Jiyong was a fairy. Albeit, a small one. Standing at just five inches and five millimetres, he had no hope of reaching the top shelf alone. Luckily for him, he lived on the outskirts of a field, not in a kitchen. Two fields across from the sheep, and on the opposite side of the farm from the crop fields- to avoid the terrifying birds that liked to chase him while he screamed and fled and totally did not pee himself thank you very much. He just,,, happened to run through a particularly deep puddle whilst escaping certain doom. 

His home was located in the hedge just left of the holly bush- he tried living in the holly bush for security, but the leaves' sharp edges kept ripping his clothes and he couldn’t keep repairing them! If he had to sew one more shirt back together he’d be out of fabric, which meant a treacherous trip into the farmers house. Plus, there’s only so much patchwork a fairy can pull off before it stops being a fashion statement and starts being a tragedy. Jiyong shuddered. The last time he snuck into the farmer's house he almost got killed. Like really killed. Not just scared.

Technically, it was Jiyong’s own fault. His mother had warned him before that the house was dangerous, and he’d been going in for stupid reasons. Not for essentials like spare fabric for the winter cold, or those little wooden posts the farmer kept in a jar on the table so he didn’t have to keep snapping and debarking branches himself. He had so many callouses already. He didn’t need anymore just because he wanted a dining table that matched his chairs, or a bed that didn’t stab him in the back with its twists and bumps. No, Jiyong had been making regular trips into the house for one thing and one thing only. Food. Human food. Now, that may seem like an essential, but Jiyong was a fairy. Not a human. His diet consisted of sweetberries and rainwater. He didn’t need anything else to survive. It should be enough. It was enough. 

Until Jiyong managed to climb the table cloth after the farmer fell asleep at his chair, the dark liquid in his glass spilt in a bloody halo around his greasy pink hair. He was slumped over at the table. His lax hand pushing the cloth away from him, closer to the floor. Close enough Jiyong could grab it if he jumped. He had only climbed up there for the wooden posts; he just knew they would make a sturdy, comfortable bed frame for his leaves and blankets. However, he’d never been this close to a human before. 

The man’s face was lax, his mouth open and drooling onto the table. It was disgusting. Yet, Jiyong couldn’t stop himself as he sidled closer. His skin was paler than Jiyongs own, but still tanned dark from the field work. His eyelashes were a dark fan underneath his strong brow, his cheekbones cut shape into his face and his nose sloped gently into a sharp cupid’s bow, lips curving upwards even in his sleep. Jiyong touched his hands to his own plump, rounded cheeks and full lips. He reached out slowly, fingers shaking, wanting to feel the difference between them. The farmer’s fingers twitched as he huffed out a breath. Jiyong jumped and skittered back. What was he thinking? He could get caught so easily up here. He needed to get the posts and then go. 

He was slinking his way round to the little pot they were kept in when something caught his eye. A bowl, with what looked like muddy water and vegetables in it. He hesitated, glancing at the farmer, who was still passed out. Just once. It wouldn’t hurt if it was just once. He wanted- no, needed to try it. The bowl was warm to his touch, and at just the right height for Jiyong to lean over and slurp from it if he stood on his tippy toes. It was delicious. His cheeks got coated in the substance instantly, the collar of his shirt was soaked through with it. He didn’t care. How had he spent his whole life without this? He leaned in further, inhaling the liquid. What he didn’t account for though, was that the edges of the bowl, so smooth and beautiful, would make for poor grip. Jiyong let out a piercing shriek as the weight of his backpack slipped up his back and tipped him forwards head over heels into the bowl. Great. Now he was smothered in whatever delicious substance the bowl contained.

Jiyong heard a grumble. Oh no. The human. He spun round in the bowl too fast, his feet abandoned him and he slipped back down with a splash and a gulp. What? The substance was delicious and he was already face down in it. If he was going to die, he was going to die with a belly full of deliciousness. He picked himself up and scrambled over the side of the bowl, running to the edge of the table as fast as he could. He stole one last glance behind him before he slid off down the table cloth, just to see if he’d been spotted. He couldn’t not. Humans. They were fascinating to him. His mum used to tell him his obsession would get him killed one day. He’d never believed her, not even now, while the farmer stared at him covered in human food gripping the edge of the table tightly, looking confused and sleepy. Jiyong froze, clinging to the table edge as the farmer rubbed his eyes and squinted. His iced muscles spurred back into motion when the human let out a piercing shriek, ‘RAT!!!’ and swung his open palm down directly towards Jiyong. 

Jiyong huffed out a sigh and leaned back in his uncomfortable bed. The stars were out, yet he couldn’t find the motivation to climb the hedge. The view from the top was truly magnificent, but he’d been too afraid to exist in the open since his last trip into the house. He’d gone back, after the ‘Bowl Incident’ as he’d dubbed it. Everything had been fine. He’d stuck to the walls and crevices, only making these daring trips under the guise of night. It made it harder to locate the things he needed, but he could usually rely on his nose to find any food that had been left out. Unfortunately, he’d gotten too bold, making too many trips in a short time. When he last visited the house, in the dead of night, he took his usual route. Climb the ivy, squeeze in through the crack in the window, move carefully along the counter without falling in the big metal tub, and use the roll of soft paper to get to the ground. 

This time, however, when he touched down on the floor, there was food waiting for him. Just sat right there, out in the open. On a weird, tiny wooden table. His heart had swelled. Thinking the human knew he existed, and wanted him around. He’d heard stories of that, humans leaving food for fairies in exchange for favours and magic. He’d started forward in excitement when his mother’s words about humans being dangerous rang in his head. The table did look weird. Why did it have a large metal bar? Jiyong unstrapped the wooden post from his bag and gave the table a wack on its edge. Nothing. He squinted suspiciously and tried to quell the growing excitement in his stomach. He smacked the table again, directly on its surface this time. The metal bar swung down with a whoosh