Slowly spring warmed into summer. Hot days were followed by cool nights and were broken up by sudden blustering storms. Fortunately, there was no signs of rain tonight, which was good because Woohyun was not prepared for it. He had nothing but a thin white button-down, ripped jeans, his guitar, and a song on his lips. He was busking again. His song joined in with the buzzing of the cicadas and the murmur of passing crowds. His eyes were down on his inked hands, watching them dance along the strings of the guitar. Sometimes Woohyun was too nervous to look up and see what people his song drew in. Other times he was anxious to see his catch and his eyes would search for people to lure in. As for tonight, he was more than nervous; he was creeping closer to terrified with every shadow that passed him by. There was a certain person Woohyun wanted to see in the crowds tonight. Would he be there? Would tonight finally be the night when he comes again?

For two people who talk about music so much, they rarely listened to it together.

However, tonight was the night that they did.

Even though Woohyun had never heard it before, he immediately recognized Sunggyu’s clapping amidst the applause. Something about the rhythm and the sound carried his signature; something uniquely him, like that sweet, floral scent that now filled the air. And sure enough, when Woohyun finally raised his head, there Sunggyu was.

“Do you come here often?” the florist asked once the other approached him after the song had finished and the crowd thinned out.

“I have a friend who likes to play nearby,” Sunggyu replied. Woohyun narrowed his eyes on the man. Was he being coy or telling the truth?

“Who?”

Sunggyu had been telling the truth: “Myungsoo. The guy who does acoustic covers of everything.” The nymph mimicked soft plucking of guitar strings. And Woohyun stared at the other’s hands as he gathered his things. Should leaves be browning so soon? When summer hadn’t yet reached its peak?

Sunggyu pulled down his sleeves, covering his hands. And Woohyun resumed the play of indifference, or tried to. “Myungsoo?” But the way he said that name made the nymph grin slyly. Truth be told, Woohyun knew exactly who Sunggyu was talking about. The florist fancied himself a siren, with his voice luring unwitting men to his corner of the street. But the true siren in this quarter of the block, suburb, and perhaps world was Myungsoo. It wasn’t his voice that enraptured his victims. It was the almost godlike face the man had.

Woohyun seized at that thought. Siren? Almost godlike? His gaze fell on the living god next to him. “Is he…”

Sunggyu nodded. “He’s the spirit of the pine tree near my cottage,” now that was the voice of indifference.

And perhaps it was because he’d said it so casually, it made Woohyun even more dumbstruck. “Eh?”

“Oh! There he is! Myungsoo-yah! Over here!” Although Sunggyu had waved his fellow nymph to come over to them, Myungsoo wasn’t walking towards them fast enough, probably because he was just as lost and confused as Woohyun was at the moment. But that confusion morphed into a smile when he was brought into Sunggyu’s hug and then dragged over to the florist.

“Do you guys know each other?” Myungsoo asked, cautiously looking from the one to the other. And Woohyun was doing the same, from the hand gripping at Myungsoo’s shoulder to the one at Sunggyu’s waist.

Sunggyu let go of his fellow nymph and stepped aside as he gestured over at Woohyun. “He’s the guy from Miss Gong’s place that I told you about.”

Myungsoo’s jaw dropped. “Wait, really? You are?” he stammered. After Woohyun nodded, the nymph broke out into a boisterous laugh and hugged his fellow busker. “Wow! I would’ve never guessed! Wah! You’re a florist, huh?” excitement poured out from Myungsoo. Sadly, Woohyun couldn’t match it. There was something about this evergreen nymph that put him on edge. Even the hug made his skin prickle as if the other was truly covered in pine needles.

Maybe it was the pale, inked hand that was now patting down Myungsoo’s dark brown hair.

“Do you want to come eat with us?” Sunggyu asked his fellow nymph who nodded enthusiastically.

And Woohyun was pushed closer to the edge. What would happen if he were to fall? Would anyone catch him before he crashed to the ground?

That same pale hand, with skeletal branches climbing down his fingers, pulled Woohyun from the metaphorical edge and into the seat next to him at the table. Woohyun somehow completely missed how the ‘Do you want to come eat with us?’ was really directed to him and not Myungsoo. He’d (embarrassingly) still assumed that Sunggyu came to watch him perform. No, he came to meet with Myungsoo. Woohyun was the one that invaded their plans like an unwelcomed weed, an outsider, the lone human among magical beings. Immortal beings? Just how old were these men next to him? If they were nymphs, why were they eating fried chicken and drinking beer? And how could Sunggyu compliment Myungsoo’s pinecones so openly like this, in the middle of a restaurant?

Woohyun had never felt his humanness more in his life and resented it.

Myungsoo turned to side to get the waitress’ attention, and Woohyun caught a glimpse of the painted green needles at the base of his neck. So vivid, so lively, if you touched them, would it hurt? Woohyun looked down at his own hands, at the slowly fading and discolored tattoos. Even in this respect, they were on vastly different levels.

“They’re about ready to harvest. You wouldn’t mind if Woohyun helps out, do you?”

Myungsoo turned back around and gave the gardener a thin grin. “Of course not. I wouldn’t mind if Woohyun-ssi handled my pinecones at all.”

“What?” Woohyun was distracted from his insecurities. He gave an anxious laugh. “What am I doing?”

“Look,” Sunggyu began. “You’re coming to the garden anyways this week, so you might as well make yourself useful.” Although he’d so casually assigned Woohyun to manual labor, Sunggyu did seem to have a shred in guilt in doing so. “His pine nuts are delicious. You should try them.”

“I should?” Woohyun challenged. His mind was desperately trying to work out where in Myungsoo’s anatomy were these nuts.

“Have him take some of my needles too,” Myungsoo turned the already strange conversation into a stranger one. “They make great potpourri. Very fragrant. See,” he then offered his wrist for Woohyun to smell, which he did out of politeness and then again out of sheer fascination. It was like freshly sharpened pencils. No, it was like he was soaked in gin. Woohyun then winced at the realization. It was pine, of course. And it was just unusual to have a human smell so much like a tree.

But then again Myungsoo wasn’t human, was he?

“Hm, very nice,” Woohyun muttered below his breath. His eyes flitted around the room before falling back onto his dining partners. It was so incredibly obvious that these men were nymphs from their looks, to how they talked, to even their smell. Shouldn’t they have a better sense of awareness than this? What if the wrong people found out? What would happen then? Woohyun didn’t want to know, and so he warned them,“But should you guys be talking about this so openly? It’s…”

“Only you know what we’re really talking about,” Sunggyu had cut him off, leaning into him and whispering. Gone was the strong scent of pine from the air. Only a honey-like sweetness breathed around him as Sunggyu continued to rant lowly into his ear, “Everyone else will think we work at a plant nursery.” The gardener then pulled away and patted the other on the shoulder. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Woohyun stared at the two nymphs, creatures of fantasies, figments of men’s imagination as wild as nature itself. But here they were, inhabiting the same realm as Woohyun, eating fried chicken from the same plate. They were real. Woohyun could talk with them, touch them, smell them. To Woohyun, nymphs were no longer creatures of whimsical fancy, but they still were to everyone else around him. No one would believe Woohyun if he were to suddenly get up on the table and shout to the whole restaurant that there were nymphs in their midst, and if they existed, who’s to say what else was out there? Fairies? Goblins? Gumihos? Gods? Woohyun would be quickly plucked out from the place like the weed he was and thrown into a hospital.

Woohyun scoffed and finally relaxed. Human skepticism was the nymphs’ greatest protection. And it would be Woohyun’s too. Even though he was a weed in the garden of nymphs, he was welcomed. He was allowed to be there, grow alongside them and share in their sunlight. Woohyun saw himself as a weed, but the only difference between a weed and a flower is judgement.

And in the nymphs’ eyes, he came into the garden just as naturally as the rest of them.

It became more evident as the night wore on just how natural it was for Woohyun to be with them.

“So how’s everyone doing?” Myungsoo asked.

Sunggyu shrugged and answered before tearing into the last wing. “Alright, same as usual.”

“Except that whitebeam,” Woohyun brought up and nudged the gardener. “It’s not looking healthy. Remember?”

“Ah, right!” Sunggyu spat out like a curse. “Thanks for reminding me.” He then looked over at Myungsoo. “I have to tell Jiae to come back home. I don’t know why she spends so much time at the seaside when she knows the air isn’t good for her.”

Myungsoo shook his head, while wearing a small smile. “She’ll come back eventually, but she’ll stay there longer if you tell her to come home,” he spoke up. “She’s stubborn like that.”

Woohyun sputtered into a laugh. “Sounds familiar. It must be something in the water over there,” he teased. He shot a quick glance over at Sunggyu before taking a drink from his glass. The nymph was just as offended as Woohyun hoped he’d be.

“I’m not stubborn!” Sunggyu argued, punching the gardener in the arm. “I’m just right. Right, Myungsoo?” The other nymph distractedly nodded as he ate. Apparently, it was a reflex to just agree with Sunggyu, learned after a long time of living together. They were like brothers; Woohyun was starting to get it now. Although they were all seated at the same table, the air differed from one side to the other. Where Woohyun was, it was warm, almost to the point of stifling. But he still shivered when Sunggyu patted his arm. “Does it really hurt? You’re pouting.”

“A bit,” Woohyun lied. But the truth was that the punch was as weak as water, and Woohyun watched another shriveled, dead leaf fall from a branch on Sunggyu’s forearm. While there were still things about nymphs that Woohyun did not know, he knew flowers very well. Something was wrong.

But he wouldn’t be able to discover what it was tonight. The night was over once the chicken was nothing more than bones and their glasses were emptied. And while the nymphs went home together, Woohyun went away, carrying the parting hug that he and Sunggyu shared in his heart. A smile bloomed on his face.

“Ah, I left my sketchbook at home!”

Joochan was about to go right back out of the shop that he’d just come into seconds earlier. He still came in about twice a week to sketch flowers in their store, which Woohyun had never questioned until now. Why come to this cold, almost sterile place to sketch when Joochan dwelled among beds of roses?

Woohyun wasn’t going to ask him, but he was going to take advantage of this chance. “I can give you a ride over to the garden if you need it,” he suggested already reaching for the truck’s keys.

“The garden?” Joochan stopped in his tracks and shot the florist a shocked look. “But I live in a dormitory up the block.”

“You all….don’t have a place…near the garden?” Woohyun arranged his wording carefully. His coworkers (fortunately in the backroom) could be listening.

“No,” the nymph replied with a shake of his head. “I mean, I did a few years ago, when I was still a minor. But only Sunggyu and mom live there now,” he revealed. “It’s just easier to live closer to the city, you know?”

“You don’t need to stay with your tree?” There went any trace of subtlety. It was trampled underfoot by Woohyun’s curiosity.

“Oh, I understand your confusion now!” Joochan exclaimed, and his subsequent laugh was even louder than his words, possibly drawing the attention of the men in the backroom. Sadly Joochan didn’t take the hint when Woohyun kept pressing a finger to his lips, as the young nymph ranted on, “Back in the way, way, way old days, like Sungyeol-old, nymphs used to always stick by their tree, bush, or whatever. But at some point in time, I don’t know when, I was never good at history, but at some point, we worked out a system. One nymph stays behind and watches after us so that the rest of us can live with the humans. Like this.” At some point Woohyun gave up on trying to silence Joochan because his curiosity once again got the better of him, especially when Joochan said, “Sunggyu-hyung protects us.”

And even though he’d heard those words before, the weight of them finally fell upon him. And it probably still wasn’t as heavy as the responsibility that Sunggyu bore. Woohyun crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. “Did he volunteer or…”

“Mom picked him,” Joochan interjected. “And she always knows best. I can’t imagine anyone else doing his job. Can you imagine Sungyeol-hyung doing it?” He shivered at that thought, but before Woohyun could pry any further, the nymph flew out the door. “Anyway, I’ll be back in a jiffy, hyung!”

“O-oh,” Woohyun gave that pitiful excuse for a ‘goodbye.’ His mind was busy arranging the new information, trying to sort out the foundation from the focal point from the floaters. Like a busy and incoherent flower arrangement, his mind’s eye didn’t know what to settle on for a while. Then it stopped. And Woohyun closed his eyes.

“How lonely,” he muttered below his breath.

But he’d forgotten that he himself was not alone. Dongwoo popped out of the back room with Jangjun trailing close behind him. “Do you know what Joochan told me yesterday?” he brought up along with an arm full of stems.

“What?” Woohyun took the bait.

“When I asked him where he grew up, he said ‘In a garden next to Sungyeol-hyung,’” Dongwoo replied, furrowing his brows. Whereas Woohyun’s shot up his forehead. Joochan, that boy really had little sense of self preservation. “Does that mean they’re brothers or cousins?”

“Maybe,” it wasn’t Woohyun’s place to reveal much more than that.

Dongwoo shook his head, not accepting any of it. Not Woohyun’s answer or Joochan’s. “I really can’t figure out the lingo kids use nowadays. What could it mean? Garden? Like he’s a beauty like a flower?” Dongwoo guessed, and it drew a surprise laugh from his friend, which confused Dongwoo all the more. “Did he really say ‘garden’? Maybe it was Gangwon? No…Gwacheon? Gangneug?”

“Don’t think about it too much, Dongwoo,” Woohyun said and patted the other’s shoulder. Luckily, the phone rang and derailed the conversation. “I’ll take this call. You just continue what you’re doing. Good work.”

Dongwoo never brought up the garden again, and as for Jangjun, Woohyun could never tell if he’d overheard or not. But the youngest had enough tact to act like he hadn’t.

As life goes on, it changes. Some are cyclical like the seasons, slowly transitioning from one to the next. Leaves spring to new life, filling the branches; they burst into the brightest colors before becoming dull and falling onto the ground. It was predictable. Sungyeol’s tattoo shop often took a few weeks off around this time every year. Woohyun thought nothing of it. Sure, that meant he wouldn’t see his friend for a while, but he was used to it. These things happened.

Some changes bring about others. Since the tattoo parlor was closed, Joochan didn’t come by to sketch for a week. Eventually he came in again, uncharacteristically quiet as he carefully drew white chrysanthemums for hours. Once again, Woohyun thought nothing of it.

At times, changes can be so minute that it could be hard to notice them. Myungsoo was still busking with his acoustic guitar. This night, he settled on ballads. His fingers slowly meandered down the strings as his eyes were fixed onto the ground.

“It seems like someone is praying for someone else

I think I can quietly hear the written love poem

I hope it flies to you and reaches the destination before it’s too late…”

He stopped, pursing his lips and gripping onto the guitar. His head wilted lower. Woohyun stepped away from the crowd and sat down next to the other. Silently, he asked for the guitar, and after being given it, Woohyun sang the song that Myungsoo couldn’t.

“I’ll be there, behind you who’s walking alone

Singing till the end, this song which will never end

Just take a moment and listen closely

For you who is walking an unusually long night, I will sing.”

Myungsoo joined him for a few lines here and there, but his voice failed him. And it still did when the song was over. So the nymph expressed his feelings with a hug, holding tightly onto Woohyun and for a long time. Myungsoo mouthed ‘thank you’ to him before gathering his things and walking into the dark night, alone and still wilted.

Woohyun had thought about Myungsoo afterwards, but not nearly as much as he should have.

The worst kind of change is completely unperceivable as it creeps in and seeps into the soil. You soak it in, not knowing what’s going on, and before you know it, everything has changed. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Sunggyu was texting him happily and as regularly as usual. They even called each other, chatted casually, and ate with each other a few times.

Woohyun could think nothing of it because Sunggyu wouldn’t let him.

It wasn’t until Woohyun came to the garden one weekend when he noticed how much things had changed. Of course the seasons brought on significant changes within the garden’s walls. New plants were flowering and others were losing petals. But time brought more than just blossoms to this place.

“So your nectar is poison,” Woohyun showed off the fruits of his research. Every new seed of information that he learned about azaleas, the more questions bloomed in his mind. “Like so much so that even honey made from your nectar can drive someone mad or kill them.”

“Yep, I’m dangerous,” Sunggyu chirped proudly. “You don’t want to mess with me. Pow!  Pow!” He threw a few weak punches in the other’s direction, but his expression was fierce as if he was doing serious damage to the air between them.

“So I’ve been wondering,” Woohyun’s voice drifted before asking this question: “When you kiss someone, does it kill them? Does the person go crazy?”

Sunggyu quirked an eyebrow and sat down on the cart attached to his bike. “Crazy?” he repeated. Woohyun nodded and sat down on the grass in front of him. Sunggyu nodded too. “Yes. Every single one of them. Because I’m that good at kissing. 10 out of 10!” he boasted, drawing a laugh out of the other.

“I don’t mean it like that,” Woohyun spoke through his laughter, waving his hands.

Sunggyu had been laughing at his own joke, but it died down when he seriously admitted, “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“How could you not know?”

“It’s hard to tell if they were crazy before I kissed them or afterwards,” he answered, followed by a heavy sigh. Then Sunggyu leaned back and gazed up at the sky. “Why do you want to know?”

Woohyun wasn’t ready to answer that truthfully, so a lie would have to do for now: “Well, I’ve never had the chance to ask a poisonous bush before, and I don’t know when I’d have another.”

Sunggyu’s head fell back down. “True,” he agreed with a smile. “What else do you want to know?”

Woohyun pursed his lips, thinking. He let them go with a pop and a question, “What else can I know?”

Sunggyu pondered it over a bit, kicking the grass at his feet. He then cautiously looked up at the other. “Do you want to meet my family?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Sunggyu had taken Woohyun through the garden before, but back then, these trees and bushes were nothing more than just that. Now, Sunggyu was introducing them by their proper names to Woohyun, telling him about their personalities, likes and dislikes. It was hard to reconcile that the roses he’d harvested earlier came from a feisty nymph named Mijoo. She surely was a beauty with some thorns herself. But when Woohyun came upon the kousa dogwood or the pine tree, he could see Joochan and Myungsoo in them. It was hard to describe how, how a tree could seem like a person. But now that he noticed the connection, Woohyun couldn’t think of them by any other means. Like how Sunggyu was an azalea, bright and dangerous.

The gardener lead Woohyun deeper into the garden than ever before, keen on introducing the ‘family’ to the florist (so that he could help out with more chores later on without a doubt). It made him wonder if ‘garden’ was the right name to call this place. It was more like a preserve, a place to keep the nymphs safe and away from harm. Woohyun’s gaze went to Sunggyu’s back, broad and upright, but then it began to shrink with each step. Woohyun scanned the area. There, in a place where every nook was filled with life, here was nothing but blackness. The grass was scorched and the dirt upturned. Something was removed from there recently, with great effort.

“What was here?” Woohyun asked, putting a hand onto the other’s shoulders as the stopped in front nothing.

“A peach tree,” Sunggyu mumbled, gazing past the area. “We lost her not that long ago.” That was all he said, nothing else, not even her name.

“From what? Disease?” Woohyun guessed. Like humans, plants could catch diseases, suffer from parasites. Maybe nymphs were twice as susceptible, as they belonged to both. But Sunggyu shook his head. No, that wasn’t it. That’s right. The grass was scorched. Fire. Woohyun looked up at him in a panic. “Did someone…”

“No, no! It wasn’t like that but…” Sunggyu cut him off strongly, but words failed him. He opened his mouth, took in a breath, and said nothing. After another try, he gave up. “I’d rather not say.” He sighed again and rubbed his tired eyes. “It’s not easy being a nymph.”

That was enough for Woohyun to understand. He crouched down to touch the earth where she once was, a quasi-god living surrounded by humans, belonging nowhere, whose temperament really changed with the winds. For just a human, life could be difficult, be too much. People react differently to those moments. For a nymph, well, Woohyun could see why things would go this far.

He wiped the dirt from his hands and stood up once again by the gardener’s side. Woohyun eyed him carefully and would overanalyze his response to this question: “The seasons are hard on you guys, isn’t it? Like very bad seasonal depression?”

Sunggyu heaved a sigh again and looked even smaller. “Some worse than others.”
That answer wasn’t good enough. So Woohyun became more direct, “What about you?” Sunggyu replied with just a shrug and then moved on from this area, expecting the other to follow. Woohyun did, but he wasn’t so ready to move away from this topic. He asked an easier question, “What happens to you during the winter? After the leaves fall?”

“I, um, hibernate,” Sunggyu finally answered and flashed the other a tight grin.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Woohyun responded. “Bears do that. You’re like a bear!”

“I guess I am,” something about Sunggyu’s voice made Woohyun think his hibernation wasn’t like a bear’s at all. Woohyun stopped in his tracks, suddenly wondering if winter’s chill would freeze the fragile bud that was their relationship and kill it.

Sunggyu stopped too, but for a different reason. There was a young woman, standing by a cherry tree. Her hand gripped at her other arm, bandaged like the tree before her.

“Oh, Soojung,” Sunggyu called to her while he jogged up to her side. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just wondering,” Soojung began, her gaze flickered between the two men before it landed firmly on the gardener. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” Sunggyu replied without hesitation. And without looking at the florist, he said, “Woohyun, finish the usual chores for me, okay? You know what to do. Water, feed, all of that stuff.”

“Huh, what?” Woohyun stammered as Sunggyu led the woman by the shoulders past him. “All of that? But…” His voice went when Sunggyu did. But how could he? Sunggyu barely let Woohyun touch some of these plants even under his close supervision. And now Woohyun was allowed to free rein in this place, when he just recently learned how precious and temperamental these lives were? The florist had never been so afraid to handle a bud or to look at it the wrong way.

A comforting hand fell upon his shoulder. Sunggyu came back. “Yes, all of it. You can do it,” he encouraged the florist.

“Is it really okay?” Soojung asked in a small voice as Sunggyu walked back to her side.

“He’s the new Miss Gong. It’s fine,” he assured her and then took her hand. “Let’s go to my place. I’ll get you something to drink.”

Woohyun watched the two walk away, hand in hand, until he could no longer. “The new Miss Gong?” he muttered to himself and went back to his bike. He kicked the stand hard and scoffed. “What does that mean? Is that all I am?” Frustrated, he huffed, standing with the bike between his legs. “Is that how you see me, like an old lady?”

Maybe the winter wasn’t all he had to worry about.

He had to worry about all of the changes, those that already happened and those yet to come. One of the most difficult changes to handle are the significant ones that happened to other people. They can be hard to notice, like Sungyeol’s shop closing down earlier than usual. Or they’re noticeable but you misjudged the gravity of them, like Myungsoo being unable to sing a farewell song for a dear friend. Or they’re intentionally hidden, like Sunggyu distracting Woohyun with forced smiles and horrible jokes. Now that Woohyun could obviously see everything in retrospect, he felt like a horrible friend. How could he not know that they were going through one of the biggest and final changes life had: the death of a loved one? And now that he knew, how could he help them deal with it? Would they let him? How much could his help do in this situation?’

Woohyun supposed that finishing the chores could help. So he did them. But the more he did, the heavier his heart weighed in his chest. His hand patted the rough bark of the pine tree, as softly as he usually touch Myungsoo, and inspected the needles, smelled them. It really was fragrant. He was.

Woohyun sighed. He was still getting used to all of this. Because of that, it took him awhile for him to realize things. Like how Sunggyu had to have been there the night of the fire. Like he might’ve been the one to put it out, too late to save her. Like he was the one who had to stop the fire from spreading, the one to bandage the cherry tree. No wonder why his back shrank before Woohyun’s eyes. When he lives to protect everyone, who is there to protect Sunggyu?

When Woohyun had finished with his chores, the setting sun was painting the sky red, and his eyes were as red from tears. He’d hoped to put the bike back by Sunggyu’s cottage and leave the grounds unnoticed, but as he sauntered down the path to it, the cottage door opened. Sunggyu was showing Soojung out, and they shared a hug while saying goodbye. It was obvious that they weren’t accustomed to hugging, and the bandage made it all the more awkward, as did Woohyun’s stares. Soojung scurried past him, mumbling a goodbye, and Sunggyu called out to him, “Oh, Woohyun-ie! Come here. Have a drink before you go!” His giggle-laced voice and the pink glow told Woohyun that Sunggyu had already been drinking.

“Is she okay?” Woohyun asked as he stepped onto the porch and then inside of Sunggyu’s house for the first time. It was humble, no bigger than Woohyun’s own apartment, and far cleaner.

“Soojung-ie?” Sunggyu began as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “She’s a close friend of…the peach tree. So…It’s been rough on her. I’ve been checking up on her a lot recently, but today…” he didn’t say anymore on that besides a sigh. “Let me get you a drink. Sit. Sit!” he insisted and walked over to his kitchen.

And Woohyun did sit, on the sofa, in front of the coffee table already littered with empty beer cans. Sunggyu moved them aside as he placed a whiskey bottle and two glasses down on the table. Well, Woohyun might not have noticed much before, but he could guess what this meant. He took one of the glasses and turned to face the other, sitting down next to him. “How’ve you been?” Woohyun asked and nudged him.

Sunggyu coughed after taking in the whiskey. “With what?”

“Everything?” Woohyun tried, mostly expecting to be turned down. But he held the other’s gaze, hoping that it would be more persuasive than his words. To his surprise, it actually worked. Or maybe the alcohol had. Or maybe the same feeling was blooming in Sunggyu’s heart too.

In any case, Sunggyu spoke about everything. He quickly went over the night of the fire, glossing over details (Woohyun was sure), but he did it, wincing at the pain of the memory. It must’ve been difficult, Woohyun had to interject, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We met up the next day! And you said nothing!”

“I had talked about it so many times by that point. I was sick and tired of talking about it. Everyone wanted to,” Sunggyu grumbled. “I wanted to forget about it. Just for a while.” He just wanted to talk about music and trivial things with Woohyun. That brought Sunggyu more comfort than Woohyun knew. He could act like nothing changed. He could put his worries aside for a few hours. He could smile.

“I almost feel sorry for making talk about it now. Almost,” Woohyun tried to lighten the gloomy mood. It was one of those nights when alcohol did little to cheer the spirits, bring an unconscious giggle to their lips. Both of them were doing their best to not be the first to cry.

“I can’t avoid it forever.” Sunggyu lost. Tears rained down his face. Woohyun wondered for half a second if he could water the azaleas on his skin this way, watching the drops fall. He then jumped when Sunggyu faced him, still crying. “Don’t make me talk about it again.”

Woohyun lost it too. “O-okay.”

Lured into slumber by alcohol and a good cry, Sunggyu fell asleep with his head in Woohyun’s lap. Although tired, Woohyun was fighting off sleep. He knew he should gently lay Sunggyu on the sofa and go home to his own bed, but he was ensnared by the sight and this opportunity, languidly tracing his own inked hands along the tattooed branches. He didn’t expect it to feel rough like actual bark, but it was still softer than expected, warm. His thumb gingerly felt for the pulse in the neck. He let out a sigh of relief finding it. Maybe Sunggyu wasn’t that different from him after all.

Almost like a reminder, under his thumb, a leaf swayed on the branch before it fell.