If Hwayoung had known she would be spending her day inside of a strange treetop hut with a boy she had encountered half dead in the woods, she would have worn warmer clothing. The girl’s thin nightgown did little to hide her exposed flesh from the boy looming in front of her, and she crossed her arms over her chest and pulled her furs closer. The boy named Baekhyun and the other boys had left through the trap door and now it was just the boy she had saved in the woods and Hwayoung.               The two stood across the room from each other, each engaging the other in a silent staring contest. The tension in the room was so thick that Hwayoung could feel it in each breath she took into her lungs- she had to physically swallow each lungful, and even then it still felt like she was drowning.  

            The chill of the air was less of a reason for the bumps on her skin than the boy standing in front of her was. His skin, although rather ashen, nonetheless had a sunny look to it and his eyes, almost covered by the hair that stuck out at odd angles like the bundles of straw the villagers collected at the harvest, were unfaltering as they pinned her into the floor. Although he was barely a head taller than her, there was something about the air around the boy that made him seem so much larger than he actually was; Jongin was lean, almost hungry looking, and it screamed feral.  

 

            “Why did you come?” Jongin’s voice was so soft that Hwayoung almost did not hear it, and she could hear youth dancing on the tip of the boy’s tongue. The circles under Jongin’s eyes seemed heavier than ever.

 

            “I don’t know,” Hwayoung was unable to pull away from his gaze, and it made her uneasy. 

 

            His eyes were predatory. This boy was a hunter.

 

            Jongin was silent, staring at the girl on the cushion as though he could push her from the tree house. Hwayoung kicked herself for how stupid she was for thinking this boy would be in danger from a few villagers armed with torches and shaking spears. The contrast with the boy lying half-dead in the snow to the fierce figure before her now was striking.

 

            “Do you realize how stupid coming here was?” His lips were the only thing that moved.

 

            Hwayoung nodded once, curling her hands into fists to hide her trembling. Jongin broke their staring contest as he watched her try to hide her fear, his emotions hidden behind an icy façade. His gaze locked on her fists as she responded.

 

            “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

 

            A hint of a smile fell to the very corner of his mouth, but Jongin’s lips curled around it like it held a bitter taste. The sun outside was hidden behind a cloud, and a chill ran down Hwayoung’s spine. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt warm in the sun. 

 

            Jongin dropped into a crouch and leaned in so close that Hwayoung could count his eyelashes. He smelled like the period of about a week