked him. Not his urge to shed tears, he convinced himself.

His hand slowly fell down from Wonshik's lap, left a small thud on the floor. Taekwoon was scared, scared of being known that he was scared. He didn't even want his master to keep on running through his hair anymore, in fear of being caught.
 
Wonshik looked down from his chair, with warm words that are as hard as steel.

"What's wrong?"

Something stopped him from obediently answer, something stucked in his throat. He was afraid. And Taekwoon cursed himself for ed up such a small thing. His body was red. As red as the fireplace.

"Are you sick, Taekwoonie?"

Caring.

"I'm- a bit dizzy, masters."

And he was sent to his room, where his bed then was soaked with crystal tears.

It was that time.

It was the time Taekwoon wanted to shatter into pieces, into dust even, carried through the wind to have the right to follow his feelings. To be with his masters unconditionally. 

It was the time he think such thought was impossible.