He ran.

He ran as fast as his small legs could carry him, the branches and twigs from trees scratching and clawing at his small, tear stained face, but he still ran, not once glancing back.
His quiet sobs echoed through the silent woods, his short arms reaching out blindly as he tried to push as many branches away as he can, deep scratches forming on his already bruised skin.

The boy wanted to cry: cry out for his mother. But he knew he couldn’t. She was gone already, for almost two years now, taken away from him by an unknown disease when he was only three years old. His father had taken her death worst than the child himself did. Without a woman in his life, the boy’s father went crazy. He spent what little money they had on drinking, smoking, and busty women at the tavern in town. But the main concern wasn’t the lack of money, or his father’s alcohol addiction; it was the abuse the child started receiving once the woman of the household died. The man gave his son both physical and emotional pain, saying things that a child should never hear.

The boy would always hide in the dark confines of his room, sitting curled up in the corner furthest away from the door, but his father always found him, along with an excuse to hit him. The only time he ever left his room was to buy food for them, mostly for his father technically, and to tend to what little livestock they had.

No one knew of the abuse the boy was receiving except for the owner of the main trading post in the small town. Their small town was known for being the best place for trading. The town was located on fertile land with a few hills around, but most of all, it was by a river where boats could easily access, the main transportation at the time. Many people from different countries to even different continents came by to trade exotic spices from the Middle East to fine silken fabric from China. If someone ever did find out of the abusive man, they were never there long enough to confront him.

The owner of the trading post, Leeteuk, has tried many times to get the town officers to do something about it, but no one believed him, because he had no evidence, especially since the child never came out often. And when the child did appear, he’d always be wearing a black cloak to hide the injuries, and he was never out long enough for the officers to come and question the boy, also including the fact that the boy comes out at random times of the day.

Leeteuk felt pity towards the boy, and guilty for not being able to help the younger, but the boy would always offer the owner a bright smile of reassurance as he hands up a basket of fresh eggs from the few chickens he owned, for a sack of coins that’ll hopefully last him the month. Leeteuk made sure that he was the only one to help service the boy when he came by the trading post, allowing his other workers to deal with the other customers. The owner still didn’t understand how the boy still holds on, how he still survives through all the pain, but the smile is still there no matter what, etched on his small, adorable face that was marred by bruises and cuts. Leeteuk would always take the eggs with a dimpled smile in response, and hand him the sack of coins in place of the fresh eggs, slipping a few extra coins into he boy’s hands for emergency purposes and a small container of ointment for his wounds. The boy would stare at the extras in his palm for a moment, confused, before trying to hand them back to the owner, saying that he couldn’t accept the offer and could only take what he needs. Leeteuk would always stand his ground, refusing to take them back, but the boy was smarter than that. Most of the time, the boy would just raise himself on his tip toes, and set the things on top of the counter, before walking out of the trading post, immediately disappearing trough the crowd of people because of his small stature. Sometimes, rarely, the boy would only accept the ointment and set the coins back onto the counter, but Leeteuk knew the reason behind why he actually accepted the ointment; it was for his father who had gotten himself into another bar fight. The boy had never cared for himself. He always put others before himself.

Leeteuk could only hope and pray that the child, Kim Jongwoon, would someday escape from his nightmare, and seek a better life, a more promising life that will lead him towards his happiness that he never had.

But this time, his father had gone too far. The man had said something that left the boys heart aching in blind regret and guilt, his small, still pounding heart hurting more than the slap that soon followed after the degrading words.

You useless burden!

The words echoed in the boys mind as he ran, following what little light the crescent moon casted in the dark, thick forest.

You caused your own mother’s death! Your birth weakened her! If you hadn’t been born, she’d still be alive, living happily without you!

It was only a few sentences. But for a child, it was enough to kill him emotionally. Those words were what sent the child running after a few more blows that were inevitable.

The child’s vision blurred as more tears escaped his eyes, falling down his cheeks in silent pain. He tripped blindly on a tree root, sending him down to greet the ground, skinning his knees and hands on the rough dirt and gravel, his head colliding with the hard ground, causing his vision to flicker momentarily.

His sobs finally cease as he tries to pick himself back up again, everything around him spinning out of control, wanting to continue moving away from hell, but suddenly something warm caresses his cheeks, something very similar to a hand. But Jongwoon wouldn’t know. It’s been so long since he had last been touched so lovingly, so tenderly.

Jongwoon looks up a little, trying to register what or who was touching him, but he could barely make out a dark silhouette through his blurry vision and lack of light, exhaustion catching up to him fast.

“Mum?” He asks quietly, his voice full of childish hope as he forces his eyes to stay open, on the verge of fainting.

But the voice that replies is distant and was definitely not his deceased mothers, causing little Jongwoon’s heart to drop and finally allow unconsciousness to take over, collapsing forward once again.
But a pair of warm arms catches him, holding him up right in a tight embrace, whispering something into the child’s ear that he couldn’t hear and could only catch the phrase, you’ll be alright, before darkness completely took over him.

Jongwoon woke with a start, jerking up immediately into a sitting position, causing his head to throb in pain in complaint to the fast movement. His small hands reach up to press to his temple as his face contorted in pain, his eyes darting about the unfamiliar room he was in.

Jongwoon was currently sitting in a large, extremely comfortable bed, its sheets and blanket a dark royal blue. The room was luxurious, at least more luxurious than his own. The walls were all still intact, not a single board on the floor or wall was rotting or had any signs of cracking. It was spacious too, furnished simply with only the bed Jongwoon was currently on, a night stand, a large bookshelf, and a plush chair by the fireplace.

Wait……. the chair.

Jongwoon jumped a little from where he was sitting on the comfortable bed when his eyes met with a pair of golden ones.

“You’re awake,” the owner of the eyes says out loud, which Jongwoon barely recognizes as the person in the woods who had found him. Jongwoon doesn’t say anything though, just staring at the other blankly for a moment, not really remembering, or knowing how he had gotten there. Did the stranger carry him to his house?

“You look confused,” the man continued, closing a book in his hand that Jongwoon hadn’t noticed that he was holding until now. “I smelled—“the other suddenly cut off, his face twisting in an unreadable expression, before starting over again. “I heard you running through the forest, crying, and I found you on the ground, bleeding from some cuts. You were half-conscious when I found you, so I took you back to my home for now.” The man explained, before a guilty expression crossed over his face. “I would’ve bandaged your wounds, but I need you to bathe and clean the wounds first.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before standing up, causing Jongwoon to flinch visibly.

“I won’t hurt you.” The man says quickly, taking a quick step back with his hands up in the air to show that he wasn’t going to try anything.

Jongwoon’s small hands clutch tightly at the blanket that was now on his lap, his eyes studying the stranger before him. He was tall, almost to the point of lanky, but the man still held himself with a lazy air around him, an almost permanent sly smile on his handsome face. His eyes were a honey gold, but it seemed to change to brown once in awhile because of the flickering firelight from the fireplace. His hair was a tousled mess though, but it suited his features well, its color a light caramel.

“What’s your name, child?” the man asked, slowly approaching the child, making sure his movements weren’t sharp or fast as to not scare the boy.

The boy doesn’t respond still, and continues to stare at the tall man, his small frame tense in caution. Jongwoon was afraid. He doesn’t step out into society much, let alone talk to someone, one-on-one, besides his own father and the trading post owner.

“I’m Kyuhyun.” The man, so called Kyuhyun, offers up, trying to not appear suspicious like he already is. “I promise I won’t hurt you. What’s your name?”

“J-Jongwoon.” The boy finally manages to stutter out, making sure his eyes doesn’t leave the man before him, watching his every move. “My n-names Jongwoon. Kim Jongwoon.”

A crooked smile appears on the others handsome face as he knelt by the bed, as to stop frightening the boy with his unusual height, still keeping a safe distance between him and the boy. “It’s nice to meet you, Jongwoon-ah. What brings you out here in the middle of the night? It’s dangerous to be out here without an adult, especially since wolves are most active at night.”

Jongwoon looks away, the words and images of his father coming fast back to him. His lower lip starts to quiver as he remembers more of what had happened earlier that night, which did not go unnoticed by the other man.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable about sharing it.” Kyuhyun says in reassurance, reaching up a little to pet the boy’s hair softly in comfort.

Surprisingly, Jongwoon  didn’t move away from the others touch, and had actually leaned towards it more, yearning for a tender touch that he hasn’t felt for years.

A small smile appears on the elders face as he listens to the child sniff pathetically, rubbing at his slightly red nose with his small hands. “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” Kyuhyun says softly, tilting his head a little in a questioning manner.

Jongwoon looks up at the other and hesitates for a moment, before nodding once slowly. He was about to clamber off the bed himself when Kyuhyun gently slid his hands beneath the others arms, and lifted him up easily.

“Your knees are wounded. It must hurt for you to walk. Let me take you there.”Kyuhyun offered, carrying the boy down the hall.

Jongwoon didn’t put up a struggle or resist in anyway. Instead, he wrapped his small arms around the others neck and held on tightly, pressing his face into the other’s shoulder. For some unknown reason, Jongwoon felt comfortable around the man. He felt like he could trust the other. It was better than being at home with his father. Even if the man was carrying Jongwoon to his death, the child was still at least able to enjoy a few minutes of comfort and tender touches.

The way Kyuhyun smelled was alluring too, a mix of amber and vanilla, along with a hint of his natural musk and firewood. It smelled like how a home should be, an exotic scent that leaves you warm from head to toe, unlike how his own home smelled like, which is alcohol and sweat mixed with heavy body odor, all from his father.

The bathtub wasn’t what Jongwoon had expected when they stepped. He was expecting to see a large wooden tub, but instead, he saw an in ground one, already filled with hot water by the looks of the steam in the bathroom.

“Alright,” Kyuhyun says as he set Jongwoon back down on the ground. “Let’s get you unclothed first.” He reaches forward to help tug Jongwoon’s shirt off for him, but the child steps back, his face expressionless.

“It’s alright. I had promised I won’t hurt you. “Kyuhyun reassures, before offering one hand out in front of the boy. “You trust me, right?”

Jongwoon stands there for a moment, staring down at the man’s long, spidery fingers. “Why,” the boy started. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because….” Kyuhyun’s voice trails off when he realized that he didn’t really actually have a rational reason as to why the boy should trust him. But before Kyuhyun could make a fool of himself and give a stupid answer, the boy dropped his small hand into the others.

“I trust you,” The boy says after a few seconds of silence of Kyuhyun staring at him in surprise, a light blush making its way up the child’s cheeks.

“Alright,” Kyuhyun smiled, gently sliding his hand back out of Jongwoon’s hold so he could tug the boy’s shirt off over his head, followed by his pants and under garment before gently setting him in the hot water.

Jongwoon cringed a little as the heat reached him, not used to hot water since he always took cold baths, before finally relaxing, allowing the warmth to soothe the wounds on his body.

“I’ve never seen you before,” Kyuhyun muses quietly to himself as he picks up a towel to gently scrub at the child’s back while the boy busied himself with trying to scrub some dirt off his arms.

Jongwoon stopped his cleansing for a moment, taken aback by the others words, before resuming again, acting as if he wasn’t caught off guard at all. “I haven’t seen you around before either.” He stated nonchalantly.

A light chuckle escapes the man’s lips at the younger’s reply, amused by the boys way of changing the subject back to Kyuhyun. “Aren’t you a precious child.” He smiles, moving his hand up to lightly wipe at some grime on the boys face.

Jongwoon’s face scrunches a little at the others words, not used to people using such affectionate terms towards him.

“Alright, let’s get you dried up and get you some rest.” Kyuhyun says after a few minutes of just silently bathing the boy.

The boy nods, not wanting to ask if he’ll be sleeping here, or if the stranger would send him back to hell disguised as home, afraid of the answer he would probably receive.  But when Kyuhyun helped the boy back into his clothes, the man lifted the child back up into his arms again and set him back onto his bed.

A confused expression crosses the boys face as he sits up a little while Kyuhyun was trying to tuck him in.

“What’s wrong?” Kyuhyun questions, seeing that the boy was resisting a little.

“Why—“Jongwoon starts, confused as to why the man was being so kind to him. He has already done a lot for Jongwoon. “Wh-Why are you letting me—“

“Stay?” Kyuhyun finishes with a quirk of an eyebrow, before a smile split his handsome face. “It’s late out. I would never forgive myself for sending such a young, adorable child out in the woods all alone at this time.”

“Wh-Where would y-you sleep then?” Jongwoon stammers, overwhelming guilt flooding him from head to toe.

“It’s alright. I don’t need to rest.” Kyuhyun says, ruffling the child’s hair softly before straightening back up to sit by the fireplace again and maybe read a book, but a small hand shoots out and grabs onto the sleeve of his sweater.

“But you’ll m-make me feel bad.” Jongwoon says, his face heating up in embarrassment once again.

“What would you like me to—“Kyuhyun asks, not wanting the child to sleep with guilt on his chest, but the boy cuts him off fast.

“Share with me.” Jongwoon says quickly, still having a tight hold on the others sweater.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to accidentally roll over and squash you.” Kyuhyun says with light humor, but the boy didn’t seem to catch the humor since he was determined in letting Kyuhyun onto the bed with him.

Jongwoon nods furiously, not wanting to linger much longer on this subject before he changes his mind. Kyuhyun smiles softly before gently sliding into bed next to the younger. “Alright, thanks.” He says, although he honestly did not need the rest. “Now get some rest. A child as young as you should not be awake at this time. It’s bad for your health.”

Jongwoon stares at the man weirdly who was propped up on one elbow, before slowly, hesitantly, lowers himself back down in a resting position, his head meeting with the feathery plush pillows.
Kyuhyun reaches down and pulls the blanket up and around them both, mostly around the child’s small frame, and smoothes back the boys golden blonde bangs.

“Good night,” he whispers softly to the boy as Jongwoon finally relaxes again, throwing away all caution and drifts into a lazy haze, lulled by the soft glow and warmth of the fireplace and the quiet breathing of the man next to him.

“Good night,” Jongwoon manages to mutter out before falling asleep.

A/N: hey guys! So this is my chapter, and I know it's utter poop. I promise it'll get better though! Please leave comments! Love you♥