Thick snowflakes tumbled down from the grey skies. For two days, the snow had been continuously piling up, and by now, it was covering the whole forest with a heavy white blanket. The dark firs withheld its load resilient, but sometimes one of their branches gave way under the weight, and shook it off to breathe a sigh of relief. Except for the green needles of the conifers, the forest was white and frozen as if time stood still. The air was crystal clear from the biting cold as it tried to creep under the clothes of the lone wanderer stumbling through the woods.

The snow crunched underneath his leather boots with every step he took. He was far off the paths, far enough that the creatures of the forest became curious about his presence. Why would a young man in expensive clothes wander the woods in the evening? He must have lost his way.

The man did not belong there. With one close look, one could easily see the merchant's crest stitched to his brown coat. And if the pretty blond was to part his lips, the curious squirrels watching him from the trees would have heard that his language was different from the one people in this country spoke. He was a mere guest who had lost his way.

Yet, despite his desperate searching, he was still far from finding his way back to the market.

Yeosang had been walking the woods for hours. His stomach had been rumbling with hunger since noon, but there was no town in sight even after he had seemingly crossed half of France already. He was aware that the snow was disorienting him and that he had probably passed the adequate roads at least twice without noticing them. Yeosang was alone and lost, and it was getting dark. No amount of money he carried in his pockets could help him out of the numbing cold.

He should have listened to his father and stayed close to the ship. His thirst for knowledge had gotten the better of him, and now he was out here, surrounded by a bunch of trees and tons of snow but no salvation in sight.

Yeosang felt utterly helpless. Wandering for one whole day had caused his anxiety about what would happen to him to reach its peak. His stomach was in knots as his mind kept racing with the thought about the possibility of ending up getting eaten by a bear. He would not be able to fend off an animal like that all by himself.

Yeosang was no fighter. He was no more than a merchant's son who travelled the world to study and dream. Seeing his young life come to an end here seemed cruel in his eyes.

Yet, he did not cry. His eyes face did not shed even a single tear as he wandered the forest. The need to survive kept him motivated enough to keep searching. He still had time to find something before night fell.

The birds in the trees watched him pass by with great interest. Sometimes, their lonely calls would surprise him and made him jump. However, he pushed on and resumed in his task, not soon after with his jaw clenched.

Nighttime crept up on him slowly but surely. With the snow falling, there was no way of seeing the sunset, so he barely noticed the darkness wrapping around him until he had trouble seeing what was ahead.

Yeosang paused. His breath was visible in the frozen air as he desperately looked around. He was shivering so hard, he was scared that he might freeze to death before he could find shelter. Since he knew how treacherous the soft-looking snow was, he hurried onwards. Falling asleep was not an option, and he could survive as long as he kept going.

The night grew pitch black around him. Yeosang stumbled through the forest like a lost kitten, softly calling out from time to time, hoping that somebody might hear him. He did not dare to shout since he knew the owls would shout back and frighten him. His fear showed in his hunched shoulders and skittering steps. Every little noise in the night made him jump.

After another few hours, some god decided to have mercy on him.

Yeosang had been hiking uphill for a while now. He did it partly to warm up his body and partly in the hopes of seeing something in the distance if he reached some peak. However, when he reached said peak, he found something else first.

A building of white walls, made of stone, and standing strong against the snow. He had almost not noticed them between the stark white of his surroundings, but now that he saw them, relief washed over him.

His chest filled with hope, he rounded the tall mansion to find an entrance. When he reached it, he turned around to take one last look at the valley beneath. The night was too dark and the blizzard too strong to see far, but he was positive that there might be a town down there somewhere.

Alleviated to not have given up sooner, Yeosang turned to use the massive doorknocker. His three knocks sounded loud into the night as Yeosang rubbed his hands together through his gloves, waiting anxiously.

There was no answer.

Nervously, he looked around. He could see some lights coming from the windows, and the mansion did not look abandoned in the slightest. He had expected some kind of noble family to live here, so he'd figured that they would most definitely hear him.

Patiently, he knocked again, bouncing around a bit so his body would stay at least a little warm. He'd lost the feeling in his toes hours ago.

Still no answer.

Yeosang looked out into the night and back at the white mansion. The cold was getting to him, and if this turned out to be a disappointment, he would not have much strength left to continue.

Yeosang knew he should turn and leave to not bother the owner of this building any longer. Maybe he would try to find that town purely based on his instincts and hope that he wouldn't freeze until then.

Before he left, he gave one last weak push against the door, sighing.

But when his hand connected with the door and lightly pushed against it, it creaked open.

Perplexed, Yeosang froze to see if the door had suddenly been opened by someone from the inside. When nothing happened, he pushed against it once more.

Indeed, the door had not been locked, and he could open it slightly. As he cautiously stepped forward, he felt warm air hit his face. Yeosang made his decision on the spot.

He entered the house quietly enough to avoid disturbing its inhabitants. As he peeked his head inside, he was greeted by the snug warmth that only a fire could create. Immediately, he felt himself melt into the comfort of the building.

The entrance hall did not hold much. There was a large staircase that wound up to the next floor and a corridor leading to what Yeosang presumed to be the stables or the cellar. He chose to scale the staircase and looked around curiously as he did.

The insides of the house were just as white as outside. He guessed the whole building to be built from expensively shining marble. It seemed to contain the heat well enough for Yeosang to find himself slide off his gloves as he rounded the corner of the broad staircase. He put them in his pocket and appreciated the ornate decorations that were carved into the stone. There were no pictures around, just some pretty lanterns on the wall whose fires threw dancing shadows on the floor. And finally, there was a thick red carpet leading into the living quarters on the second floor.

Yeosang curiously walked inside. There were two offices to both of his sides, and a large open passage through the wall gave an open view on the sitting room. There were no doors around, but Yeosang figured they might not be needed in such a spacious home. The lack of doors had him nervously peeking around the corners in fear of getting caught.

He entered the sitting room and found the fireplace behind which a happy fire was joyfully dancing away without a care in the world. Yeosang had to smile at it, sharing its happiness now that he also did not have to walk the night anymore.

He looked at the deep purple sofas longingly as he also stripped off his coat. While he did that, he looked around carefully. There were some branches and wintery grasses in an orderly bouquet in the middle of the room. Behind him was a large window front with a cushioned bench in front. A book laid there, obviously discarded not long ago since it was still open.

Somebody obviously lived here, and Yeosang couldn't help but feel bad for trespassing.

He put down his coat on a loveseat as he walked over to the book. It was in French, and he could not read the title, but he still skimmed the pages. There were only two words he understood.

What stood out to him, though, was the particular style the owner seemed to read in. Some passages were underlined with black ink and had notes scribbled on the side or underneath. Maybe it was for studying, but Yeosang found himself oddly intrigued with the elegant swirls and bows of the handwriting. It looked like art.

Hesitantly, he picked up the ink pen and the book. There was still space in some corner. He would leave a message and then go to sleep in the hopes that it would be seen in case he was found. He had a good excuse for being here, after all, and his exhausted mind simply hoped for a kind soul to have mercy on him.

With the heavy but pretty pen, he wrote.

'Dear Lord or Lady. Please forgive my intrusion. I will leave in the morning when the storm has settled. Please accept the money as a token of thanks.'

He stared at the letters while he reached for the gold in his coat. The coins clicked as he sat the heavy bag down on the desk.

No, if this person was French, would they be able to understand English?

Biting his lip, Yeosang racked his tired brain for the right words. He barely knew any French.

He wrote some of the words down that roughly translated into 'Hello. Sleep, thanks. Sorry' and drew a little arrow to the side. Satisfied, he neatly set the book down on the wooden tea table in the middle of the room then and put the gold next to the arrow. He placed the pen in the middle of the book.

Only then, he allowed himself to sit down on the sofa to undo his shoes. The fire sent the heat into his skin like little stabs of needles, but he still felt at ease.

Soon, he gave in to his drooping eyes and found rest on the soft cushions.

-

Yeosang awoke to the light of day streaming in through the windows. As he blinked against the bright shine, he noticed that the skies had cleared up, and a gentle blue was stretching over the horizon.

Immediately, he was up on his feet.

He hurried over to the window and crawled onto the loveseat in front of it to look out over the valley. The sight was breathtaking.

The forest lay glinting and shimmering like frozen diamonds underneath and led down the hill and up the other peaks in the distance. The sun wasn't quite in sight yet, but Yeosang could still see the little town nestled down in the valley and the ocean in the distance that seemed to melt into the sky.

It was the town they had anchored at. It would be easy to find from his current location.

In a hurry, Yeosang turned to put his boots back on. He would get right back on track and let his father know that he was alright. He also wanted to inquire about the house owners and maybe come back with a token of gratitude.

However, as he sat down on the sofa to put on his boots, he found that neither the book nor the gold had been touched. The fire had died out by now, and only the blackened coal remained.

He was worried for a moment whether he might have scared the owner off but then decided that they might have actually not heard him. Maybe they had left the room shortly before he'd arrived and went to bed further up in the house. He had no way of knowing, and if he could get out of there without any troubles, his heart would be at ease.

Still, he hesitated. Should he leave the money? There was no way for him to hide the fact that he'd been there after writing in the book, but he also did not wish to scare some old lady to death when she found the note.

Unsure, Yeosang gnawed on his lip as he stared at the book.

Before he could decide what to do with it, a loud noise made him jolt. It had sounded as if a door had been slammed shut suddenly, not too far from where Yeosang was still sitting.

Worried, he got to his feet. He waited for somebody to come and scold him, but again, nothing moved. Yeosang's heart thumped in his chest.

In the end, he decided to give it a shot. If the person knew that he had spent the night here and still chose not to bother him, he might as well thank them directly.

So he slowly began to move, searching for the origin of the noise he'd heard. He couldn't hear any footsteps, so he assumed the person to still be on the same floor as him.

He ventured further into the large mansion via the second passage in the sitting room. Behind, there was a large hall that might be used for meetings and such. Another corner of the room held a second sitting area and behind that was a study that concluded the floor.

As Yeosang was rounding the corner to said study, he felt a cold wind coming from there. It was far away enough from the room he had slept in that he hadn't noticed it then, but it had remarkably cooled down the study. Yeosang entered the study, the cold breeze creeping through his simple white shirt as he moved to close the windows.

As he did so and shut out the noise of the birds singing their morning song outside, another sound reached his ears.

It had been so quiet that Yeosang would've probably missed it if it hadn't come from right next to him.
Frozen, he stared at the wall, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Had it been the landscape painting hanging there? He doubted that he would be able to catch the heavy frame if it came crashing down on him.

However, when he heard the noise again, he was surprised to recognise it.

It sounded sad and pitiful, the kind of noise that would have usually made Yeosang coo if he heard it from one of his younger cousins at home. It was the sound a person made when they had a cold and could not breathe well. It was a little sniffle.

Yeosang's eyes dropped to the large closet next to the painting.

He was not entirely sure whether it was a cat or an actual person, but there was only one way of finding out.

Cautiously, he pulled open both doors, slow enough for whatever was inside to slip past him if it wanted to. When nothing happened, he opened the closet fully and looked down at the curled-up figure at the bottom. It was far too big to be a cat.

It was a man - or rather a boy – probably around Yeosang's age. He had round cheeks and fair skin that didn't show any wrinkles, blemishes, or any other kind of flaw.

His eyes were shut tightly as he pressed himself into the corner with black hair falling onto his forehead.

Yeosang worriedly looked over his trembling form. He seemed to be cold and judging by the freezing temperature in the room, it was quite understandable.

While Yeosang was looking at him, the man sniffed again, his little nose twitching slightly as he did.

Yeosang's heart melted.

He crouched down carefully as he reached out for the man. Similarly to Yeosang, he was wearing a white shirt, but his hung loosely out of his pants and was opened at the top. He obviously lived here, so Yeosang could not fathom what he was doing in that closet.

"Excuse me-"

Yeosang froze when the man startled. He abruptly opened his eyes to stare at Yeosang in surprise as his body coiled backwards.

A second passed in which neither of them moved, and Yeosang got lost in the round eyes of the man. Damn his weakness for dark-eyed boys.

Yet, as he was staring, he noticed the condition the man was in. He looked pale, and his eyes looked glassy and tired. The tip of his nose was reddened with what Yeosang could only detect as the sign of a cold.

Worried, he searched for words. He wanted to get the man out of that cold room without scaring him again.

The next time one of them spoke, it was the other man. He murmured something under his breath without taking his eyes off Yeosang. His low voice was scratchy and raw. The blond could not understand, but it was soft enough to not be seen as a threat, so he tried again.

"Hello," he greeted the man in French "my name is Kang Yeosang." It was easy up until here, but from then on, it became more difficult. "Sleep... I'm sorry. Uhm... Thanks." He mimicked a little bow in his crouching position. The man observed him.

"Uh, cold- Go... Go?" He helplessly gestured towards the adjacent room. He wasn't sure if the man had gotten the memo, but still, he nodded slowly. Yeosang could imagine that he might have been embarrassed to be found in this position, but Yeosang had no reason to judge. He was the one who had entered without permission.

As Yeosang moved back to let the man crawl out of the closet, he noticed the bulging muscles under the man's shirt. He looked young and fit, about the same age as Yeosang, he would guess. Yet, when the man got to his feet, he wobbled precariously.

Yeosang immediately moved closer to support the man's flailing arm. He gave an apologising nod as he invaded the man's personal space to hold him upright.

As it seemed, it had been the right decision. The man ignored all rules of propriety as he leaned heavily against Yeosang's chest. He had lifted one hand to his eyes as if he was feeling nauseous and was stumbling without balance.

Yeosang figured he had fallen sick spending time here, and it now came down on him.

Immediately, he felt bad.

Why had the man been there in the first place? Had he been scared of Yeosang thinking he was a robber? He must have had his reasons for hiding in the closet. If he had been there in these temperatures ever since Yeosang had arrived, it was a given that he fell sick.

Yeosang felt guilt wash over him.

He could only assume what had happened, but he was the only one around to help. And that, he would.

"Go? Sleep?"

His quiet question seemed to pull the man out of his confusion. He turned his head to Yeosang and nodded carefully. His lips were sealed tight.

He pointed Yeosang back out to the staircase and let him help him walk there slowly. They went up the stairs taking their time. Yeosang once again noticed the eerie silence of the whole house and kept wondering where the other inhabitants were. Maybe the servants went to town and got cut off? Or was his family travelling?

The nameless boy directed him to one of the rooms on the third floor. These rooms had doors, and as they had passed the narrow white corridor, he motioned for Yeosang to open one of the wooden entrances.

Yeosang humbly did as he was told. They found themselves in a bedroom. It was considerably darker than the other rooms and dominated by dark brown and red colours. Yeosang glanced at an adjoining room with a large piano inside to their left and a bathroom to their right. The middle of the room was overtaken by a large bed with an impressive headpiece that stood between two windows. The curtains were open and let the light shine over the chaotically pushed back sheets and thrown around pillows. It looked so oddly domestic that Yeosang had to smile to himself as he helped the stranger over there. He helped him sit down while being careful not to stumble over the guitar that was leaning at the side of the bed.

When the deed was done, Yeosang rose with a proud smile. He gestured for the staring man to lie down already. He was glad that they had overcome the worst struggle of an awkward first meeting.

The man nodded and then turned away to cough. His cough already sounded painful, and Yeosang grimaced at the sound. Maybe he should not leave before he knew the man in good hands. He could not even stand; how was he going to get food?

Yeosang hesitated as the man continued to look at him curiously.

"Mother? Father?"

The man shook his head.

Yeosang's mind was reeling. Should he stay? Was he of any help with his limited French skills?

When the man coughed again with a grimace, Yeosang made his decision.

He knew exactly what would help against such a cough. He would go to town and fetch it while the man could not move. If he managed to return soon, he could help the man recover. It was a far better way to express his thanks than by leaving behind some money and leaving. That sounded like a good idea. Especially, if he was alone.

"Sleep. I go." Yeosang pointed at the door.

Again, the man nodded and laid down to get some rest.

Yeosang went to fetch his coat and go on his way to meet his father.

-

His trip to the town had been a success. He had gotten some honey and ginger from the bustling market, as well as the permission from his father to go stray around. The merchant had been worried about Yeosang getting lost in the blizzard, but since he was busy for the next two months they were scheduled to stay, he had let it go. Yeosang had made sure to bring things for soup since he did not know whether the mansion had it and then started his trek again. Before he left, he had even asked a translator what the French word for 'friend' was. He would call the other man his friend for now.

Yeosang knocked once again before he entered through the main door, but he did not expect an answer anyway. So soon, he found himself back up on the third floor and shyly knocking on the room he knew the man rested in.

A surprised hum came from inside.

Yeosang hurried to enter since he did not want to urge the man to stand up. As he stuck his head in with a grin, the doe eyes of the boy on the bed widened. He had sat up, and his hair was naturally wild, but he looked even worse than when Yeosang had left. Worse, but also positively surprised that Yeosang had returned. Full of wonder, he stared as Yeosang entered the room.

"I brought you some things to help you get better soon! I know you can't understand my rambling, but I'll make you some soup!" Yeosang cheerfully held up the treasures he had gathered.

"I want to help my friend," he then added sincerely. He had memorised that particular line while walking up here and was glad to deliver it. The man nodded with big eyes. He did not seem to mind.

Happily, Yeosang left his coat in the man's room as he set out to make some tea and soup for him. Yeosang was confident in his nurturing skills and would do his best to repay the man. Especially since he had gotten sick on Yeosang's accord. As soon as he had found the kitchen he stood there, humming as he prepared the medicine. He watched the snowstorm outside starting to get stronger once again while his soup was simmering away. He might need to stay another night, but he was sure his friend would not mind.

When he finished, Yeosang took a bowl and a spoon from the kitchen. He balanced both the soup and the tea carefully as he returned to the boy. The big mansion was eerily empty around him, and somewhere, he could hear the wind howl through a chimney.

His friend had laid down again by the time Yeosang returned with his home remedies. Yeosang sat the broth down on the nightstand and handed the tea over as the man sat up against some velvety cushions. He began sipping on the warm liquid after it had cooled down a bit.

"So... Sleep? I sleep?"

The man pointed him to the right, to what Yeosang assumed was a room for him to sleep in. He nodded with a bright smile. As he stood up, he brushed his long hair back behind his ears. The man watched him.

"You sleep. I sleep." Yeosang gave a little wave that the man copied hesitantly. Before Yeosang left, he mumbled something into his cup.

"Good night."

With his heart warming for the lonely man and his efforts, Yeosang skipped back out. He prepared some food for himself and then made his way into his room. It looked unused but not dirty, so Yeosang settled down on his large bed and pulled out the book he had brought to do some studying. His father had suggested to him to learn a few more crumbs of French if he intended to communicate with the people. Agreeing with the thought, Yeosang had brought some pamphlets to study basic phrases.

He would probably struggle a lot with the pronounciation since he barely knew which of the letters to skip and which to stress. Maybe his new friend would understand anyway and tell him a name to call him by soon.

The snowstorm continued to wreak havoc outside as Yeosang immersed himself in his reading. He spent a few hours taking notes and quietly mumbling the words under his breath until his eyes grew tired, and he found himself unable to focus. Before he went to sleep, he decided to check on the house owner one last time.

Yeosang tiptoed over to the other room without his boots to make as few noises as possible. He also avoided knocking in case the man had gone to rest already and instead slowly peeked his head in.

The room was quiet. The fire in the little lamp on the nightstand was still happily dancing away, but the lump under the covers of the bed looked positively asleep.

On quiet feet, Yeosang sneaked over to blow out the candle so it would not fall over during the night. He kept his eyes on the boy's peaceful face to make sure he did not wake as he did.

However, just as he was leaning in to turn off the light, his eyes caught something between the man's slightly parted lips. It looked silvery white, like bone shimmering through his flesh. Yeosang couldn't help but lean in curiously.

Was that... A fang?

Yeosang blinked perplexedly as he stared harder. Were his tired eyes playing a trick on him? It was possible for people to have elongated canines, but Yeosang was sure that these were too long to fit into said category.

Yeosang narrowed his eyes.

He was familiar with the stories of supernatural creatures. There were legends about children of the night that drank human blood and died in the sunlight. However, he was fairly sure that this friend here had no issues at all being exposed to the bright rays.

Yet, Yeosang could not shake off his suspicion anymore. A man in a castle, living alone. Having long teeth and hiding away from humans. It all sounded too fitting.

The most vital part was still missing though. The blood. Yeosang with his own slightly sharp canines would not jump to conclusions until he had convincing evidence.

Yeosang leaned in to blow out the dancing flame in the lamp, and darkness wrapped around him. While his heart was in his throat at the paranoia of what would happen unbeknownst to him, Yeosang calmed quickly. No matter how fast his little human heart would race with survival instincts, the stranger had hidden in a closet because he had been the scared one. If he had wanted to hurt Yeosang, he would have long since acted before he had left the first time.

Despite his efforts, his body stumbled messily over something on the ground as he turned to leave. Some sort of liquid splashed up his clothes and soaked his pants within seconds. Freezing at the loud clattering noise he had caused, Yeosang's mind came up with only one horrific thought.

Blood.

Again, he called himself an idiot. He would have seen a whole bowl of blood. It must have been the soup that the man had not finished earlier. No need to panic.

When nothing behind him moved, Yeosang began creeping out of the room with wet socks. He needed to put his exhausted mind to bed. It had been a long day.

Back in his room, he stripped off his clothes that indeed smelled of soup. He would need to wash them. Maybe the other man could lend him some clothes, but he could take care of that tomorrow. For now, it was time for Yeosang to go to sleep and forget about any odd thoughts that cursed his mind.

-

Yeosang awoke to sunlight streaming in through his open curtains. He had forgotten to close them the night before in his puzzlement, and now, he was paying the price.

However, he was not angry. Like this, he had the opportunity to prepare food before his new friend woke up. Before that, though, he would need to find something to wear. Going around naked was not an option.

Helpless, Yeosang glanced at the closet. He assumed the room to be vacant at the moment, but maybe the previous owner had left something here? There was no harm in checking.

With naked feet, Yeosang tiptoed over the cold ground over to the tall wardrobe. The doors were dirty from time as he pulled them open and averted his face so no cloud of dust would hit him. Still, a little sneeze escaped him before he managed to explore the insides of the closet with teary eyes.

There was a single garment. It hung right in the middle of the dark closet and was untouched by time and grime. Yeosang heard himself gasp softly as he eyed it. It was a long dress made of pale rose tulle. It looked expensive with the pearls that decorated the lacey girdle and seams. From what Yeosang saw, it reached until the floor and the sleeves connected underneath the shoulders, leaving most of the decolté exposed.

At one glance Yeosang could tell that it was a wedding dress.

Right, it has never occurred to him that his friend might be married. Either that or one of his female relatives had left this gorgeous dress here.

Yeosang bit his lip, looking back and forth between the dress and the door.

It would be extremely inappropriate to wear the dress without permission. It did not belong to him and most likely had a strong emotional value. Showing up wearing it might get him kicked out in an instant.

Yeosang glanced at his own clothes that smelled even more of food today. He grimaced.

Maybe he would try to wear it only for a moment. He could go over, apologise, and ask for different clothes. That might work.

Blushing deeply, Yeosang took the garment from its hanger. He treated it with great respect as his fingers grasped the soft fabric. At least it was a simple one that did not require him to wear multiple skirts and fight the corset for long. He could just slip it on and tighten the bindings around his chest a little.

As he did, Yeosang could not help but feel like a princess. He was in a grand mansion with a pretty dress that he barely felt on his skin since it was so airy. He found himself beautiful in it.

With gentle fingers, he smoothed out the skirt. It fell naturally according to gravity, making it easy to handle.

Yeosang took a few shy steps around the room. His father had never allowed him to wear dresses since he believed them to be for women only. A man would not enjoy wearing skirts according to him. Yet, Yeosang decided that it was nice. He felt comfortable.

Despite his glee, he had to get moving. He did not want to be found in here drooling over a wedding dress that belonged to a stranger. He would savour the moment and return it right back to its place. As he stepped out of the room, he found the corridors outside to be chilly. No fires were heating up the place, so Yeosang could not help but wonder if his friend would feel cold.

A little evil voice in the back of his head whispered that a vampire would not freeze.

Yeosang pushed it away. He was not scared anyway, it did not matter. He would not let his gremlin brain take over his body and make his stomach twist and heart race.

With his breath returning to normal, he knocked on the door next to his. As the man hummed for him to enter, Yeosang made sure to peek only his head in at first. The shyness concerning the dress was far worse than the house owner potentially being a vampire. Or just having inhumanly long canines.

"Hello" Yeosang greeted with a smile "sleep good?"

The man on the bed nodded. Yeosang took notice of how he had somewhen changed into deep purple nightwear.

As the man gestured for him to come in Yeosang hesitated for a moment. It took him another few deep breaths and mental reassurances that he would be fine, before he dared to venture in. He barely took the first step inside with his cheeks burning a bright red when the man's eyes widened. He stared at Yeosang with his face gradually slipping. As Yeosang neared the bed, he could again see those fangs from between his opened lips.

He would not lie. They did look suspicious.

"Sorry..." As Yeosang came to stand at his side, he lowered his eyes to tug gently at the skirt. He was not sure how to explain, so instead of the awkward search for words, he just wordlessly pointed at the soup stains and tipped-over bowl on the ground. A noise of understanding came from the man.

Yet, when he scrutinised Yeosang's appearance, his face had evened out. He was not mad, and in the end, he even gave a little smile that made his eyes wrinkle. He nodded, mostly to himself.

Yeosang visibly deflated. He had passed the test. Did that mean he had to continue wearing the dress until he had cleaned his clothes, though? It appeared so. Still, he would not complain. The man had shown great understanding and hospitality towards Yeosang as an intruder. He would not push his luck.

He caught the dark and round eyes of the man again to pat his own tummy. His brows rose questioningly until the man nodded again.

Yeosang wondered why he did not speak. He was better at understanding French than speaking it, so if the man were to join him in the middle, their conversations would surely flow more naturally.

He would ask about that later. For now, food.

Feeling like a princess in a fairytale Yeosang went to the kitchens. He loved the feeling of the dress following him down the smooth stairs like liquid, and maybe he ran just a little in the dark corridors to imitate the dramatic feeling. He loved it.

He stood behind the stove humming and glad that he had taken the time to learn how to prepare food for himself. His family kept no helping personnel in their home, but usually, he was part of larger conventions that did, or he ate in inns. He seldomly needed to tend to himself, but now he was glad that his mother had pushed him to learn it. He missed her and her radiant smile. He would tell her all about the nameless boy with the adorable sniffles he had met in France for sure.

After finishing his preparations, Yeosang returned to his friend. While the merchant boy had been gone, the sick one had settled against the big headpiece of his bed and picked up a book. He set it down at his side when Yeosang approached.

Yeosang moved a chair over to the bed and settled the plates and bowls down on a blank piece of the large mattress. There was nothing better than breakfast in bed when one was sick. Yet, even as he moved to take his first bites, the man sat still, not eating.

Yeosang curiously looked at him with his cheeks stuffed with bread.

"Why?"

The man sighed deeply, turning his head away. He looked defeated.

Yeosang felt his heart fill with pity and remorse. Being pushed to eat when sick was horrible, he knew that, but it was a necessity to get back to health. His friend needed strength.

Yet, his gremlin brain dared to mention the whole vampire thing once more.

And Yeosang, in his youthful naivete, foolishly acted upon it.

He reached out to the man's full lips without hesitation. His movements were slow but set on their goal. The first brush of his fingertip against the man's lips was electrifying and sent a little coil of something through his stomach. Yeosang nearly flinched back but thought better of it to gently prod the man's lips. As soon as they parted around the digit, Yeosang found himself hindered by a fang.

"You are... a vampire?"

A surprised gasp came from the man. Yeosang quickly retreated and focused on their conversation instead of the feeling of his soft lips on his skin. He assumed that the French word for vampire was similar to its English correspondent.

For the first time, the man finally freely spoke to him without hiding. Yeosang could see his fangs flashing as he did and felt a stab of pity as he understood. The man had refrained from speaking in an attempt to hide them.

"How did you know?"

His accent was cute. Yeosang had to listen closely to understand his words, but his undeniable heritage made the English tongue sound far more interesting than Yeosang was used to. He smiled reassuringly at the man. He did not find the words to explain his hunch, but he tried motioning with his body how he had seen the teeth.

The man looked alarmed at first. His eyes were hard, and lips set tight as he observed Yeosang. The boy took great care in making sure his friend understood he meant no harm and that he was not scared. Now that the mystery was solved, a multitude of emotions crossed his youthful face.

There was fear, sadness, regret, and pain. He did not seem to experience anger at least, since it did not show on his features.

Yeosang pitied him. He never knew a vampire personally, but the myths the people told each other made it safe to assume that living as a supernatural creature was not easy. His friend had probably gone through lots of trouble in his life for it despite being a nice person.

He was just lonely. Incredibly lonely.

Yeosang had never experienced such loneliness. He was surrounded by people to the extent of wishing to be elsewhere. He oftentimes rolled his eyes at people that meant well. Yet, there were also people like this who had no chance to experience friendship and conversations since they had to hide away.

Yeosang's heart clenched with sadness.

He wanted to help. He wanted to see the man smile freely and show who he was. If not to the world, then at least to Yeosang. No person deserved to have to lock themselves away like this.

So with a confident smile, Yeosang settled his hand on the man's shoulder. His billowing sleeve landed over the man's arm softly.

"Alright. You alright." He gave a comforting pat.

The vampire looked surprised. Yet, he quickly schooled his expression and gave Yeosang a sincere, if close-lipped smile.

"My name is Jongho," he suddenly murmured in a low voice.

Yeosang gave him an even broader smile.

"Hello, Jongho."

-

Yeosang was intrigued. He found himself not too overly curious or fascinated with Jongho's being. Even more so, ever since he knew, he had accepted it quite smoothly. However, he was very much interested in Jongho as a person.

They had nothing much to talk about. Their living arrangements were based on a mutual understanding that needed no words. Maybe it was Jongho being so kind to him despite the stigma he carried, or maybe it was how well they clicked without talking much. It all connected to Yeosang adoring the time he lived in the mansion intensely and fearing it to come to an end.

They spent a lot of time together after they had resolved the prior mystery. Yeosang found himself teaching Jongho some English card games while Jongho was intrigued by playing chess with him. It all worked well as if they had known each other for years. The days seemed to pass way too fast, and yet Yeosang treasured every single moment.

When Jongho had healed from his cold a week later, they took a walk outside in the gardens. There was one corner that Yeosang had not visited upon his arrival since it was hidden behind a thick hedge. It featured a little path of stepping stones to the backdoor of the house, and had a small wooden gazebo that looked out into the frosty forest.

Jongho accompanied Yeosang there. He was wearing a warm dark coat over his clothes, and Yeosang wore his own jacket over his long dress. He had washed his clothes, but he still found himself wearing it, for he loved the feeling of it on his skin. Jongho, too, did not mind.

Yeosang had settled one of his hands on the arm Jongho had offered when they had gone out. He slipped once in the thin bed of snow, but Jongho had caught him right away. Like a gentleman, he had stabilised Yeosang at his elbow.

They had brought out some tea and just sat on the snowy benches sharing it in silence. Jongho had explained to him that there were usually beds of flowers here in summer. Yeosang had smiled brightly.

He knew that Jongho lived alone, and, by now, he doubted that the rest was just out on a journey. The man was here, all the time, without a soul near. He would be the only one to take joy tending to flowers here in summer. The thought was heartwarming and saddening at the same time.

Yeosang had watched Jongho attentively. The eyes of the man were lost in a far distance that Yeosang would never reach, but his physical form was right here. Yeosang studied the roundness of his soft cheeks, the slope of his flat nose and the pouty character of his lips.

"Jongho," he called out softly.

The man came back to himself, his eyes searching for Yeosang's.

The merchant boy put down his tea to lift a gloved hand to his sleeve. Carefully, he grasped the thin fabric.

"Who...?"

Jongho gave a little smile, his eyes sad. Whoever it was, that person was not here anymore.

He said something in French that Yeosang did not understand.

"Mon épose."

At the curious tilt of Yeosang's head, Jongho gently reached over to grasp his hand. It was the right one, and he pulled it from the sleeve to hold in his. Yeosang blushed as they were sitting close enough that Jongho could easily move Yeosang's hand over to his own lap. He then tenderly held Yeosang's palm with his left hand, while he wrapped the pointer finger of his right around Yeosang's ring finger with soft pressure.

"Épose."

Ah. Now, he understood.

With his heart heavy, Yeosang looked down at the dress. As he had assumed, it had emotional value, if far greater than he could have expected.

He wondered where she had gone. The woman that had married Jongho.

"I... alright?" He asked again just to know. He did not wish for Jongho to feel depressed whenever he laid his eyes upon Yeosang in this dress.

"You're alright. Very pretty."

Yeosang felt his heart flutter for the man for the first time.

-

Sooner than Yeosang had wished, the first month of his stay had passed. That meant the time that he would stay in France was halfway over.

He didn't know how to explain it to Jongho. He did not have the heart to tell the man that he was going to leave, especially not when Jongho was just starting to warm up to him. His eyes grew softer by the day, and Yeosang sometimes saw a little sliver of teeth or gums in his smile. He was not ready to take this newfound happiness away from Jongho.

The thought of Jongho being alone here and planting his flowers with nobody around to show them to nearly ripped Yeosang's heart apart. It the night marking the middle of his stay, he had cried himself to sleep. He was not ready to leave.

One day Yeosang returned from the town where he had met with his father and gotten some food to find Jongho sitting in the living room. He was reading the book that Yeosang had used as a memo and looked classy with his legs crossed and his head supported by his fist. He might as well have been a beautiful statue.

Yet, Yeosang immediately narrowed his eyes at him as he entered.

Jongho looked sick. He looked pale and gaunt, resembling the picture lore painted of vampires. He did not seem to have caught an illness, but rather he seemed to not be eating enough.

Yeosang figured it made sense. Jongho never ate the meals that Yeosang prepared for them. He lived off something else. Something that Yeosang had not seen him consume ever since he stayed there.

Blood.

So far, Jongho had not shown any signs of malnourishment or weakness. He had been like a steady rock on Yeosang's side, not touched by any outer influences. Yet, his body seemed tense today. He barely even noticed Yeosang as he dropped down next to him on the sofa.

With nimble fingers, Yeosang pushed his blond hair behind his ear. He had not tied it together in the back today, so it tickled his neck. He wondered if he should try wearing it short like Jongho did.

"Jongho..."

Yeosang waited for the man to hum absent-mindedly before he continued speaking.

"Are you hungry?"

At that, Jongho perked up. The book in his hand was forgotten as he let it sink into his lap. The fiery gaze he wore was intense enough to have Yeosang glancing down at his own lap shyly. He was not sure how sensitive the topic was for the vampire. Yeosang was far from being able to relate, so he was rather careful in tiptoeing around it.

"No. I'm fine." With a sigh, Jongho looked back down at his book. His well-kept and pretty hands moved to turn the page. Yeosang watched him attentively before studying his face once more.

He was not fine.

"You... Do you want to eat me?"

He had no better way of putting it. They had quickly understood that Jongho knew a few phrases he had learned from the English books he read but had trouble piecing the language together. Even more so with understanding it. Yeosang's French was bad, but at least a bit better.

Still, Jongho could not hold back the wry grin that crossed over his lips at the question. More than usual, he looked as if he wanted to say something, but it ended in a frustrated frown when neither had the vocabulary.

"Do you want me to eat you?"

Yeosang blushed. His mind gave him a less than appropriate answer for that. But that was not the topic! This was about sustaining Jongho no matter how knowingly the man grinned at him.

Instead of an answer, Yeosang just held out his wrist while averting his eyes. He had no idea where vampires preferred to eat if it was not the neck, but he trusted Jongho. He would know what to do and where to go. If Yeosang's assumptions were correct, he could feed anywhere.

And indeed, Jongho classily finished reading his sentence while his free hand already came up to grasp Yeosang's wrist. He put his book away after that and left it on the little table before he turned towards Yeosang. He still held his hand in his as if it was the biggest treasure as he put up one of his legs on the couch between them.

His eyes searched Yeosang's full of sincerity and care. The topic seemed important to him.

Yeosang nodded carefully. He was sure that he wanted this. He wanted to help Jongho.

Jongho gave a faint smile at Yeosang's seriousness. His expression was trustful.

After the vampire was sure to find not even a sliver of hesitance on Yeosang's face, he slowly leaned over him. He found the man's wrist easily with his lips. For a moment, it was just warm. Yeosang's pale skin contrasted with the man's natural tan.

Then, Jongho slowly opened his mouth. His lashes fluttered shut as his long teeth first touched skin. Yeosang held his breath when they penetrated his flesh and dug inside of his body.

The bite was not as deep as he had expected yet incredibly more painful. Yeosang nearly flinched away at the large intrusion into his body. The tips of Jongho's teeth might have been sharp, but his fangs bluntly ripped open the wound as they sunk deeper and thus grew in diameter.

Yeosang grimaced but held back every sound of complaint by biting his own lips. Rather, he was enraptured by the sight of bright red blood staining his wrist and Jongho's lips.

The man pulled out his teeth to drink; lapping up and swallowing down every drop that he could reach. The act made Yeosang's stomach turn with nausea, but he found himself not caring too much in his heart. This was what Jongho was. Yeosang was in too deep to care much about the man's eating habits.

The sight was bizarre. Despite Yeosang having spent a lot of time thinking about vampires and accepting who they were due to his friendship to Jongho, he had yet to understand their preferred food. As a human, every aspect of it screamed danger to him, but he also found himself deeply fascinated.

Jongho gently sucked on his skin, just hard enough that Yeosang could feel the blood leaving his body. The pull was slightly uncomfortable, but since it was only his arm, he could see himself getting used to it. Even more so, he would not mind doing this for Jongho again. While it was weird, it did not push him away.

Yeosang sank back against the cushions as he relaxed after the first tense moments. Jongho followed the movement until they had settled comfortably into the couch. The human waited patiently as the warm tongue of his friend collected even the last lone drops. By the time he pulled back, Yeosang's spiked heart rate had settled to a normal pace again.

He gave Jongho a dazzling smile as he turned to check on him. When he saw that Yeosang was fine, he gave a shy little grin. Then, he motioned for Yeosang to hold his arm while he went to fetch bandages.

Yeosang let him take care of the injury without taking his eyes off Jongho's concentrated face even once. He looked cute as he pouted when distracted.

-

Yeosang tried to spend as much time as possible with Jongho before he had to leave. By the time his father told him they would have to go within the week, the snow had disappeared almost completely, and the last few cold days of the winter were expected. Up at the mansion, a thin layer of ice was still lying over everything, but the first grasses had appeared in the gardens where they carefully poked the tips of their stems through the snow bed.

Yeosang would have loved to stay and see the flowers bloom that Jongho was going to plant here, but he had no time.

On the day of their goodbyes, Yeosang had the hardest time talking. Not once had it been so hard for his tongue and throat to cooperate and form words before. It took him hours of hesitation until he finally got them out.

"I will go," he murmured towards Jongho. They were sitting on the seat by the window and read their respective books while their legs framed each other in the middle between them. It was comfortable to switch between the rich taste of hot tea, a good book, and the view of the valley and ocean outside.

Jongho tilted his head questioningly. The book in his lap was forgotten as he concentrated on Yeosang only.

Tired, Yeosang pushed his hair back, the sleeve of his dress slipping down to expose his milky wrist. It had healed completely within the month, not living a scar for Yeosang's father to fret over.

"Where to?"

"My home. England."

Jongho looked at him with a blank face. Yeosang tried to ignore how his insides twisted and turned with regret as he saw Jongho shut him out. To protect his heart, it was understandable that he reacted like this. He had lost all of his family and friends, even his wife to loneliness. And now, even Yeosang would leave him behind.

He felt terrible.

"I'm sorry."

Jongho lowered his eyes to his book, his lashes fluttering slightly. He was trying so hard not to show his sadness, but Yeosang saw it in the ways his knuckles were white as he gripped the book. Suspicious wetness shimmered in his eyes.

"It's fine."

More than ever before Yeosang hated that they could not talk to each other. He had so much to say, so much to ask before he left. Yet, he would have to leave so many things unsaid. He wanted to apologise earnestly and explain himself, but there was no option to choose from.

So instead, he could just stare at his lap with his hands balled to fists. He wouldn't let the hot anger and disappointment in himself bubble over. When it got too much for him to bear, he abruptly got to his feet. He still had things to prepare.

He left Jongho behind as he excited their cosy warm room. He knew that the man was hurt and needed a moment to regain his composure. Even a vampire was not immune to the cruelty of fate.

Yeosang returned to his room to find his bag to pack. He put on his original clothes and neatly hung the dress back into the closet it belonged into. It looked lonely and lost in its place. Yeosang wondered if it would find another owner soon. One that might ease Jongho's solitude without leaving after two months.

Yeosang tried not to linger, but could not keep himself from it.

He let his fingers run one last time over the smooth linen on his bed. One last glance out of the window was meant to ingrain the beautiful wintery sight in his brain. The book he had last been reading in the dark moments before he went to sleep having sweet dreams about Jongho stayed where it was, right on the nightstand.

Only after Yeosang had made sure to remember it all in his head, did he leave.

He passed Jongho's room to go back downstairs. Jongho had left the sitting room, so for a short, panic-stricken moment, Yeosang assumed he had hidden away. His heart clenched painfully at the thought of leaving without getting to say goodbye.

However, as he turned on the corner of the staircase with his legs trembling, he found the man again. He was standing near the entrance door with Yeosang's warm coat folded over his arm. His face was a mask of indifference, and he quickly averted his eyes as Yeosang approached so he would not see the hurt in them.

Yeosang's heart dropped to his stomach.

He had made a mistake.

Despite knowing how lonely Jongho had been, he had approached him. He had foolishly fallen in love with the man and got him to trust him enough to open his heart. He had dropped all walls and shown Yeosang even the most hidden parts of himself.

Yet, Yeosang did it all knowing he would leave.

Hot tears brimmed in his eyes.

"Jongho-" He choked on the man's name, not finding the words he wanted to say around the knot in his throat.

Jongho clenched his jaw, stubbornly holding out the coat so Yeosang could slip it on. The merchant boy shakingly did so, nearly getting stuck in the garment. When his hands both emerged, he halted, standing with his back to his friend.

The guilt was too big for him to even face him. How could Yeosang look him in the face and just walk away like that?

He expected Jongho to leave right away, but the man surprised him again. Instead of the sound of retreating steps, Yeosang was greeted with warm and strong arms that wrapped around his middle. They pulled his trembling form back against a sturdy body that felt like a protective shield.

Yeosang's heart did a little somersault in his chest as he breathed out shakily.

"Thank you, Yeosang. Farewell."

Then, there was the barest press of gentle lips to Yeosang's cheek.

The boy's eyes went wide as he felt warmth spreading from that place all the way to his heart. It filled him with a sweet agony that made him want to jubilate with happiness and cry bitter tears at the same time.

Too soon, that moment ended. As Jongho's lips disappeared, he also pulled away from Yeosang. Cold seeped into his very being.

Yeosang turned around one last time to give the man a smile. It must have looked painfully forced and fleeting on his face, but he could not bring himself to anything more.

"Au revoir."

With that, Yeosang stepped out into the biting cold that could no longer numb him any further.

-

"Get the crates with the spices over there, I don't want them to tumble all over the deck! Smiths, if I don't see those barrels getting put in the loading area soon, I'll get handsy! Also, James, what even is that, I-"

Yeosang got lost between the people running over the deck of the ship in a mess. He was trying to keep up with his father, who was still ordering people around so they could set sail soon. The distressed face of the older man showed impatience that was typical for him whenever he longed for home.

Usually, Yeosang would have burrowed himself in his cabin already with a book and maybe taken a nap to the gentle lull of the sea. However, this time, he found himself following his father like a lost puppy. There were words he wanted to tell him, but whenever the situation arose, he felt his heart sink enough to shut him up.

He dodged another man, catching up again.

He was missing the courage to get it over with.

Yeosang stumbled over another man's feet as he roughly shouldered past the boy, not even dropping an apology. Grumbling, Yeosang rubbed his calf.

"No, over there! Put them where they aren't in the way! Get moving, Smiths, and for God's sake, Yeosang, please, go to your room already! I can't-"

"I have a question for you, father!" Yeosang squeaked quickly, seizing his chance. If he was sent away and the ship left the port, it would be too late for anything.

His father halted and furrowed his brow as he looked down upon Yeosang. His expression seemed more curious than distrusting.

"You do?"

Yeosang shyly nodded and lowered his head.

"I... You know how I found such a precious friend during my time here..."

His father nodded, his weathered face not showing any reaction yet. Yeosang gathered his remaining strength.

"I don't want to leave him just yet. Is there any way for me to stay in France?"

At that, his father seemed surprised, if not much. He stroked his goatee in thought.

Yeosang knew it was not unreasonable. He had nothing to return to. All he did was travel with his father and study to take over his trade one day. He was an adult, by now, who had learned a lot. Maybe there would be a possibility to stay.

"Trade with France has been doing well... I actually think it might become one of our top exchanging partners. Having people here who learn the language and the lifestyle of the locals sure would be no loss. Do you wish to do that?"

Yeosang's face bloomed at his father's words. Enthusiastic, he nodded.

"Definitely! I can tell you everything about how these people haggle and what they desire next time you come here! In fluent French!"

His father grinned at him, his face benevolent for his only son. As he reached out to ruffle Yeosang's hair, the boy could not keep himself from bouncing happily on his spot and clapping his hands.

"I see you are very motivated to learn. Then stay, son. I shall write you a letter the next time we come by. I expect you to study hard. If you search for Monsieur Robert in town, he can surely take you as an apprentice. I hope this person is worth it. Let me meet him next time I visit."

Yeosang's father smiled warmly at his son. Yeosang shot forward in a spontaneous hug that the man accepted with boisterous laughter before patting his shoulder.

"Then hurry before the captain accidentally takes you back to England! I wish you the best here. Take this money, too."

"Thank you! Thank you a lot, I will work hard!" Yeosang snatched the bag of coins his father handed him and then shot off like greased lightning. Some crew members laughed at him as he sprung like a rabbit between them.

Faster than he had ever been, Yeosang finished his preparations. He hurried down the ship that everybody was boarding. His father waved at him one last time, but the busy men drowned out their calls of farewell. Yet, Yeosang left with a huge grin on his face.

He jogged through the city at a fast pace that made him struggle for air around the cold that permeated his lungs. Still, he pushed on until he got back to the mountain road that led up the hill to the mansion. He started climbing like a mad man, sweat heating up his clothes and his breath coming in irregular patterns.

Luck was on his side today.

The man responsible for the forest around the mansion passed him on the steep path. At seeing Yeosang's struggle, he offered him a ride in the back of his carriage that the boy gladly accepted. He saved a lot of time in the little open vehicle that a pretty horse with sturdy legs pulled. Yet his hands and feet could barely keep still, and by the time they arrived at the crossroad leading to the mansion, Yeosang nearly exploded with nervousness.

The man used his hands to explain that he would have to go further into the woods, so Yeosang jumped off and thanked him profusely. He ran the last bit himself while the old man and his horse trotted on.

Yeosang reached the mansion panting and not even bothering to knock. He barged right in and dropped his bag to look around for Jongho.

It had only been two days since Yeosang had left for the town; the man would not have gone anywhere.

Indeed, Yeosang quickly spotted the open back door. Jongho must have gone outside.

The boy ran over as fast as his feet could carry him and nearly slipped on the polished tiles when the snow under his soles made for a dangerous slide. He managed somehow and emerged back to a world of white and dark greens.

"Jongho!"

He found Jongho inside the gazebo, where he was just freeing the all surfaces from the snow. At Yeosang's excited call, his head snapped up to search disbelievingly for the owner of the voice. When he found Yeosang at the entrance, his doe eyes went wide.

Hurrying, Yeosang ran over to join him in the little wooden structure. However, this time he actually slipped on the steps leading up. Jongho was right there to catch him, but even he could not save Yeosang from hitting his shin against the wooden stairs hard.

Wobbling, he sunk into Jongho's arms nonetheless.

"Yeosang? Why... You didn't go?" He sounded confused and worried. His big hands steadied Yeosang still, but his loyal eyes started to travel over his form as if he was searching for an injury.

"No! I decided to learn French and work here in France! So, I will stay! Here, with you!"

He probably spoke gibberish, but Jongho still understood. And his mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"You... will stay?"

"Yes. Right here."

A tense moment passed between the two of them, then Jongho was already yanking Yeosang forward. They sunk into a full embrace instead of just holding each other's elbows awkwardly. Yeosang finally got to bury his head in that firm chest and wrap his arms around Jongho's rather narrow waist.

Neither spoke anymore as they clung to each other in the gazebo. Finally, Yeosang had the feeling as if they had talked it out. It had needed no words since his decision was every answer it ever took. And Jongho agreed.

Yeosang didn't want to let him go again, now that he was finally here. So when Jongho made a little noise and shifted to pull back, Yeosang immediately whined for him to stop.

As an answer came a gentle hand that cupped his face and cradled his jaw just how it had his arm. As if Yeosang was a precious thing that Jongho had to treat with care. It tipped up his chin until Yeosang was looking at Jongho. Their eyes met, relaying every feeling between them that had gone unsaid.

Then, Jongho's lashes fluttered shut, and he kissed Yeosang.

The first touch of lips came as a surprise. However, as he found himself quite liking the soft warmth, Yeosang left it to his face to flush as he sunk into Jongho's arms once more.

Yeosang had never kissed a person before, so he felt slightly clumsy and out of place. However, Jongho melted into him as if they were made for each other and guided him with sweetness and patience. Soon, Yeosang knew how to kiss him back and could get lost in the feeling.

The cold could not reach them as long as they shared sweet kisses. Despite winter weaving its spell around them, Yeosang felt as if spring had already come. His heart was singing and dancing with glee, and he felt as if he was floating.

A little giggle escaped him as soon as Jongho separated their lips. Their foreheads knocked together gently, and a huge grin broke out on Jongho's face. It made his eyes wrinkle cutely, and his cheeks squish over his bright smile. It showed off his gums and fangs, brightening up his whole face and making him look less serious and far younger.

With shining eyes, Yeosang stretched to catch Jongho's lips in another kiss.

This time, he had made the right decision.