He wondered how he wasn’t through with crying; not because he had no emotions left but rather that he had no hydration left in his body. He also wondered how he didn’t spontaneously combust from sitting so close to the fireplace. At least the tears he shed this time were from relief, expelling the exhaustion that had been pent up in his entire body.

“He’s still alive,” the ajumma had said. “Fairly darn close to dead but still alive.”

She had thrown a heavy, fleece blanket over TaeMin when she got tired of him thanking her over and over again and directed him to stay by the fire.

“I’ll fetch you some new clothes,” she said. “You stay there and get warm. You’re not allowed near the other kid until you’re fine.”

So he sat in too-large clothing, wrapped in a heavy blanket decorated with bears and reindeer, and chanced moving closer to the living-room fire bit by bit. He stopped his advances when a spark popped out of the hearth and singed the blanket; surely the strangers wouldn’t appreciate their property being burned up by some kid from Seoul.

Once TaeMin got over the novelty of being in a cozy house somewhere in Gangwon, his mind settled back to the current situation. He was in Gangwon in a stranger’s house, and JongIn was unconscious in some other room. And he forgot his cell phone. Of course he’d forget his cell phone. For all he knew, the ajumma was stoking the furnace in the kitchen, getting the stove going to cook children. If a TaeMin screeches in the Gangwon, but no SHINee is around to hear him, did the TaeMin become a cake?

“Here.”

TaeMin jumped, startled out of his crazy imagination, as the ajumma handed him a large mug of steaming something. He accepted it gratefully, though, gingerly holding the warm ceramic in his palms.

“Thank you…” he murmured.

“It will help,” she replied simply. Then, with a light toss of her head, “He’s in the room at the end of that hallway. There’s a bathroom right next to it. I’m turning in for the night. If you need me, I’m down that way.” She indicated with her head again as she took a sip from her own mug of steaming something. She paused again. “It’s tea and honey. Sorry if sweet stuff isn’t to your tastes.”

“Eh? Ah, no. Thank you.” TaeMin promptly sipped from his mug as well.

She nodded and headed in the direction of her room without another word. TaeMin looked back to the glowing embers. He wasn’t ready to see JongIn just yet. In a way, he was afraid of what he would see.

Finally, when the fire was nothing but ashes and a few orange coals and when the mug was empty and cool, TaeMin stood, still holding the fleece blanket tightly around his shoulders. He set the mug down on the kitchen counter before he made his way down the hallway. He stopped right outside the door, heart pounding and nerves tingling. After debating for a good five-or-so minutes, he opened the door with a shaking hand.

The room was dark but warm. It wasn’t too hard to see around since the full moon outside reflected off of the endless snow and shone through the windows. The room was simply decorated; on one side was a bureau with a plain wooden chair next to it, a desk against the wall adjacent, a nightstand, and a full-size bed.

TaeMin remained frozen in the doorway, staring at the figure in the bed. JongIn was eerily still, buried under mounds of blankets. Due to all of the layers of blankets, TaeMin couldn’t tell if JongIn was even breathing. He finally got his lead-weighted feet to move forward into the room.

Standing next to him with the soft, blue light glowing through the window, JongIn didn’t look dead, at least; TaeMin thought he just looked asleep. But his expression was blank and withdrawn, not at all what TaeMin had remembered how JongIn looked as he slumbered. But then he realized the times he’d watched the youth sleep was when they were still together, when neither had any qualms about the world around them.

He pulled the lone chair up to the edge of the bed and sat, leaning his elbows on the soft mattress and resting his chin at the cross of his arms. Through the glow of the light in the hallway, TaeMin could tell at least some of JongIn’s color had returned. His lips were still a bit purple. Unconsciously, he reached out to sweep the kid’s bangs from his eyes, but he jerked back immediately when his fingers lightly grazed his forehead. JongIn’s skin was still icy cold. But there was some sort of heat emanating from the bed. TaeMin lifted the covers a bit and discovered heated water pads. The rest of his body was getting external warmth, but why was his face so cold?

TaeMin tested his palms with his fingertips. He was feeling roasty after having simmered in front of the fire for so long, and he was still incubating in the blanket the ajumma had given him. He extended his hands again, this time, placing his hands upon JongIn’s face. He immediately felt as his warmth seeped off of his hands, but it wasn’t like how it was in the snow where the vicious cold attacked his body; this time, the cold receded slowly, admitting defeat.

TaeMin covered JongIn’s forehead, cheeks, chin, and whatever else the blankets didn’t reach. Every so often, he would have to retract his hands, pressing them against his stomach to recharge. Even when it finally seemed like JongIn’s face was warm enough on its own, TaeMin’s hands lingered on his cheeks.

JongHyun’s words came back to his conscious thoughts. You’ll never be happy if you keep running away like that.

But running away was all that was left. Running was the only way.

He wanted to pull his hands away, but his hands wanted to stay connected to JongIn, refusing to let go. It was dangerous; he couldn’t let himself get close again. He wouldn’t submit himself to that sort of devastation again.

But he couldn’t separate from the person he wanted to stay with, either.

At some point in the middle of the night – or maybe it wasn’t too long after he fell asleep – TaeMin was roused from his sleep. His back and neck were aching terribly, the feeling reminding him of times he’d slumped over his desk and fallen asleep at school. He slowly rotated his head in both directions. Then he noticed his hands.

One hand had fallen back to the crown of JongIn’s head, fingers swirled amongst his hair. The other hand still lay in place on the pillow where he last remembered it.

And whether on purpose or accident, JongIn had turned his head to lightly rest his cheek against TaeMin’s knuckles.

“Yah. How long are you going to sleep for, huh?”

The unfamiliar voice brought TaeMin back from his deep sleep. He stirred and forced his eyes to unstick themselves. It was bright, and his back still hurt.

“I’m surprised,” the voice continued. “I figured you would be in the bedroom, and yet I wake up to find you camping out in the living room.”

Oh. Train-station ajumma. TaeMin sat up from where he lay on the living-room sofa. The ajumma was standing in the kitchen, patiently waiting at the stove. Once he got his eyes to focus, TaeMin saw a kettle sitting atop one of the rings.

Ajumma didn’t even look over. “Go freshen up. Then you can have some tea and wake yourself up. It’s already almost noon.”

“Ah… Okay.”

TaeMin darted down the hallway to take care of business. When he emerged from the hallway again, the ajumma was setting two heavy mugs on the dining-room table. They were the same mugs from the night before.

“Go on,” she said, indicating the chair as she slid into one herself.

“Thank you…”

He guessed it was supposed to be awkward, drinking tea with a stranger at a stranger’s dining-room table in a stranger’s house somewhere in Gangwon. But with the atmosphere being so cozy, he felt rather relaxed. Even if the train-station ajumma was a bit short and cold, she wasn’t very unnerving. They sipped their tea in silence.

TaeMin visibly jumped at the sound of the front door swinging open and closed. He hadn’t bothered to pay attention, but he didn’t realize if anyone else lived in the house. He swiveled around in his chair and saw a rather weather-worn ajusshi stomping the snow off of his boots on the doormat. Both men froze as their eyes made contact.

“This your catch, yeobo?” the ajusshi asked.

“Mmhm.” The ajumma was in the middle of a sip.

“I see.”

Bewildered, TaeMin watched as the man shook off his winter gear and the woman drained her mug. She stood from the table and placed her mug in the sink, crossing towards the front door to throw on a heavy jacket and scarf.

“I’m off,” she announced. “Don’t let him get cold. Both of you.”

And just like that, she disappeared out the front door. TaeMin was still frozen in confusion, twisted in his chair with the tea still steaming in the mug in his hands. The ajusshi’s face broke into a kind smile.

“Don’t worry. We’re used to rescuing people from the snow all the time. Make yourself at home.”

TaeMin finally found his voice. “Oh… Ah, sorry for being a bother. So… you already knew we were here?”

“Yeah. My wife texted me last night while I was working the station. Said she found the two kids from Seoul.” TaeMin must have looked like he still didn’t understand because the ajusshi continued. “We work at the train station, and when I relieved her last night, she told me how the first kid showed up, disappeared, and then you came along and disappeared as well. She already knew you two were in for a world of hurt, so she said she was going to go find you. Took her a while, but she did.”

“Oh…”

The man poured himself a mug of tea from the stove. “So don’t worry about it. It’s not a burden or anything.”

Regardless of what the ajusshi had said, TaeMin’s mind was set on being as unobtrusive as possible. When he jumped out of the few-minutes-as-possible-shower and found the house quiet and empty, he wondered if he had actually taken too long. The ajusshi had just been there to hand him a towel he could use. Where did he disappear to?

TaeMin didn’t adventure through the house for long. He made his way back to the bedroom where JongIn slept. He still looked the same, but TaeMin didn’t feel any hint of warmth in the room. Checking under the covers, he realized the water pads had cooled off.

He immediately began to fret. What do people do with these things once they get cold? Should he dump the water and refill it with hot water? Where should he get the hot water, though? Should he boil it in the kettle? No, that would take too long. If he dumped the cold water, wouldn’t it be a waste of water in general? Could he just reheat the cold water? Where could he reheat it, though?

While all of those questions whirled through his head at once, the ajumma’s words kept repeating in his head, “Don’t let him get cold.”

A sudden thought went through TaeMin’s mind. He was reminded of a program he had seen while flipping channels before. A group of campers had gotten into an accident during a trip, and one person had fallen into the water. He was rescued but suffered from hypothermia. Because of limited resources, his friends had saved him by keeping him warm using their own body heat.

His own body heat. TaeMin hesitated. He was plenty warm after just getting out of the shower and into borrowed clothes. But that was straying into his decision, his resolve to cut ties with JongIn before he got in too deep.

But JongIn needed to get well. It wasn’t a matter of emotions. Right?

TaeMin steeled his nerves as he stepped closer to the bed, hands twisting the hem of the sweater he wore. He hoped JongIn would just wake up on his own so TaeMin wouldn’t be subject to destroying himself. His hopes were in vain.

Wouldn’t it have been enough to just be like a heated water pad and merely have your presence known beneath the covers? No, that was stupidly awkward, and TaeMin could imagine JongIn laughing at the visual when told about it afterwards, when the glacial nightmare was over.

TaeMin twisted around under the blanket. It was still chilly, even with the flannel sheets and heavy comforter. JongIn didn’t feel like a block of ice, but he wasn’t generating much heat, either. Then TaeMin realized he wasn’t giving off any energy himself. The problem was the sweater was holding in TaeMin’s warmth.

Oh, Deer God. This was becoming more and more of a fangirl’s fantasy.

Heart racing, TaeMin hesitated before he sat up and shucked off the sweater, moving quickly so as to prevent himself from changing his mind and chickening out. He at least had a T-shirt on underneath; get your mind out of the gutter. He threw the blankets up to his chin again, face flushing from embarrassment at himself. No one was looking, anyway.

TaeMin finally got over himself. He scooted as close to JongIn as he would allow himself and settled with just watching the kid next to him. Slow, light breaths flowed through the youth’s body, any other movement void.

TaeMin pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across JongIn’s eyelashes. I want to hold you.

TaeMin propped his head up on one hand. Why did it have to be like this?

TaeMin’s other hand fidgeted at the bedsheet between them. I want us to be together again.

TaeMin was 100% running on emotions. I want us to be together again.

Without even thinking, TaeMin’s free hand reached out to pull JongIn close to him. He wrapped both of his arms around the cold body, pressing JongIn to his chest. TaeMin missed that feeling severely. His hands gripped the back of the sweater JongIn wore as he squashed his face against the top of JongIn’s head, old emotions surging through his heart. His own chest shuddered, and he willed himself to not become an ugly, sobbing mess again.

“You’re not brothers, right.”

It wasn’t a question; that was clear from the ajumma’s inflection. The two were sitting at the dining-room table again, sharing tea in the mid-morning sun. TaeMin set his mug of honey-sweetened tea down and gazed warily at his caretaker-of-sorts.

“Er… no,” he replied. “We’re not related.”

The ajumma took a sip from her tea and turned a page in the newspaper on the table. “So then he’s your boyfriend?”

TaeMin almost choked mid-sip. “Er, that… We’re not… He’s not my boyfriend, either…”

She looked up from the newspaper and stared into TaeMin’s eyes, and he realized that was the first time she actually looked at him. “But you two used to be together. Or is it you haven’t gotten to that stage yet? I highly doubt that.”

“A-ajumma…” The piercing stare was a little intimidating. “How do you…?”

She released the gaze and went back to her newspaper. “I’m a mother, boy. Mothers know everything.”

“Ah, r-right…”

“It’s all too obvious just from the way you look. My husband didn’t catch on until he found you two snuggling together in the bed last night.”

TaeMin flushed, almost combusting, from the embarrassment.

“So,” she continued without skipping a beat, “what happened?”

His face was still red. “Eh?”

“You say you two aren’t together now, but I say you used to be. You’re not together, and yet you come chasing after him when he rides up here to Gangwon for whatever reason. Not to mention your eyes get fruity when you have to think about him. You’re doing it now, too.”

TaeMin didn’t want to ask how she knew his eyes were “fruity” if she wasn’t even looking at him, but he cast his gaze down to the tabletop. He thought for a while about his answer. The ajumma waited patiently, sipping from her mug and flipping the newspaper pages every so often.

“I…” He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, but his voice still came out weak. “I ended it… between us.”

He knew the ajumma was listening, at least, because she had been reading the same recipe for a while. She didn’t answer or nod in reply, so there was a long pause before TaeMin spoke again.

“It’s not like things were getting bad or anything. There was nothing wrong at all. But I just… got scared.”

“Why would you get scared if there was nothing to be afraid of?”

“It’s… I…” TaeMin’s head dropped. “Jjong—My friend and I labeled it a phobia. This thing… happened to me before, and because of it… I…”

The ajumma tapped the bottom of her mug on the table. “Elaborate.”

TaeMin’s fingers curled tightly around his own mug; the heat of the tea had fallen to lukewarm. “A while ago, before I… er, just… years ago, I had dated this girl. And it was almost like this. We were fine together. But then she got this… opportunity, I guess. We had the same dream, but she was getting there before I was. But I didn’t really care. I was glad for her. But…”

He looked out the window to where the pale blue sky stretched, unhindered by earth or clouds. “…eventually she started to change. And after a while, it was like… she never remembered who I was. When I was finally able to see her again… She completely disregarded me, like I was nothing more than dirt under her foot. It sounds weak to me now, but back then, I was a weak person.”

She was looking at him again, but it wasn’t an intimidating glare anymore. “If it sounds weak to you now, why do you still have this phobia?”

“I think it’s a product of my low self-worth. All people can ever see are their inadequacies, right? If I’m with someone, I end up convincing myself that I’m not good enough, they’ll get tired of me and leave me out to dry eventually, so I end up cutting it off before I get too attached. Because I’m scared of being hurt like that again.”

“Isn’t that unfair to the other kid, though? How do you know he isn’t feeling the same way?”

He swallowed again. His throat was getting tighter. “I… didn’t think of that until after I had started cutting myself off from him. I realized he was more attached than I was. But I was too scared. I couldn’t…”

“So in the end, rather than getting your heart broken, you broke his heart instead.” The ajumma stood to deposit her mug into the sink. “You’re a terrible person.”

“I know…” TaeMin couldn’t stop his tears from rolling down his cheeks. “I know I am…”

She stood by the sink and let TaeMin silently cry for a while. Then she crossed over and pulled the mug from his hands.

“You sure you don’t want to take him with you? He should be properly treated in a hospital.”

TaeMin shook his head, thinking of all the stories he’d have to come up with for the press if he brought back a half-conscious Kim JongIn from Gangwon.

The ajumma crossed her arms. “You could stay, too, you know.”

Again, TaeMin shook his head. “I’ve troubled you for long enough.”

“But the other kid’s still here.”

The ajusshi placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders and smiled at TaeMin. “It’s fine if you need to go. We’ll take care of him until he’s well enough to go back.”

“Thank you…” TaeMin bowed deeply. “For helping us… I really wish I could stay, but I have to get back.”

“Sure, sure,” the ajumma spoke up again. “The life of a gasoo sure is difficult.”

He froze, looking up at her in shock. He’d been trying to stay under the radar all this time in hopes that he wouldn’t have to deal with paparazzi at such a time and place. The ajumma saw his fearful glance, and her stony face cracked a smile.

“Lee TaeMin. Mothers know everything, including how to keep up with the city life. Everyone knows who you are. We just chose not to flaunt it. Now hurry up. Your train will leave soon.”

The gasoo bowed again. “I’ll come back to see him.”

TaeMin shut the door behind him, his entire body heavy. Shuffling into the dorm, he found JinKi standing in the kitchen, stuffing his face. The eldest looked over his shoulder, saw TaeMin, and spun around in surprise.

“Lee TaeMin!” he shouted, food almost spewing out of his mouth.

A thunder of steps sounded from the hallway, and suddenly MinHo was there as well, outfitted for some manner of physical activity.

“TaeMin! Where have you – ”

MinHo’s yelling cut short as he took in the magnae’s face. TaeMin could only imagine what he looked like was how he felt: empty. He shuffled forward and pressed his face into MinHo’s chest.

“I’m back,” he mumbled.

The two elders were dumbfounded into silence. They looked at each other, trading voiceless words. TaeMin took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I’m back…”

And he didn’t stop himself as the tears fell once again.

A/N: End of flashbacks \o/ Does anyone even remember what was happening in present time?

Thanks to all my new and old subbers~ m(_ _)m Just one chapter left, y'all! What do you think is gonna happen?