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Spring was Seokmin’s favorite season.

Growing up in a small community surrounded with nothing but the loving arms of Mother Nature and away from bigger districts that were rapidly adapting with the abrupt advancements of technology, he had seen the wonders of Her magic, leaves bursting from branches like fireworks of green, flowers blooming from fields that had been lifeless in what felt like decades, the smell of pine and smoke transforming to something sweeter.

Her shield of thick forests and wide pastures had given Seokmin the privilege of living a life with no haste, waking up at dawn to watch the sun slowly peek from the horizon, color the world with the palest hues of bronze, indigo, and peach, appreciate the peace and serenity the new day brought instead of facing the daybreak with dread as his friend Minghao once shared when he visited after leaving to work in one of the farther region, gracing the friends and family he left behind with wonderful and riveting stories of his tiring but fulfilling journey.

“It’s true what they say about modern societies,” he remembered his friend saying with melancholy dripping thickly from his voice, “The days and the nights are shorter, and the seasons don’t even matter.”

Spring, Seokmin thought, was something he couldn’t live without.

He asked him then why he just couldn’t just stay at home, wondered out loud why he felt the need to put himself through the crippling pressure of neoteric demands, holding back his tongue when the other mentioned a boy he met, another artisan that shared the same passion of ceramics and paintings as him.

“He’s a delight,” Minghao chirped with a lilt he hadn’t heard from his voice before, his face brightening up as he talked more about the other man between sips of his steaming chamomile, “Jun,” he said, the name of the boy who had tinted his gray life with multicolored stains, “I’d like to take him here when we have more free time in our hands. I think he’ll love it here.”

Seokmin didn’t understand that then.

“Love,” was what his mother said when he asked her about Minghao’s decision to stay with a boy far away from home, slightly bitter with tear tracks on his cheeks, toying with a pot of primrose his friend refused to take with him, “It’ll die in the district,” he reasoned out, taking a bag of tea leaves instead before leaving him with a hug as warm as the first day of summer.

Looking back, he regretted how he spent most of his times in misery as more and more of his friends started leaving home, embarking in their own separate journeys in hopes of seeing the entirety of the world before taking their last breaths, promising the elders and their lands that they would return, decay in the same earth that conceived them.

He didn’t understand anything, his nights plagued with too many questions of uncertainty, lost and his heart almost in agony as he thought of what path he should take, whether he should stay or leave- guilt bubbling in the pit of his stomach every waking hours of being warmed by the light Mother Nature had provided.

“It’s perfectly alright to stay, you know?” Seungcheol once told him in the middle of winter, the harsh winds and the absence of sunlight multiplying his sorrow tenfold, finding himself bundled in wool and the arms of his friend, the fire warm and cackling as he listened to the older one, “There are people who wants to see and experience more, and there are people who are perfectly content with where they are- both are completely fine.”

He was not wrong.

“I’ve always thought you’d be the first one to leave,” he remembered saying, pulling away slightly from his friend to look him in the eyes- curious, “You’ve always been the one pushing us to explore the mountains, my mother even said you were born for adventures,” he blinked, hugging his coat closer to his body, “So why didn’t you leave?”

And Seokmin didn’t know how someone could glow as much as Seungcheol did in one of the grimmest winter they were experiencing but he recalled just how serene the other looked, the smile on his mouth small and almost shy, the twinkle in his eyes resembling the sparkle of the ocean under the highest sun.

“I fell in love,” Seungcheol shrugged, the color of crimson seeping from underneath his skin and on top of his cheeks, the same look of tranquility he witnessed on Minghao’s face when he was talking about Jun shrouding the features of the older, sighing before getting up and looking at the freezing world outside his abode, “It’s not right for me to leave when my heart is tied here.”

“With who?” he maundered out, looking up at the other man with growing interest.

“With what is the right question,” the older one turned to him, his beam wide and warm, “Winter is the prettiest in the wild, don’t you think?”

Spring was too.

And then he was left alone to ponder with what he just heard, the words inside his head sewn in a way that he couldn’t comprehend, a frown settling on his face as the other bid him farewell, braving the cruel winter to walk by the frozen lake, a handful of dried carnation in his hands.

There were a lot of things that didn’t make sense to him- love, being one of them.

“What did he mean?” he asked his mother when she returned from a trade in the nearest district, his muscles aching after helping the elders sort through carts of cotton and leather, “Is it possible to fall in love with something that isn’t human?”

“Of course you can, child,” the older Lee chuckled, patting his head as she placed a bowl of porridge in front of him, sunlight slipping past thick white clouds to play with the shadows on his table- spring was coming, and the mere thought of it almost had him forgetting about Seungcheol’s declarations, “You love this place that’s why you have no desire to leave, maybe that’s what your friend is saying.”

“But he,” he started, slumping on his chair as a sense of helplessness settled heavily on his shoulders as he bit on his tongue, staring up at his mother who was watching him with amusement- a part of him wanted to tell her about the look both Minghao and Seungcheol donned when they were talking about love, but a bigger part of him had held him back, a voice at the back of his head saying that it was not his matter to discuss, that it wasn’t something he could intervene and meddle with so he smiled at her instead and said, “Maybe,” turning his attention to the snow melting outside, catching Seungcheol’s figure running towards the woods with a solemn smile on his lips, mouth moving as if he was speaking to someone else.

April was about to be born, and so he did his best to help the community welcome spring with his usual pep, gratefully listening to every elders that had stories about growth and life to tell, holding on to their knowledge and wisdom like a child learning his first set of alphabet.

Mother Nature was old, that was a fact that Seokmin knew even before he could learn how to stand in two feet. She was old and every spring, she grew older and older, and in his eyes, more beautiful and more beautiful with fresh orange and pink blooms appearing in the expanse of the earth, the lightest greens flourishing across fields and hills, daffodils and dandelions growing in every crevices of her being- Mother Nature was old, but every spring she would breathe life unto the world like it was her first, and then she would sing.

She was old and wise, and so Seokmin blamed his ignorance with his age.

He was sixteen when Minghao first talked about Jun, and he had just turned nineteen when Seungcheol told him that the winter was the prettiest up in the mountains where they lived- and as he welcomed spring on the year he turned twenty-one, he understood then what they were both talking about.

“Did one of you guys brought a friend here from the district?” he frowned as he joined his friends at a small campfire Minghao’s father made for them, the crisp air of early springtime just a perfect temperature to keep them cool and still cozy, choosing to sit between Minghao and Wonwoo, the two of them just arriving that morning for a short visit home.

“Just Jun,” Minghao answered, raising a hand up in the air to beckon his partner over who was talking animatedly with the curious kids of the community, vibrant flowers tucked behind his ears- he looked like he belonged, that was the first thought that entered his mind upon meeting the other man, his build perfect for a hunter and his delicate hands just right for being gatherer, “I’m not sure about the other boys, though- I heard Vernon has someone with him too. Why?”

“I saw someone playing with a group of deer by the stone bridge,” he mumbled, scooting closer to Wonwoo to make some space for Jun on their bench, smiling when the other offered him a small bunch of wallflowers, “I didn’t recognize him so I assumed he came with you.”

“What did he look like?” Wonwoo inquired, handing out pieces of bread to both Chan and Seungcheol who had just joined them after a day of tending the fences around the community’s farmland, the two plopping on the ground with their muddied pants.

“He looks,” he started, clamping his mouth shut as the words beautiful and graceful flashed in his mind, stopping himself from spilling his thoughts as curious eyes trained themselves at him, goosebumps peppering his arms when he found himself racking his brain for what the man looked like but getting nothing but vignettes of grass blades dancing in the wind, “He was wearing,” he tried again, his frown deepening when he couldn’t find words to describe the frock the person he saw donning- a small part of him unsure if he really saw someone or not, “He-”

“Are you alright, Seokmin?” Chan asked, his friend’s voice enough to pull him out of his hazy mind, the flowers Jun gave crumbling to the ground as he opened that hands he didn’t even know he had clenched, “Were you peeping on someone taking a bath at the stream?”

“What?” he exclaimed, the younger man’s accusations successfully anchoring his thoughts in the present, the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment, “I wasn’t! I just thought I saw someone from the district playing in the forest, you know how dangerous the woods could be if you aren’t familiar with it.”

“Did you talk to him?” Minghao queried, raising an eyebrow in his direction, “It might be one of the district boys, you know we aren’t the only one who came home to visit.”

“I didn’t,” he breathed out, the image of the bridge where he saw the man clear and vivid in his head, the group of deer still present, running and playing around on an empty space where he thought he saw the stranger. He shook his head, “I was carrying a hog- I didn’t have the time to talk to hi-”

“He was peeping,” Wonwoo interrupted, teasing him with a nudge and making the group break in laughter as he felt his whole face flush, the others joining in to jab harmlessly at him, heart flipping when he met Seungcheol’s gaze, the older one breaking their brief eye contact as he quietly ate his bread, his features almost stern.

“You don’t believe them, do you?” he asked Seungcheol when his friends had gone up one by one, heading to their abodes to clean up and help out for dinner, “You know I can’t do that, right? My mother didn’t raise me to be that kind of person.”

“I know,” Seungcheol muttered with a smile playing on his mouth, folding his arms in front of him as he turned to face him, “Just be careful in the woods, alright?”

In hindsight, Seokmin wished he had listened.

It was nearing five in the afternoon when Seokmin found himself crouching behind thick bushes of berries in the forest the next day, the apples of his cheeks warm as he remembered the way his friends teased him about peeping, and in his current position, he really wouldn’t blame them if they saw him right then and accused him of it again, pins and needles spreading on his legs as he remained motionless, too afraid to make a move, too transfixed to even blink.

Beautiful couldn’t really do justice to describe the stranger by the stone bridge, his movements balletic and fluid as if he was dancing intricately with the sound of the stream as his music, his heart hopping like a bunny in the field as he found himself comparing the man’s actions with how the dandelions swung against the softest breeze of late April, his vision hazy as the stranger stopped twirling with a brown fox, sitting on the ground beside a family of hedgehogs, long and delicate fingers plucking wildflowers and weaving them to form a crown.

Surrounded with vibrant greens and pastel pinks and yellows, Seokmin couldn’t help but think of the word his grandmother used to describe deities- ethereal, the embers beneath his skin smoldering at the thought, losing his balance and then falling on his behind, the sound of crisp leaves echoing around the forest, his breath hitching when he hauled himself up and found nothing but a flimsy crown where the man once sat.

Seokmin ran back home with pins and needles still peppering his legs, and there was charcoal on his hand even before his mother could ask him where he had been.

Leaning heavily on his bedroom door with a bunch of paper Wonwoo had given him from his last visit, tremors ran through his fingers as he did his best to illustrate what he saw by the woods, drawing the lines of the trees and the cluster of leaves with ease, etching varying flowers he knew by heart in just a couple of minutes, mind throbbing and heart racing as he closed his eyes, trusted his instincts and began sketching the figure dancing around his head, the soft slopes and the pointed edges of his body melting from his consciousness and unto the paper in front of him.

He was no artist, and he was nowhere nearly as good as Minghao but opening his eyes and blinking down on his hasty sketch, he found himself swallowing lump on his throat, the person he was trying to depict with mediocre skills staring back at him with blurred wonder and specks of charcoal marring his face.

“Are you sure it wasn’t Seungkwan?” Chan asked him the next morning, both of them just heading back from the clearing to watch the sun rise, the smell of lemon and rhubarb drifting heavily in the air, perfectly bronzed pies perched just by the windows of every abodes in the community, both of their bags filled with wild basil and coriander they found along the way, “Vernon did say his friend was wandering around yesterday.”

“It wasn’t him,” he answered, fidgeting with the straps of his bag as he lead Chan back to his father’s apothecary stand, resisting the urge to make a left and head towards the bridge to see if the man was there, forcing himself to drown the impulse because he knew Chan wasn’t really the best at keeping secrets, adamant on not giving his friends more ammunition to tease him about “his boy,” as Vernon liked to call the stranger.

“Have you seen him again?” the younger one asked, jogging up a little to match his long strides, his whole body buzzing at the faded vignettes of the man inside his mind, the colors of the flower crown he made almost melting down to nothing as memories of him started fading once more, slower than the first time he saw him but still dissipating nonetheless, “We could go to the plaza to look around for your boy if you wan-”

“He’s not my boy,” he muttered exasperatedly, giving his friend a glare he hoped was as piercing as Minghao’s, slightly deflating when all he received was an amused chuckle and a shove on the shoulder.

“Not my boy,” Chan echoed with a mocking tone, matching his strides with bouncy and flamboyant skips, “I’m only meddling because I’d like to see you happy like the rest of the hyungs,” he heard him explain, the lilt in his voice fitting perfectly with the songs of the birds flying overhead, “So if you need my help, you just have to tell me.”

“You’re seventeen, what do you know about finding happiness?” he rebutted, shaking his head as the younger one stuck his tongue out towards him, greeting his father a good morning before ducking to enter their stand, “I’ll see you later,” he mumbled, waving towards the older man who was grounding some herbs in his mortar, smiling up at him kindly, “Hi, Mister Lee.”

“Found your boy yet?” Chan’s father raised an eyebrow, the duo behind the apothecary’s stand sharing a laugh as he grumbled yet another, “He’s not my boy,” before stalking back to his own abode glumly, handing what he foraged to his mother who had just finished storing the leeks and turnips they grew over winter, rhubarb and rock sugar boiling away on two huge pots.

“Ma, spring had just started,” he wondered out loud, grabbing a turnip by the table, “How come we already have rhubarbs and lemons?”

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” her mother beamed, sorting the herbs he picked over the sink, “The deities must be pleased about something.”

Ethereal.

Ethereal.

Ethereal.

Seokmin felt as if he was in some sort of trance as May approached, time traveling rapidly in a way that he hadn’t experienced before- it was queer and he had no choice but abide, keep up with the running days and exhausted evenings, spend the moments in between by the bush overlooking the stone bridge, charcoal and paint tinting his calloused hands, the image of the stranger by the bridge finally clear and vivid in his mind, large doe umber eyes sparkling under the brightest light, cheeks plump and occasionally colored peach, mouth always pulled in a charming smile with lips dyed roseate- he was truly an image of beauty, skin almost sparkling when the rays of sun hugged him, his hair wavy and playful in the wind.

The teasing had ceased the moment he stopped talking about the boy by the stone bridge, his friends that had stayed home in the hearth of Mother Nature too enraptured by the great abundance of crops the spring had given them to question him about his endeavors in the woods, and the elders too overjoyed by the blessings of the deities to even ask him about his increasing purchases of paper and paint, the only ever person causing his heart to stutter at times was Seungcheol, the older man always peering at him curiously, almost always there to see him off and welcome him back.

“Do you know something that I don’t?” he asked him in the middle of May, the taste of oolong tea lingering in his mouth as he pulled the older man aside, his whole body buzzing with apprehension and fear, already too worked up because he had just decided then that he was finally going to let his presence known to the stranger that had danced its way to his head and his heart, “Do you know he is?”

“The wind listens,” Seungcheol mumbled under his breath, snatching a piece of paper from under his arm and fishing a thin graphite from his satchel, scribbling hastily as the sun started to set, dark crimson and indigo bleeding from the sky and unto the earth, casting an almost ominous shadow upon his friend’s features, “Make of it as you will,” he heard him whisper, thrusting the crumpled paper in his hand before offering him a small smile, clapping his back as he returned to their friends at the plaza.

The son of Spring.

It was strange how cold it had become as May started wasting away, and Seokmin couldn’t help but feel as if the spring engulfing the community had started to wither instead of grow- the crops still grew, and the flowers still smelled saccharine but the sense of melancholia hung heavy in the air, the usual hum of the crickets in the night mute and lifeless, the songs of the early birds in the morning like an ode akin to heartbreak.

“Can you feel that?” he asked his mother just a day before June started, his eyes trained on the flourishing mayflowers and violets outside their house, their stillness hard to ignore, and the void in his chest even harder to disregard, “Something is wrong and I don’t know what it is.”

“Have you been reading old Jeon’s poems again?” he heard her muse, turning towards the sound of her voice to see her with a worried look on her face, both hands on her hips, “You know how sad his works make you.”

“I’m not,” he mumbled as he sunk deeper in his knitted cardigan, a part of him grateful he wasn’t looking at the world outside anymore- everything was different, and every bit of spring he enjoyed started becoming foreign in his system, loneliness cradling him until the wee hours of the night, lungs filled with shards of frosts with every breath of air he took, “I can’t explain it but-” he stopped himself, chewing on his lips instead of saying how painful everything was, worried that his mother would ask a question he wouldn’t be able to answer, “Never mind.”

“Why’d you stop going to the woods, Seokmin?” his mother frowned, walking towards him to place the back of her hand on his forehead and then his neck, “You’re not sick, are you?” she queried further, tilting his head from side to side before checking his pulse, “Or did you fight with one of your friends?”

“I didn’t,” he shook his head, blinking up at his mother with haze marring his vision, the ache in his chest spreading all over his body- it was surreal, he thought, how at that moment, he was able to acknowledge that his sorrow was caused by not seeing the beautiful boy by the stone bridge, the poignancy of his sadness bleeding from his fingertips and unto the world around him, rendering spring, the season of happiness, to nothing but clouded weeks of grief.

“Bring your papers and paints to the woods this afternoon,” the older Lee exhaled, pinching his cheeks before going back to folding her laundry, “You haven’t been out for days, child. Go out and play.”

And who was Seokmin if not an obedient son?

It was still spring even when his insides felt like winter, the grass under his feet was still the same luscious green he had seen weeks ago, the ferns and the bluebells along the paths towards the woods that became his place of rest still teeming and lively- he was nervous without any real reason, his whole body buzzing with something akin to the sounds of the cicadas during the peak of June, the sound of the rushing stream hiding the loud thumping of his heart.

He liked the stranger dancing in the forest, he already admitted that to himself when he started working for Minghao’s father in exchange of money for paper, the tremors in his hands returning as he forced himself to hike to the familiar clearing that witnessed him draw spring in full bloom, a part of him uneasy with the idea of returning to console his bleeding heart- he was the son of Spring, Seungcheol had told him, a fae, as what the elders would call the children of the seasons, mythical and powerful, made of unexplained energy and magic, ethereal.

Seokmin didn’t know if it was right to listen to his mother, didn’t know if he should’ve just went to Chan’s house to help out with their stand and then wait for Seungcheol to return to his trip instead, maybe ask him how he knew, ask him what he should do but looking up at the slope he needed to climb to reach the bushes that had hidden his fondness, there was some sort of force pulling him close, his legs moving as if they have a mind of their own, his hands gripping the veins and the rocks he always used to haul him up.

And with final step, his world was suddenly in bud.

Spring’s pardon came in a form of an exceptional painting right before his eyes- the stunning basilica of the cloud-dotted sky arches above tall cypress trees, branches bending with lush cluster of leaves that looked like jades, a handful of them falling gently with every gust of afternoon wind, dancing in the air, twirling and spinning, landing back to the earth brimming with the softest fescues- Seokmin was in awe, and Seokmin was glad he was there to witness such magnificence, carefully walking towards the figure of the man that had made a home in his head since the start of April, curled in on himself with his arms around his legs, and his knees tucked beneath his chin, sleeping on the spot where he drew Mother Nature and him.

Seokmin should be scared, he really, really should. Faced with something he had no understanding of, the first thing he should’ve done was run, but with tentative steps, he found himself moving forward, breathing in the sweet scent of honeydew that lingered heavily in the air, the shards of ice in his lungs instantly melting under the slivers of sunlight seeping from in between crisp leaves- spring was starting to feel right again, and sitting just a meter away from the boy that played by the stone bridge, fingers automatically reaching out for his charcoal and paper to sketch, the oddity of his situation felt as normal as breathing.

Tucked away from his community and enveloped by the woods with one of the sons of Spring, Seokmin felt safe, the blades of grass gentle against his skin, the sprouts from beneath moist soil waving up at the sky as he soaked in the undeniable energy of life radiating from the fae, snaking its way from its owner, through the distance between them and on his fingertips up to the points of his ears, pleasant and tender, softly caressing his cheeks with warm essence- he wished the other man would wake up, the hair at the back of his neck standing when he saw the fae stir in time with his thoughts, swallowing hard when sparkling ember eyes blinked up at him.

“Hello,” was the only word he was able to say before the fae was gone, leaving him alone in the middle of the forest with nothing but warmth under his skin, and his once flowerless spot decorated with purple heathers and hyacinths.

Seokmin tried so hard not to think that he was in love.

“Did something happen?” Chan tilted his head to the side as he fixed him a steady gaze, the euphoria he felt after he felt a flower crown being placed on top of his head still lingering even after walking around the community for an hour, lips almost raw from chewing on them, an attempt to stop himself from grinning too much, unfazed at the fae’s sudden escape because he could feel his presence wherever he went, his calming and sweet energy still grazing his skin as if seeking for clemency, “Why do you smell so sweet?”

He blamed that on the patch of melons he said he had to tend for Vernon’s parents, making sure to actually pay them a visit before dinner to do a little bit of work in their lands just in case Chan started asking questions, giving in and smiling to himself when no one was looking, ducking his head down to hide his visible elation when an almost ambrosial gust of wind danced around him, drying the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and keeping him company until nightfall.

“Are you feeling better now, Seokmin?” he heard Seungcheol’s father ask, his mother inviting the older Chois over for dinner because they had been whining about how quiet their house was with their son’s absence, the three adults smiling in relief when he answered with a timid, “Yes,” eagerly participating with their conversation to try and ignore the growing urge inside him to go out and spend the night in the woods, reminding himself that there were beasts lurking and hunting for prey when the moon was at its highest.

“Tomorrow,” he mumbled to himself, staring at his ceiling with a beam on his face, foolishly wondering if the fae was listening, “Tomorrow,” he echoed back into nothingness, wrapping himself with a blanket in an attempt to mimic the warmth he felt the whole afternoon, “Tomorrow,” he breathed out, his consciousness slipping as sleep overtook and lulled him into a dreamless state, “Tomorrow,” he would’ve heard, the wind of late night spring bidding him good night with a promise of a flourishing day.

Roses welcomed him the next afternoon when he ambled up on his spot with his growing art supplies, the heathers and hyacinths that graced the clearing the day after gone and replaced with the brightest yellows and purest whites, the smell of the fresh blossoms soothing his racing heart- Seokmin wasn’t nervous nor afraid, but he had spent all morning fidgeting while he did all his chores, reading the book that the community scholar had assigned him in distracted haze, and then getting berated by the elders when he ate his meal in haste, dodging all his friends in lieu of sneaking back to his home and then towards the forest.

“Hello,” he mumbled to no one in particular, his heart slightly sinking down to his stomach when he didn’t see the fae playing with the fawns, settling down on the grass and leaning back on the rough trunk of the cypress tree that shielded him from the rays of the sun when they get harsh during midday as he admired the flowers surrounding his area in awe, smiling when a group of butterflies started playing around him, wee ladybugs marching up long stems of roses.

It was magical, almost breathtaking, and there was a special kind of gaiety the came with witnessing such display, a part of him wishing, even when he was aware that the fae was watching him, that he could show himself and admire Mother Nature’s beauty with him, and it was truly surreal how, in just one blink, he was looking right at the fae that danced circles around his heart, sitting on top of a tree stump just meters away from him, glowing like he was the sun itself, buzzing with energy and life and magic, and Seokmin, Seokmin was completely enamored.

“Hello,” he heard him say although his peach-stained mouth didn’t move, unblinking as they continued staring each other like two felines sizing each other up, the sound of the stream quiet, and the world around them still- it felt like a dream, Seokmin thought, swallowing hard while the fae traced him with his eyes as if he was searching for something, squinting at him with a frown marring his soft features, “Crown,” he said, raising hand and pointing on top of his own head, ducking his head slightly to show the dainty garland he donned, “Where?”

“Oh,” he breathed out, cheeks burning when he found himself patting his hair, completely forgetting about the flower crown the other had given him the day before, profusely apologizing while explaining he left it in his room, afraid to accidentally break it as he worked, his ramblings cut short when he felt a warm sensation on his cheeks, like two gentle hands cupping his face and comforting his nerves, “I’m sorry,” he whispered in the air.

“Draw?” the fae maundered through the wind, gracing him a shy smile when he nodded, twirling into nothingness only to return a second after with a bunch of daffodils inside his arms, settling back on his tree stump and hummed, weaving veins and pliant stems to form a crown, decorating the garland with flowers he brought.

“What do you want me to draw?” he asked, completely lax as the birds around them sung, the earth that engulfed them moving along the breeze of the late afternoon, smiling when the fae raised his head and met his gaze, two warm and soft umber eyes sparkling beneath the auroral June sky.

“Pretty,” the fae whispered, finally blinking before going back to his task, the silence that fell upon them companionable and comforting, the beam on his face never leaving as he watched the other work, choosing to draw the prettiest being he had ever seen, sketching with a goal to please the son of Spring- he was still no artist even after months of illustrating but he found everything easier, eyebrows drawn together as he did his best to capture the beauty in front of him on paper, graphite gliding smoothly on his canvas, paint bringing everything to life almost instantly.

Time moved as if an hour was a minute, and in one coo of the doves and a spatter of dew, the brilliance of the afternoon had dimmed as if he was looking at the world through onyx crystals, his neck sore and his back aching as he stored his materials away, holding his work in an arm’s distance to compare his illustration to the magnificence watching him, heart hopping madly when the fae glided to sit closer to him, legs tucked beneath milky flesh and flowing silk, his eyes gleaming brilliantly as if the deities had stored the stars in them.

It was the first of June and Seokmin hadn’t experienced spring that beautiful, his vision almost too hazy with unshed tears as he watched the other scoot closer to him. Being in close proximity of the fae felt like waking up for the very first time and breathing in the freshest air on top of a valley, every inhale he took had wildflowers growing in the deepest part of his lungs- sweet and intoxicating like the kiwi and pineapple ade the elders would infuse with spirit, his heart skipping when the fae moved with calculated grace, raising the flower crown he made unto him and placing it with such gentleness on top of his head.

Seokmin was captivated.

“This is yours,” he drawled out after a moment of overwhelming serenity, moving as slow and as cautious as he could to not scare the fae who had coral glowing underneath his almost translucent skin, the shine in his eyes still flickering like the universe he had only known through books, his skin bristling with something he couldn’t put his fingers on as he handed his work to the other.

“Mine?” the fae wondered out loud, the flush on his ivory skin blooming in the most violent crimson Seokmin had ever seen, disappearing right before his eyes with his illustration and leaving him with the warmth he was craving the night before, the beam on his lips remaining intact through his slumber and the laborious chores he had the next day.

“Name?” the fae asked that afternoon, golden lilies almost drowning the greens of the earth as hedgehogs played around them, both of them donning freshly-plucked and newly-made crowns made of the blooms that graced his spot.

“Seokmin,” he answered with mirth, his smile wide and anew as he heard the other muttering his name through the breeze weaving through the leaves, filling up the dead air between the song of the sparrows gliding in the expanse of the vivid sky, repeating it over and over again like a chorus sung to honor their deities, “How about you? Do you have a name?”

Bellflowers sprouted from the empty spaces of the lush greens and yellows that surrounded them as the fae nodded eagerly, the tinge of red on his skin noticeable and had his chest bursting in warmth fondness, “Jisoo,” he heard him say, perking up on his tree stump as he looked back at him expectantly, the beam he kept small and shy, widening when he echoed his name back unto the wind.

“Jisoo,” he said, the foreign name rolling off of his tongue smoothly, more and more flowers sprouting from the ground in their proximity with every “Jisoo,” he breathed out, the world around them halting for a second as the fae spun and appeared just inches away from him- honeydew, Jisoo smelled of honeydew, saccharine and syrupy, his scent laying heavy on his tongue and his chest like the strong taste of lavender tea lingering in his mouth in the summer, “Jisoo.”

“Friends?” Jisoo asked, the air around them turning pleasantly warm as the fae leaned closer to him, their faces only centimeters away- Seokmin would have thought that he was dreaming if not for way his heart raced frantically in his chest, the slight ache of its crazed beating an assurance that he was awake and that everything was real, the fae waiting patiently for his answer.

“Friends,” he nodded, his world almost stopping when Jisoo lunged at him with open arms, going through him and leaving him once again with a sensation akin to a hug and butterflies in his stomach.

Tire-tracks were present on the path he would usually take to get to the woods when he finally decided to go back home, muddied and mostly unkempt, it was a way that the community members would use during the quietest part of the night to not disturb the sleeping neighborhood- making a mental note to ask the elders about them, he forged on with high spirits, plucking berries from lush bushes that started bearing fruits at the daybreak of June.

“Have you seen old Choi?” he asked Chan when he spotted him hanging out with one of his cousins by the pond near Vernon’s home, both them crouching with tadpoles swimming by their feet.

“I haven’t seen him since the morning rounds,” Chan answered, craning his neck up to look at him with squinted eyes, “Were you tending melons ag-”

“I saw old Choi with men in black cloaks!” Chan’s cousin chirped, and Seokmin tried his hardest not to laugh at the whistles coming out of his mouth in every pause, the gap between his front teeth making him sound like a kettle left to boil away in the kitchen, “They came in fancy carriages and scary horses!”

“Probably traders from other districts?” he raised an eyebrow at Chan, chuckling when the youngest Lee shook his head frantically, claiming that they didn’t bring nor take any goods from the community, hopping away from the pond when he saw a bullfrog a few meters away, “What do you think, Chan?”

“Ah, we’ll just get berated if they hear us speculating,” Chan grimaced, standing up and stepping away from the pond to collect his sandals from the ground, fixing him with another curious look, “Did Minghao give you perfume when he last visited?” he asked, walking closer towards him to sniff the air around his body, “Why do you always smell like- like-”

“Like spring?” he supplied, hopeful for a second and then ecstatic the next, delighted when Chan clicked his tongue and nodded his head.

“You should tell Minghao to bring me one too,” his younger friend mumbled, scratching the back of his neck as red dusted his cheeks, “There’s a girl I like and- never mind, forget I said anything.”

“I’m telling your parents,” he laughed loudly as he was shoved to the side, clutching his satchel of art supplies tightly before reiterating and bumping the younger boy with his body, making the other lose his balance and fall on the shallow pond, his clothes soaked and his sneer mean.

“Run,” Chan said before chasing after him through the plaza and through the community, their laughter boisterous and merry, reminding Seokmin of the approaching summer- sweltering and sweet in way that was different from spring, comparable to none other than the hot and sticky maple his mother would slather on rye bread when the end of June came- he wondered then if the son of Spring would still be around, when the air was humid and when the cicadas were orchestrating the choir in the forest, would Jisoo still be there enjoying the blistering sun in the bridge?

A part of Seokmin didn’t want to know.

“I envy how long your legs are,” he heard Chan panting as the younger caught up to him, the sound of dinner bells echoing through the whole community, “Do you reckon I’d still grow in the coming years?” his friend asked, hooking an arm through him and dragging him out of the bustling crowd of workers ready to go home, the smell of artichokes and roast wafting in the air and the lingering presence of Jisoo like the moon following his steps momentarily waving his worries away.

For the first half of June, the mornings had become rather soft in Seokmin’s eyes, the smell of spring intense but pleasant wherever he go, the afternoons gentler and the evenings cozier- spring had given him another reason to favor it over other seasons, and he was truly grateful for the friendship he somehow managed to build with its son through arts, flower crowns and conversations whispered through candied winds.

But springtime, even with how slow the sun traveled across the sky and towards its home behind mounds of glorious mountains, was still slipping away from his grasp, buds of foxgloves and poppies dotting the fields, and fledglings squawking for their mothers, impatient and eager to learn how to fly, indications of the coming summer, signs of his favorite season fading to the golden gleam of longer days.

It was the sixteenth of June when his mother had given him a basket of navel orange to bring in the forest, his mood glum and almost sour as the winds began to smell too much of budding lavenders, the scent of melons and grass already faint and almost hard to distinguish as he walked along the grubby path he always took to get to the woods, his frown curling up to a smile when he saw Jisoo already weaving a crown on his tree stump, perking up slightly as he turned to his direction- spring was in front of him.

Delicate azaleas bloomed wherever he looked, carefully making his way on his spot by the cypress tree with a chuckle as Jisoo flew with the wind to sit by him, tilting his head to the side like a curious fawn, “Basket?” he heard the fae ask, smiling down at him while he settled comfortably on the patch of grass where no flower sprouted, “Orange?”

“Yes,” he replied, placing the small basket of fruit between them, his beam wide as he watched the fae glow in delight, “Do you eat, Jisoo?” he queried, wondering why he was just then asking him that, half of him regretting he hadn’t bring him stews and pies his mother always made when he saw him answer with a quiet, “Yes,” and a nod.

“Orange,” the fae blinked at him, long eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, “Like.”

“Let me open one for you then,” he said, warm air enveloping his body in gratitude, tonguing his cheek as he peeled an orange neatly, the smell of citrus pleasantly blending with the floral scent dancing around the woods- spring was strong in the proximity of its son, and Seokmin almost wished he could stay by him until his last day on Earth, stopping himself because he was aware how the other could hear his wishes, cheeks burning as he sectioned the fruit with ease, perfectly coming apart in his hands.

“How?” Jisoo asked in awe, and Seokmin shouldn’t have found his reaction adorable but there he was anyway, laughing lightly just to hide the way his heart flipped in his chest, the puzzled look on the fae’s face illuminated by the sun already preparing to set.

“It’s a skill,” he breathed out with as much gaiety he could muster, waving away memories of scorching summer spent with friends in the cool creek, peeling oranges and lemons for his peers because he was the only one with the patience to pare the fruits without making a mess, his melancholia melting like the snow in the meadows on the last day of winter when Jisoo’s energy played with the tendrils of his hair, glittering umber eyes watching him with softness he couldn’t describe.

“Do you want to try peeling one?” he blinked, focusing in the present in front of him instead of what was coming, the joy of spending the remaining hours of spring pulling the corners of his mouth in a timid beam.

“Yes,” Jisoo nodded eagerly, buzzing in excitement as he held out his palms- swallowing hard, Seokmin tentatively picked up the plumpest fruit on his pile, a huge part of him envious of the orange that didn’t went through the fae’s hands, recalling the countless of times the son of Spring hugged him beneath the faint Venus only for him to completely pass through him, planting seedlings of spring flowers in his veins instead, leaving the smell of honeydew lingering on his skin.

“Can I ask you a question?” he maundered out loud, an overwhelming sense of fondness filling his chest when Jisoo looked up at him with big doe eyes swimming with curiosity, tongue peeking out of his coral lips as he halted his actions, one thumb buried deep inside his orange, juice already dripping from the punctured flesh, unto his skin and down the idle grass.

“Yes,” Jisoo answered with an air of assurance, once again turning the jagged edges of his thoughts into something curvier and soft, “Okay.”

“How come you can touch everything but me?” he exhaled, the question plaguing his mind before surrendering to sleep joining the lazy chorus of the sparrows who had just gone back to their nests, the faint sound of the grasshoppers beckoning for summer to come pausing in time for Jisoo’s energy to falter for a second.

“Human,” the fae pointed at him with a dainty finger, orange juice marring his skin in the prettiest way- somewhere at the back of his mind, someone wished he could wipe it away with his own, both he and Jisoo blinking at each other with flustered cheeks before the other whispered another word, “Danger.”

Seokmin’s stomach dropped at that, fully aware of how humans could destroy Mother Nature and its children if they truly wanted to, the news of other communities expanding to make room for modern advancements hurting him more than it should, the smell of forests burning from distant lands giving him nightmares filled with nothing but destruction and sinister smoke- the world was not his to own, but he knew, even when he was just a toddler playing with the rabbits in his grandparents’ fields, it was his to protect.

“Do you think I’m dangerous?” he wondered out loud, his body instantly wrapped with some sort of buzzing energy that felt too much like the first wind of spring, sprouts of lilacs blooming all over him in the palest shade of pink, his cheeks warmed by something that smelled strongly of citrus.

“No,” Jisoo cooed through his ear, and Seokmin really wished he could hug him right then, his vision blurry as the fae scooted closer with a promise of “Soon,” coating his heart in a comforting embrace, the sound of the woods welcoming the evening settling over them as the fae scrunched his nose when he raised his orange, mangled and torn, “Can’t.”

“I’ll do it for you,” he mumbled, taking the fruit from the fae’s hands and replacing it with the one he had prepared earlier, watching the other eat the citrus with the prettiest hue of coral glowing from his skin, the energy that had surrounded his body turning warmer- Seokmin hoped Jisoo would never have to learn how to peel oranges anymore, his breath hitching when the fae turned to him with a solemn smile, palm open as he asked, “More?”

“Of course.”

The moon was almost at its highest when Seokmin decided to gather his things and start his short trek towards the community, the howls of the beasts lurking in the woods a sign that it was time to retreat and bid adieu to the fae that turned quiet in the night, sparkling splendidly underneath the light of the blinking stars above- he didn’t want to go, he knew the other was aware, silently cradling his body with flickering energy that he could only compare to the feeling of being reassured, the tears falling pathetically down his cheeks wiped away with the last breeze of spring.

“Tomorrow?” he muttered under his breath, asking just in case spring decided to stay for a little while, ignoring the humidity in the air to hold on to the remaining dew of the season, his heart breaking a little when Jisoo shook his head, whispering, “Spring,” and then giving him the warmest hug, going through him and disappearing in the night, the flower crown he received hanging heavy on top of his head.

It was summer and the world looked like it was drenched with gold, the hills had grown even more lush with vibrant greens and plump fruits, and everywhere Seokmin looked, Mother Nature breathed with so much life, butterflies dancing with the bumblebees hopping from blooms to blooms, the blue sky decorated with pure white clouds that looked like cottons in full bloom, the fledglings that hatched in spring flying overhead and mapping their home with their parents watching.

The first week of the new season was good and yet Seokmin had found it hard to enjoy the blessings the deities had given the people, the gray looming over his head growing darker and heavier the more the sun bathed him in its light, his hands, always holding on to the flowers of spring that he had pressed on tattered books about the universe, his fingers stained with charcoal and palms tinted with paint, his stack of artwork growing as he illustrated Jisoo in between chores and meals, scared he would forget the slopes and edges of his body, the way his body moved, the twinkle in his eyes.

It was Seungcheol who had first approached him with the aim of asking what was going on, cornering him by the largest oak tree by the field of lavenders he had grown to loathe, lips quivering as his older friend waited patiently for him to speak, the humid air buzzing with the loud chirping of grasshoppers causing beads of sweat to form on his brows and his back, his skin sticky and his muscles sore.

“You’re going to make fun of me,” he breathed out when it seemed that the other man wasn’t going to let him go without an answer, hesitating for another second when he heard his friend promise that he won’t, swallowing hard before admitting that the son of spring had held his heart and his mind hostage, taking away the smell of honeydews and his will to see another day bloom, “I don’t know what to do.”

“What else could you do but wait?” Seungcheol asked without an ounce of humor in his voice, sighing deeply before pulling him down to the grown to sit, the dense leaves of the oak they were leaning on providing some shade from the intense rays of the afternoon sun, “You fell for someone who you weren’t suppose to, did you think it’d be easy?”

“How do you do it?” he asked, blinking the grief from his eyes when Seungcheol’s face morphed into something akin to shock, the corners of his mouth curling in a small smile, “I didn’t understand what you meant last winter but when I met Jisoo,” he breathed out, “I figured you fell for a child of Winter.”

“For the record,” Seungcheol huffed as he laid on his back, grass blades caressing his skin daintily, “He fell for me first,” he heard him say smugly, the brilliance of the summer afternoon dimming as faint cobalt and crimson danced across the sky, the older one telling him the ironic story of how a winter fae melted the frost encasing his heart with a voice that he could only compare to the voices of angels they always read about, “Jeonghan,” the other whispered in the wind, a brittle cold momentarily touching his skin, “He taught me of loyalty and patience.”

Seokmin was twenty-one, and for once, he understood what the other was trying to say.

“Do you miss him?” he wondered out loud still, his heart clenching in way that had him gritting his teeth, the last remnant of spring in his lungs completely replaced by the vibrant smell of summer, of dewy grass and fresh linens, of guava and watermelons, of honeysuckles and sweet peas- the world was beautiful in the summer, he bitterly admitted, a huge part of him still longing for his favorite season to come back and grace him with its cool and floral breeze.

“Always,” Seungcheol answered with a sigh, lifting himself up from the ground as he looked at the fields in front of them, his voice distant for a moment, “But moping around is of no use, Seokmin,” he continued, turning to give him a pointed gaze, brown eyes glimmering in the still dark, “Time won’t go any faster whether you spent it in agony or not.”

Misery was a choice, that was what he got from his talk with his friend, both of them ambling back to their abodes with the bright light of the moon guiding them through rocky paths, their conversation ranging from the faes that made homes inside their hearts to the summer festival the community always held in the middle of the hot season, his mouth already watering with just the thought of drinking sour lemonade throughout the event.

“Are you going to be alright now?” Seungcheol asked as they reached his house, the older one lingering just behind him, waiting with concern marring his features, “Our friends are growing more anxious, and last I heard, Chan said he was going to get you a toad to cheer you up.”

“A toad?” he blinked, grinning when Seungcheol nodded, “Is it cute?”

July came with a vow of even hotter days and cooler nights, the sunflowers in full bloom as the sun graced Mother Nature with its golden rays- intense and at times scorching, but still appreciated nonetheless, granting the people longer daylight to frolic through the meadows and swim in the creeks after working, and helping crops and flowers to grow in abundances- even with sunburn and the constant sheen of sweat on his skin, Seokmin found himself watching the world that surrounded him with newfound gratitude, occasionally ambling back to the stone bridge where he first saw Jisoo, planting saplings of oranges in hopes of them growing just in time for his return.

“This festival sucks,” Chan said as they watched the elders dance around the plaza with white fluttery robes and an array of cosmos and hydrangeas weaved through their locks, swaying with wide beams on their mouths as the children played a tune on their flutes and harps, “I can’t believe I was excited for months over this.”

“Don’t let the elders hear you,” Minghao warned lightheartedly, sipping on his iced lemonade before handing his cup to Jun who was busy gushing over Seokmin’s toad who had a necklace made of carefully sewn baby’s breath around its neck, “Besides, this isn’t the highlight of the festival,” he grinned, sending a wink in Seungcheol’s way before raising an eyebrow at their youngest friend, “You’re of legal age now, aren’t you?”

“He just turned eighteen a week ago, Minghao,” he hissed, doing his very best to hide his laughter at the growing curiosity on the other’s face, purposefully donning the most scandalized look he could muster before mumbling, “Surely, he won’t be allowed to do it.”

“What?” he heard Chan over the scattered laughter of his friends, Jun’s interest as well, chuckling when Wonwoo and Vernon joined the circle and started goading on Chan, going back and forth between letting him do it or not, adamant on ignoring the youngest one as they discussed vague details about the highlight of the festival, “I’ll do it! Just tell me what to do and I swear I’ll do it.”

“Meet us at old Jiyeon’s cliff before the sun sets,” Seungcheol muttered under his breath, the group dispersing and walking their separate ways even before Chan could ask anymore questions, leaving the youngest one gaping on his own as the elders danced around him.

“What are you all talking about, Seokmin?” Jun asked when he returned his toad on his shoulder, giving it one final pat on top of its head, beaming widely when he was rewarded with a low croak, “Is it some sort of coming of age ritual Chan has to do to be considered a man?”

“Something like that,” he breathed, choosing to leave his question unanswered for the sake of giving the man something to look forward to by the end of the day, admitting to himself that besides the open banquet at the plaza come high noon, there really wasn’t too many exciting affairs going on around the community, the younger ones only in high spirits because it was a day of eating, drinking and rest.

A light drizzle had sprayed upon their lands after the people had been sated, the elders wishing each and everyone of them a life filled with gaiety before thanking Mother Nature and Her deities for blessing them with a great myriad of bounty no matter what the season was, Seokmin’s heart aching just a little bit as he whispered his own prayer, thanking Her for entrusting him to meet one of Spring’s son.

The festivities continued despite the punishing rays of the sun, the children were running around with toothy grins and melodious laugh while the adults drank fermented malt, the elders keeping watch with huge beams on their mouths- stories were traded, secrets were shared, and watching from afar with his own drink in hand, Seokmin couldn’t be any happier, a part of him wondering if Jisoo would’ve enjoyed the intimate gathering if he was there with him.

Spring, he thought, should be celebrated too.

“Are you ready?” he heard Seungcheol say as the sun kissed the horizon, the shades of dusk saturated to their brightest and most intense hues- gone were the pale cerulean and fuchsia that tinted the sky of spring, in the middle of August, burning crimson and electric cobalt dyed the expanse of the heavens, shrouding the world with shadowy filters, playing with the milky light of the moon and the stars, perfectly highlighting the daunting look on Chan’s features, “You have to jump in the count of thr-”

“Are you crazy?” Chan shrieked in horror, chest heaving as he hugged himself tight- Seokmin should feel bad for him, he really should but the look of panic in the younger one was too funny that he had allowed himself to double over in amusement, his laughter, together with his friends’ echoing with the cicadas chirping in the forest, “I will die if I jump off of this cliff.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Wonwoo jeered, slinging an arm around the younger’s shoulder before steering him closer to the edge, all of them crowding the two as they watched the glittering water below, lazily dancing with the faint breeze of the coming evening, “We’ve all done it before.”

It was true.

And Seokmin wouldn’t participate in forcing Chan to jump if he didn’t experience the same thing, his pride too high and his ego too big to back down, jumping without any hesitations, only ever realizing he didn’t know how to swim when he was already falling, plunging deep in the warm waters of summer before being hauled up by Seungcheol who berated him for not telling the group he didn’t know how to swim, their watery pants shifting to rowdy laughter- his friends spending the rest of the hot season teaching him how paddle without inhaling water.

“What happens if I don’t do it?” Chan wondered shakily, his knuckles white as he clung to Wonwoo’s clothes, the smug lilt to his voice that morning completely gone, adding to the overall hilarity of the situation, “We’ll still be friends, rig-”

“We’re wasting daylight, folks!” they heard someone yell, the group turning around to see Jun in just his undergarments, his grin big and wide, his eyes burning with something akin to determination, a rival to the blazing sun watching them with keen interest, “To August!” he screamed before running towards them in full speed, grabbing Chan by the waist before jumping off the cliff with Wonwoo in the younger’s grasp- their shouts ringing through the woods, waking the resting sparrows in the trees and startling the cicadas witnessing their antics.

“I’m a man!” Chan had yelled when the three finally caught their breath, Seokmin’s laughter cut short when he felt a couple of arms around his body, Minghao and Seungcheol smiling deviously as they brought him with them down the cliff, the forty-meter drop sucking the air out of his lungs while Vernon followed suit, the sound of hoots and yelps keeping the night young, and his heart at ease- his smile lasting through the end of torrid August, the cold month of September kissing summer in the cheek in solemn adieu.

The lush greens of the earth seemed to turn bright orange overnight, the autumn’s wind calm and still as it slowly shrouded Mother Nature with a veil of cold like it was mourning the loss of the grand dog days, giving the people a slight taste of the foreboding winter waiting by the horizon- the smell of watermelons and zinnias replaced with the faint scent of haunting decay as September took away the beryls of the fields and offered the people petunias and salvias as consolation.

Seokmin hadn’t forgotten Jisoo even when the short days of autumn deemed him unable to visit his spot when the sun still offered the world its light, the cold evenings of October only allowing him a short period of time to tidy the clearing, the sight of the fae’s tree stump urging him to stay late one night, sketching the mushrooms growing around it as second generation of fireflies lit up the woods- his heart, longing quietly for the soothing energy that the fae always wrapped him with.

The smell of burning wood hung heavy in the air come the last week of autumn, his vision bleary as he rubbed away the sleep that remained in his eyes, the sound of yelling completely taking him out of his lethargic state and sending him stumbling out of bed and unto the chilly wake of daybreak.

“Fire!” he heard the elders scream, instructing the capable men and women of the community towards the direction of the land that the Chois owned, the vibrant hues of oranges and reds lighting up the dawn that still bathed in darkness, thick ebony smoke billowing all over the place, “Take the animals, and keep the children far away! Wake up your neighbors and ta-”

Seokmin ran as fast as he could, chest heaving while the fire before him grew and grew, the heat from the field intense and almost unbearable, smoke filling his lungs.

“Where’s Seungcheol?” he yelled through the chaos when he saw Chan by the nearest lake, the two of them helping fill up a cart with water before hauling it towards the blazing land, the adults around them doing the same thing, reminding each other to be careful in every passing.

“I haven’t seen him since I got here,” Chan answered between coughs, blinking away his tears as they both endured the heat and the smoke, handing over their cart to an elder and then taking an empty one to refill, “My father’s looking for the older Chois- no one has,” the younger exhaled out, “No one has heard from them since Vernon’s father saw the fire.”

“Alright,” he swallowed hard, dismissing away the dark thoughts looming at the back of his mind to focus on the task at hand, the ache in his chest and the sting in his eyes momentarily forgotten as adrenaline rushed through his veins, huffing and grunting with every move, convincing Chan to return to the safer part of the community when the colors on his face drained out, the roaring fire contained and tamed just before the sun had reached its peak, completely wiping away the fields of blooms the Choi family had cultivated for decades.

The morning was motionless as the world was shrouded with a concentrated mist of bleak poignancy, ashes danced with the breeze of morning autumn that could not be stopped like leaves doing pirouettes in spring with the same heat felt in midsummer, falling on the barren lands like the first snow of winter.

Seokmin could only stare at the aftermath in silence, swallowing down the lump in his throat when Chan had found him in the weary crowd of people, clinging to his side with tear tracks on his skin and crimson in his eyes, both of them holding each other for what felt like a day, staring at the lands where they learned all that they knew about agriculture- there was silence, and then there was sounds of frantic shouts and wailing, Chan’s father appearing from the farthest part of the land with a couple of people pulling a cart, Seungcheol trailing behind with burns marring his arms, parts of his clothes singed, and his features a picture of tragedy.

Autumn had sucked the life of all the leaves that surrounded the earth, and then it took away the remaining warmth of its people.

“Home is our only grave,” he remembered one of the older Chois saying, his heart clenching as he watched Seungcheol’s legs giving out, his knees touching the sweltering remains of what used to be a blanket of greens and purples, a sense of overwhelming pain rushing through him because there was a particular kind of grief that came with witnessing your own parents lifeless, and Seokmin could understand that more than anyone else watching Seungcheol hold unto the cart that held the older Chois, the winds of late autumn howling with the anguish cries of his friend.

Seokmin wished he never detested the lavenders during summer.

November came in silence, and floated away with sullen contempt as he spent the remaining days of autumn beside Seungcheol who had made a home inside his room, his friend wasting the cold evenings away by crying silently on the crook of his neck, cheeks sunken and eyes swimming with sorrow, only ever cracking a smile when frost had stated appearing on window panes.

“Come with me,” Seungcheol had said to him on the second week of December, donning on his coat before zipping him up with something that was much more padded, fishing an earmuff from their pile of shared clothes and then wrapping a scarf around his neck, wondering loudly why he had to wear so many layers when winter had just started, “He’s here.”

December had always been bewitching all on its own in Seokmin’s eyes, it was a whole month celebrating the end, and a whole month of longing for the year to restart, giving the people an opportunity to be kinder and softer for the coming days, and enveloping Mother Nature in the coldest embrace, wrapping the expanse of her body with gleaming snow so She could rest- Winter was enchanting, and looking directly at one of its sons made the season look so much brighter despite the brittle cold.

Jeonghan was a fae with alabaster skin, his hair platinum and long, braided on one side with wisps of tendrils dancing just in front of her twinkling cobalt eyes- he was beautiful, lithe and a little bit unholy, the air around him pure with a tinge of cruelty that Seokmin could only associate with the harshest blizzards, his features dainty with a shadow of avarice and treachery.

The son of Winter was the complete opposite of the son of Spring, and yet the moment his eyes met Seungcheol’s gaze, all the cold malice seeping from the energy that surrounded him had gone bearable and soft, gliding across the woods with a divine smile on his cherry-tinted mouth.

Seokmin didn’t know why he was there, a part of him inclined to look away as the winter fae held Seungcheol close, wrapping his friend with some kind of glow that almost felt like burning and freezing all at the same time, his hums of assurances echoing through the gray branches of cypress trees and mahoganies.

It’s alright, the winds howled.

My brave boy, the crossbills sang.

My brave and strong boy, the winter fae lauded.

December slithered away without much merriment as snowstorms upon snowstorms tormented the world like a punishment from a scorned widow, the elders encouraging the people of the community to stay inside their homes, remember the souls they lost that year, thank the deities of their blessings, and wish Mother Nature the most peaceful slumber- Seokmin had prayed for a much longer winter despite the blinding longing he had for his spring, his heart almost at peace as he watched Seungcheol’s cheeks growing plumper through January, the smile on his lips finally reaching his eyes even before February brought violas in their meadows.

Jeonghan was good for his friend, and Seokmin could endure a lifetime of yearning if it meant helping Seungcheol heal, but as merciless and as unkind it may seem, the world wouldn’t stop for no one- snow would melt, and hails of ice would subside, the earth would continue turning even when its people didn’t want it to, and Mother Nature would stir, breathe in new life in replace of what were lost.

“Would you hold it against me,” he heard the winter fae whisper as the last week of March rolled out, sprouts of green peeking out from the thinning blanket of snow, finding himself accompanied by the other man on his early morning patrol,“If I admit that I deliberately make my snowstorms harsh because I hate your kind?” he shivered, breathing in deeply as he paused, the smell of clove and pine needles faint in the air, “Humans are greedy and humans are selfish. They take and they take, and they hurt other humans if they can’t have something they want.”

Danger, as Jisoo once said, a sense of self-loathing filling his chest because he was aware of what the fae was saying, could feel the it in the shifting winds, could see it in the growing districts that surrounded them, gunk and oil visible in the oceans, dark smoke evident in the ozone- Seokmin wished they could change, the hair at the back of his neck standing as he raised his head, Jeonghan’s glare piercing.

“Change,” the fae sneered, the ground where he stood turning icy as he seethed, “Humans burned the lavender field, and humans killed the family of my beloved,” the wind around them bellowed, his heart dropping down to his stomach at the information, the other man’s anger cold and intense, his own vision tinted crimson with rage, “Change is a myth much more unbelievable than me, and if it weren’t for Seungcheol, I would’ve froze the world and bear Mother Nature’s punishment if it meant weeding the world of scums.”

“What?” he choked out, blinking back up at the son of Winter whose body trembled, the animosity in his cobalt eyes intense and profound, and all Seokmin wanted to do was find the people that caused the parents of his friend demise, enmity boiling in the deepest part of his being, fury blooming in his chest- Seokmin wished to see them dead, the air encasing his body suddenly turning warm, the ice on the ground melting as slivers of sunlight danced around the forest.

“I have heard of you Lee Seokmin,” Jeonghan’s voice echoed in his mind, the resentment in his bloodstream lifted up and replaced with something that had his body lax, “And I doubt you’d be the kind of person that could abandon your humanity by killing your own.”

Jeonghan was looking at him then with the same kind of softness he would don when looking at Seungcheol, the energy around them flickering for a second before the fae was hugging him tight, “Seungcheol will travel with me to the North as he couldn’t bear to stay at the land where his parents perished,” he muttered, reassuring him that he didn’t need to worry anymore, cool fingers threading through his hair as he felt his body shake, letting out a sob that the fae drowned with the sound of songbirds, “The children of the seasons will try to look out for you and your people, and Seungcheol and I shall return before the first snow hits the ground.”

Seokmin didn’t know why he was weeping but he allowed himself to cry, counting the beat of his own heart and stopping at two hundred and twenty-two when Jeonghan told him to be safe before the remnants of winter faded right before his eyes, rendering him unwell for the rest of March, the flutter of doves outside his abode opening up his heart, making him run towards the waiting arms of the young springtide.

April was kind, and April was softhearted, whisking him out of his bed and wrapping him up with its magical winds, reassuring him with the faintest scent of sweet grass it perfumed the world with, the promise of new beginnings visible with the silk petals dotting every pathways and roads, and with the budding leaves from branches that held nothing but frost for the longest of time- Mother Nature was vibrant once again, and Seokmin felt his insides blooming in time with the daffodils sprouting on every nooks of Her being.

“If I were to skip my chores this morning,” he drawled out, a spoonful of porridge halfway from his mouth, “How mad would you be?” he asked, holding his breath as he kept his eyes trained on his mother who had a knowing look on her face, lips curled in the smallest of smiles.

“Do you want to welcome spring in the woods?” she queried, an eyebrow raised, And there really was no reason to lie so he nodded, his heart skipping a beat when his mother said he could go, “Although you’ll have more workload tomorrow, would that be alright with you?”

“Yes,” he nodded enthusiastically, scarfing down his breakfast and grabbing his worn out satchel of art supplies from his room with a pep on his step, hugging his mother on his way out and planting a kiss on her cheek, “I’ll get you flowers, I promise!”

“Just return home safely, child- that would be enough,” she chuckled, pushing him out of their home and unto the flourishing fields of blues and greens, his smile wide as he trekked towards his spot, greeting members of the community who woke up as early as him, his path illuminated by the peeking sun from the horizon.

Spring had come, and it was advancing through the woods, Seokmin’s heart hopping in gaiety as he surveyed his surroundings- the forest was alive and breathing, violets opening right in front of his eyes as leaves unfolded on thick branches of cypress and dark oaks, the stream beneath the stone bridge where he first saw Jisoo gleaming brilliantly like it had caught every single stars that fell on earth and kept it, the forest was alive and so was he, breathing in the saccharine winds of the coming spring as he ambled towards the bridge, choosing to head over there to check on the orange sapling he planted when he missed the fae the most, waiting patiently for his return.

Light danced around him as he sat on the edge of the bridge, legs dangling in the air while he took out a sheet of paper, his charcoal gliding smoothly on his blank canvas with the complete intent of capturing the budding forest right before his eyes, the symphony of the sparrows and the low hums of the bumblebees blending in with the song of the winds, pouring honey on the world and stretching a minute into an hour, the butterflies residing in him flying in chaos when he smelled the familiar scent of honeydew in the air, breath hitching as he felt arms wrapping around his shoulders and limbs on his torso, his chest filled with warmth and overwhelming yearning.

Roses grew and bloomed on the vast expanse of the forest, does and fawns emerging from behind wide trunks of towering trees with little hedgehogs running between their legs, the tune of April beautiful and loud, and Seokmin couldn’t help but close his eyes and cry, his tears kissed away by the warm winds of the fae even before they could cascade down his cheeks- it was spring, and its son was finally with him, embracing him from behind with his smooth arms and lithe legs, nuzzling on his neck and wrapping him in his energy and his body.

“Hello,” Jisoo whispered breezily through his ear, holding him close and tight, and Seokmin could do nothing but lean gently on his touch, shakily saying hello with a beam on his mouth- wishing that the fae couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating, the embers under his cheeks stoked when he felt a gentle hand on his chest, “I like it,” he heard him say, blinking up at the sky as elation rushed through his veins, “Means you’re alive.”

Seokmin had so many questions, had so many things to say but it was the first day of spring, and the season was young, his curiosity could be quenched some other time, his sentiments could be heard in the coming days- right then, the only that mattered to him was Jisoo’s return, and the existence of life around him, and so he drew as more roses blossomed and decorated the earth, sketching away as the sun peaked above the world, painted with all the colors of the season as the fae clung to him.

The day faded slowly as the hues of dusk tinted the sky, the chorus of the cicadas growing harsher and louder as the sun started its descent behind the far hills, his mind filled with something heavy while he walked back to the community, the son of Spring gliding just beside him, adamant on staying with him as long as he could, the back of their hands brushing, “I missed you,” he mouthed, turning towards the fae who had halted after his sentiments rolled out in the open, a crown of wide gardenias appearing on top of his head.

“I missed you,” Jisoo echoed back, dark crimson tinting the column of his neck and the apples of his cheeks, the energy that the fae cloaked him with reverberating with some sort of magic he could only compare to the feeling euphoria, “I missed you,” he repeated, gliding towards him with grace before embracing him once again, disappearing even before he could wrap his arms around him, “I missed you.”

Seokmin’s first week of spring was spent mostly under the sun, working in the fields and running around the community to finish chores his mother and some of the elders asked him to do, the smell of honeydew lingering wherever he went, and the calming sensation of Jisoo’s arms around his body like a brand on his skin, warm and tingling, and if he closed his eyes, it felt as if the fae was with him, holding unto his body like warm honey.

“You can touch me now,” he maundered out loud one Sunday, his eyes trained on the clouds flitting across the azure sky, the grass beneath him cool and moist as Jisoo curled beside him, his head tucked just under his chin, “Does that mean you’re not afraid of me anymore?”

“I wasn’t afraid,” Jisoo answered with a tremble in his voice, and even with the amount of time they spent together last spring, Seokmin knew that the fae had feared the likes of him in the past, touching his body with energy and winds instead of his hands, keeping a short distance as a precaution and in all honesty, he understood his fears, waving away his urge to touch the fae because he didn’t want to scare him away, enjoying the feeling of being held despite the almost blinding desire bubbling in his chest to hold the son of Spring- he wished he could touch him too.

“You could,” the winds sung through his ears, his face burning when he looked down at Jisoo who had his head raised, watching him back with crimson dusting his cheeks, “You could,” the breeze repeated with an eager lilt, rendering him frozen as he held the other man’s gaze- completely charmed and mesmerized, “You could.”

“Alright,” he breathed out, raising one trembling hand as Jisoo scooted closer to him, placing his head back on his chest, nuzzling over his frantic heart- he found himself talking about the summer festival as he slowly threaded his fingers through the fae’s flowing locks, a smile playing on his mouth as he felt the other shiver with his touch, the forest around them humming contently while he continued combing his hair, still rambling on about his friends while he placed is other hand on Jisoo’s back, gently drawing patterns of tulips on the silk covering his skin, the afternoon sun covering them both with golden light as they fell into slumber, holding each other close.

The deities were happy, his mother had said when he came home that evening, patting his cheek while she whispered, “You must be too,” their home warmed by the strawberries reducing on their stove.

Spring was at hand, and everything was in bloom- blossom by blossom, the season graced the earth, once barren and cold with jade fescues and clusters of dandelions, proving yet again that May was a month of rebirth, and starting over, sprouts of greens peeping even on the land that was owned by the Chois, untouched by humans and nurtured by Mother Nature herself.

“He’s alright,” Jisoo breathed out on the first day of May when the air smelled of rock candy, the void in his heart slowly mending with every stroke of the fae’s hand on his back, blinking away his tears as he tilted his head to look at his companion, glittering beneath the setting sun.

“How do you know that?” he asked, swallowing down a sob in an attempt to calm his racing mind, sighing heavily when the fae beside him disappeared for a second, eyes closed when he felt him draping himself over him, whispering sweet nothings on his skin, one hand resting on his heart.

“The wind listens,” Jisoo said, his tone assuring, appeasing his apprehension and covering his consciousness with an enchanting buzz, anchoring his thoughts in the present and preventing it from flying too far, “The wind listens,” he mumbled again, his lips brushing the shell of his ear, “The wind listens.”

Seokmin believed him because he was aware that Seungcheol was strong, and he believed him because he knew Jisoo cared.

“You speak a lot now,” he found himself saying, closing his eyes when Jisoo wrapped him in an embrace from behind, evening out his breath as the fae propped his chin on his shoulder, their cheeks touching, “Who taught you?”

“The winds,” the fae answered, the leaves giving them shade rustling with pride, “The people,” he continued, nuzzling his cheeks against his, “The animals,” he giggled lightly, the sound of his glee making Seokmin’s heart grow fonder, “For you.”

For him.

The community’s lands were graced with overflowing abundance that spring, putting the people in high spirits despite having to work overtime in the fields, thanking Mother Nature for providing them food and shelter, and singing merrily about how good her deities were- everyone was happy, and everyone was praising spring like the season was their child, working hard to care for the lands and forests and their animals.

“Would it be too much to ask the elders for a spring festival?” he maundered out loud as he helped his mother prepare supper, going back home earlier than usual because Jisoo wished to see where he lived, the fae remaining glued to his side while he chopped bell peppers, munching quietly on the oranges he peeled for him that afternoon- completely invisible in the eyes of other people.

“A spring festival?” his mother hummed, watching him with wonder by their kitchen table, patiently waiting for him to finish the garden salad he insisted on doing, “Why do you suddenly have this idea?”

He paused for a second, smiling down at the fae beside him who was leaning on his shoulder, eyes bright and filled with curiosity as he looked around, the scent of honeydew and oranges pleasantly mixing with the cold air of mid-spring, “I just think it’ll be nice to celebrate spring and give thanks to Mother Nature just like we do during summer,” he explained, oddly nervous because as much as he wanted a festival to honor his favorite season, the larger part of why he wanted a festival was because of Jisoo, determined to have the fae experience the festival he liked hearing about so much.

“I’ll talk to the elders about it,” she promised, beaming at him with a spark of mischief in her eyes, a beat of silence passing between them, “Is there something you aren’t telling me?” she asked, her voice drenched with palpable curiosity, and in front of his mother with the son of Spring idly snacking on his side, he suddenly felt seen, vulnerable, “Son, are you in love?”

Summer came in the middle of spring, and it incinerated his insides vehemently.

“What?” he chuckled in amusement, pointedly ignoring Jisoo’s gaze because he was aware the fae could easily sense the shift in his mood, forcing himself to stop thinking about how close they were standing, his heart already thumping frantically, “I’m not- what are you talking about?”

“You tell me,” his mother snickered, dropping the subject almost instantly as she told him to chop their vegetables quicker, the fire inside him burning through his skin when Jisoo tilted his head up at him, and whispering, “In love?”

Seokmin was only twenty-two that spring, and even when there were a lot of things he didn’t know about, there was only one question floating in his mind the moment Jisoo bid him adieu and retreated back to his forest that night, how to love an immortal when his own time on earth was limited?

You don’t, was what his brain kept on saying.

But Seokmin was careless and illogical, and he had to find out how.

The Spring Jubilee was announced the next morning by the elders just before everyone had to go to work, their beams wide and their happiness infectious as they went about their day with the new spring celebration in their minds, expressing their excitement and elation by coming up with ideas to make it more fun, doing their best to involve the youth and have them participate- there would be a flower dance, as suggested by Chan and there would be the usual seasonal feast by high noon, games was going to be played all afternoon, and everyone would gather by old Jiyeon’s cliff to watch the sun set.

Seokmin thought it was going to be beautiful.

And Jisoo thought so too, counting down the days leading up to the festival, the fae had been visibly ecstatic, covering the forest floor with tall blades of grass and fragrant zinnias, and blessing their lands with a myriad of produce, his elation hanging heavily in the air- floral and sweet, and Seokmin, as he ran around the expanse of their community’s property to accompany the son of Spring with his endeavors, was utterly enraptured.

“Are you sure?” Jisoo asked him as they both looked at the orange saplings he planted before, crouching with his their heads tilted to the side with contemplative looks on their faces- they were not looking good if he was being honest, surrounded with lush vegetation courtesy of the fae’s great mood, his plants looked like they were just a day before completely perishing, “I can help.”

“I’m sure,” he mumbled despite having little to no faith about their survival, making a mental note to visit one of the elders for tips on growing orange trees, determined to care and grow for them without any divine intervention, “They look really good to me,” he continued, wincing when a gust of wind blew, one of the seedlings lying limply on the ground- he whispered a quick prayer to the older Chois, asking for forgiveness because he had completely forgotten the basics on tree planting.

“I can help,” Jisoo repeated, scooting beside him and resting his head on his shoulder, “I can help,” the winds whispered, the sparkling stream behind them offering the same sentiment, “I can help.”

“But I want to grow them myself,” he breathed out, wrapping an arm around the fae as he pulled both of them on the ground, pins and needles spreading from his toes up to his legs, a pout forming on his mouth when he felt frustration bubbling in his chest.

“Why?” Jisoo wondered softly, and looking down at the fae, Seokmin couldn’t really stop himself from saying the truth, transfixed and almost as if he was in a daze as he held the other’s gleaming gaze; sun-filled leaves drifted among the butterflies in his stomach, lilies storming his brain as while he answered, “For you,” daffodils sprouted in his lungs, the taste of honeydew filled his mouth, “I want to grow them for you.”

“For me,” the fae whispered, the two words bouncing off of trees and rustling between clusters of leaves, the forest humming with a soft tune with the sparrows flying around them, “For me,” the son of Spring repeated, blinking as if he couldn’t comprehend what he had just heard, frozen for a second before tulips started sprouting all around them, his milky skin dyed with the softest hue of pink, “For me.”

Seokmin went home that night with a huge grin on his mouth, somewhat smug as he recalled just how flustered Jisoo was, disappearing right in front of his eyes and returning to give him a swift hug and a small, “Thank you,” before melting with the night, his smell strong on his skin, his presence heavy and lingering while he made his way home, his embrace still warm even when he awoke the next morning.

He was in trouble, that was for sure.

But he really wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Forget summer festivals,” he heard Chan laugh as he twirled him around the plaza, the smell of apricots and pineapples wafting through the air while they danced to an upbeat song from the community’s band, a complete opposite of the mellow hymn of summer that the elders loved swaying to, “Spring Jubilee is far better!”

“It’s the alcohol, Chan,” he chuckled, dismissing his comment despite agreeing in lieu of not offending the deities of summer, pointing out just how the adults were too happy for the season therefore too lax on giving out spirited drinks so early in the morning, “Promise me you won’t drink anymore.”

“But it’s June!” the younger exclaimed, circling him with some kind of move he hadn’t seen before, his skin already flushed and his steps already too clumsy, “It’s spring and I’m young and everything is beautiful!” he enthused, grinning at him with stars waltzing in his eyes, “I’m free and wild and so, s-”

“Intoxicated,” someone supplied, both of them turning towards the source of the voice, immediately flinging themselves unto the waiting arms of Choi Seungcheol, chuckling as he caught both of them, the faint smell of winter present on his body, “Does this mean you missed me?”

June was good to everyone, that much was true, his chest warmed by the sound of the older man’s laughter as he answered every question that spilled out of Chan’s mouth, the three of them resting under the dark oak overlooking the Choi’s land, away from dancing crowd of the community with glasses of apricot juice on their hands.

There was something different about him, Seokmin thought, and he really didn’t know if it was good or not, a part of him trying hard not to eye the scars marring his arms, and another part of him curious, wondering how they got them, maybe even ask if Jeonghan had been keeping an eye out for him as he promised, his train of thoughts halting when he felt Jisoo’s presence somewhere, his energy warm on his cheeks- beckoning.

“Oh, I completely forgot,” Seungcheol blinked at him with a knowing look, cutting off Chan’s animated story about his encounter with a wolf one night, “Your mother was looking for you,” the older man maundered out loud, the smile on his face more sly than sheepish- Seokmin could only stare back at him, wondering if he sensed the son of Spring too or if his mother really was seeking him out, “Go, Seokmin,” he waved away, telling him he’d keep Chan company before giving him a wink.

Jisoo was not on his tree stump when Seokmin reached the forest despite the warmth shrouding his body, the smell of sweet honeydew filling his senses as he looked around- the songs of the swallows were particularly soft that morning, the woods breathing with so much life, different arrays of flowers bursting in multicolored magnificence, the ground beneath him moist and covered with the greenest fescues and vernal, the world was beautiful and he didn’t understood why, upon spotting the son of Spring dancing by himself by the bridge, he still found his heart stuttering.

Jisoo was made of dreams, and he was not supposed to exist yet there he was, glittering like an illusion under the faint spring sun, twirling with the bees and the fawns with a blinding smile that rivaled the radiance of the universe- it was spring and the wind was cool with the smell of loam and the fragrance of young blossoms, the woods were lovely, dark and deep, and the world was shining in all its glory, and watching the fae giggle and spin among the treasures of Mother Nature, it felt as if spring was Jisoo, and Seokmin wished the other would steal him away.

The forest stood still for a brief moment when their gazes locked, chest heaving when Jisoo’s smile reached his eyes and the heavens, the energy around them humming with some sort of electrifying buzz, singing the tips of his fingers and burying deep beneath his skin and unto his bloodstream, making his heart thump against his rib cage, lungs deprived of oxygen as he held his breath- Seokmin was enraptured, there was no denying in that anymore, his legs moving on their own accord and grasping the fae’s outstretched hands, the two of them swaying to the beat of nature’s drum.

All sensation absent, only magic lingered in the air- eternal magic as they held each other close seeping from the fae’s glistening skin, and infinite devotion pouring out of his own mouth.

“Want to wish,” Jisoo whispered with the humming wind, his cheek warm on the crook of his neck, and his body pliant and soft against his, “Want to wish,” he breathed out, slender fingers combing through his locks, “Want to wish,” he repeated again and again.

“Go on then,” he mouthed unto the world, his arms tight around the slender body of the fae, determined to make his wish come true, hell bent on granting his desires to make him smile.

“To stay here,” the fae responded with ease, the lilt in his voice blending pleasantly with the tune of the mid-spring choir, “Want to stay,” he mumbled, nuzzling closer to him, “Stay here,” he maundered out, the smell of honeydew and roses surrounding the woods, whispering a quiet, “Where?” before Jisoo was staring up at him, “Inside your arms.”

Jisoo was iridescent, and Seokmin could not look away.

“Do you like me that much, Jisoo?” he teased, chuckling in an attempt to wave away the butterflies fluttering inside his stomach, ignoring the way the world around them halted as they looked at each other, the band of birds and cicadas turning quiet like they were holding their breath, waiting for the fae’s answer.

“I do,” Jisoo answered with an air of wonder, the mischief in the wind’s lilt almost overwhelming and extremely palpable, sucking out the air from his lungs and rendering him speechless for a moment, “I like you,” the fae mumbled through the cluster of leaves above them, his eyes shining with something different and new, his energy bordering hot.

“The wind talks,” the son of Spring continued, humming with the same kind of marvel he emitted the night when his mother asked if he was in love- Jisoo was testing him, taunting even, and he could not, for the love of gods, pull away, “They said,” he heard him whisper, “I’m Seokmin’s boy.”

Spring exploded in his chest right then, his skin on fire despite the cool weather, head reeling as he found himself gaping, recalling how his friends and their parents referred to the stranger in the stone bridge as his boy, his embarrassment erased by Jisoo’s warm hands grazing his cheeks, and his senses gratified with a thousand scents of delight,

In any other circumstances, Seokmin would’ve stammered out an excuse, maybe even denied what the fae was saying but he knew that the wind always listened, and the wind was always right, lying was of no use, and lying would do nothing but erase the decadent crimson underneath the fae’s ivory skin, and despite being no artist like Jun and Minghao, it didn’t took an artisan to say that Jisoo was most beautiful with pinks and reds glowing dusting the expanse of his body.

“And you liked that, didn’t you?” he tilted his head to the side, his heart thrashing frantically inside his spring-filled chest as he did his best to hold his ground and keep his gaze unwavering, the corner of his mouth lifting up in a smirk, smug at how he could feel the fae trembling inside his arms, the sly confidence radiating off of him a second ago dwindling down to nothing but a soft buzz of apprehension, flaming red traveling from his neck up to the tips of his ears, “You wish to stay by my side and be my boy?”

Roses sprouted from the empty spaces of the forest ground as silence grew between them, a part of him wanted to take back what he had just said, laugh and say that he was only saying those things for a laugh but a larger part of him wanted to wait for a response, submerge himself on the unknown ocean that was his feelings, allow himself to explore territories he hadn’t thought of delving into before, and it was so stupid, he knew it was dangerous to fall for someone that was not the same kind as him but Jisoo was kind and beautiful, and he was full of joy and life- Jisoo owned him the moment their eyes locked mid-spring.

“Yes,” he heard Jisoo mutter from a distance, and really, if Seokmin wasn’t paying attention, he would’ve missed it but he was, his attention always on the fae- light rain started pouring even before he could say something in return, the trees around them getting greener as the flowers turned brighter, Seokmin was in love, the intensity of his happiness almost causing fear to bubble inside of him, the forest floor was solid and he was grateful for that, comforted by the fact that he had fallen, and could no longer fall farther.

Seokmin was there, and Jisoo was with him- it was spring, and he would remember that day until Mother Nature reclaimed his soul and turned his flesh and bones into dust.

“I like you too,” he confessed in the end, his smile wide as the fae furiously blushed, pulling him towards the ongoing Spring Jubilee where they both spend the whole day together, Seokmin’s chest blooming with fresh tulips as Jisoo stayed cuddled by his side, humming quietly to himself while he talked with his friends, and joined his community’s merriment- Seungcheol’s knowing look pulling his beam wider.

Spring felt almost short as Seokmin watched Jisoo leaping in amusement with his toad by the stream, the sun on his back already too torrid and warm, the smell of faint daffodils drowned by the budding lavenders by the Chois’ land- summer was nearing, and he had to bid farewell to his fae once again, his chest clenching in some sort of unbearable pain despite knowing that their separation was inevitable, already dreading the days and nights he’d spent alone in the forest.

A part of him wished he could go with Jisoo to the North where the snow had started melting as irises sprouted from the ground, his breath hitching when Jisoo looked up from where he was crouching, a disapproving look etched on his face, “Dangerous,” a gust of wind murmured, the temperature around them dropping as the rays of the sun gave his skin one final caress, his pleasantly warmed by the palms of Jisoo who had perched his toad on his tree stump before holding him close, “Men hurt men,” he heard him breathe out, his words stinging more than it should, “You’re safe here.”

In spite of living farther away from growing districts, news about multiple wars had reached them through trading, stories of acres upon acres of fields that once grew crops turned to factories, mountains being flattened, and small communities being driven out of their abodes by those who had power had become as common as inquiries about the weather as the smell of burning forests grew heavier every month, and the foreboding destruction, much like the passing of seasons, seemed imminent no matter what.

They were safe, that much was true, but looking at Seungcheol’s downcast face before he left to be his winter again, Seokmin didn’t know what to think.

“And you?” he asked Jisoo when the sky bled black and the moon started to shine, “Would you be safe?”

“Silly human,” was what the fae said, a sentiment that was supposed to assure that no mortal could hurt someone like him, an answer that was supposed to make him smile and relax but staring closely at the son of Spring, the cloud of worry dimming the brilliance of his eyes did nothing but squeeze his throat tight, only ever swallowing down his apprehension in lieu of spending the last night of spring in high spirits, his chest hollow upon waking up in the forest alone with orange peels littered around where he laid, the ghost of Jisoo’s kiss lingering on his cheek.

It was summer and Seokmin was miserable for a reason that was not about his bleeding heart, the yearning that had overwhelmed him during the first week of summer simmering down to something softer and less sad, talking to the wind like it was Jisoo because he knew the other was listening, often blushing whenever he admitted that he missed him, quite too much, quite too often, complaining at how the sun had burnt his skin- July was humid, and July was moving too slow for his liking, and because of that, he found himself almost always irritable when he was not under a cooling shade.

The July sun, as beautiful and magnificent it was with its golden amber rays and brilliance, was both a friend and a fiend to anyone and anything underneath it, providing nourishment on the sunflowers the Chwes’ garden, plumping up the cucumbers and tomatoes hanging unto vines at the Jeons’ land, and fattening the wild berries dotting the bushes flourishing on every corner of their community, the early summer already proving to be another season of abundance, a great feat that was worth celebrating but with the odd rising of temperature enveloping the world, it was hard not to wish for autumn and winter to come.

“Maybe what you need is a lover,” Chan snickered as they laze around under his mother’s fragrant apple tree, snacking on wedges of mandarins and watermelons with his toad eyeing the mosquitoes whizzing in between the water lilies floating at a pond near them- Seokmin, already in a foul mood, gave the younger one nothing but an annoyed huff.

“Think about it!” his friend exclaimed with mirth, his tone as lively and as vibrant like the taste of citrus filling his mouth- youth, he shook his head, recalling just how excited he had been for summer when he was his age, pointedly ignoring the nonsense spilling from his mouth, “Minghao is the most uptight person we know but the moment he found himself a man, he’d gone soft!”

Seokmin didn’t know how summer could be worst but it did, and he really did wish autumn could start wrapping the him and his world with its chilly embrace because then he wouldn’t have listened to Chan and his crazy, and rather inappropriate stories about what lovers did under their bed sheets.

“Old Jiyeon talked about it a lot!” Chan enthused, completely unabashed as he cackled through the afternoon, “She said that making love towards your partner relieves stress and promotes happiness,” the younger one continued with an innocent and wide beam on his mouth, “Of course, I wouldn’t do it yet because I’ve never found the love of my life yet but you,” he heard him guffaw, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, “You’ve got your eyes on someone and it’s time that you act on in!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed in disinterest, cheeks flushed as images of Jisoo flashed right before his eyes, dancing around zinnias and napping on his side, the sense of longing he felt when spring left resurfacing almost instantly, rendering him silent once more.

“Oh come on,” Chan scoffed with humor, biting on his watermelon and spitting its seeds down the hole he dug on the ground, “I won’t pry and ask who it was that you’ve been seeing in the woods but,” his friend halted, wagging his eyebrows in a way that seemed suggestive, “You’ve been frustrated about the weather, haven’t you? Why not ask them to help you relieve some tension, eh?”

Summer wasn’t always Seokmin’s favorite season but it was that year, he learned how to loathe it- beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he gritted his teeth, fire licking his insides and scorching even his glistening skin- under the faint moonlight seeping from his curtains, he was almost hidden from the world, his mind whirring with the thought of Jisoo’s gentle fingers and smooth palm, the hand he had wrapped around his cock the complete opposite and yet he felt as if he was in heaven, completely at the fae’s mercy as he stroked himself, grunting quietly with his eyes closed tight, breathing uneven and heartbeat in frenzy- he hated how summer had made him think about the son of Spring like that, and he hated himself for enjoying it too much, spilling on his hand with a burdened and satisfied cry.

Seokmin wondered if Jisoo had heard him, and Seokmin wondered if the red rose appearing beside him that morning was a sign that he took pleasure in it as much as he did.

The wind always listened, and there are time that the winds would obey a mortal’s wish- July and August flew by quickly like an ice cube left under the blistering sun, the humid in the air lifting as the cooler breeze of the wasting September took over and shrouded Mother Nature with a blanket of calming chill.

It was autumn and it was another season of decay and loss, the smell of moist and rotting wood evident in the air as news of another region getting assailed and burned to nothing but ashes filled every corner of their community with fright, the adults trading sentiments filled with worry as the younger ones stayed cooped inside their respective abodes, shaken and quite stunned because the war that everyone thought would never reach them was then can be seen at old Jiyeon’s cliff- separated by only a vast ocean, the wreckage left by pillager and people of power stared back at them with orange embers and billowing black smoke

“There is no reason to panic for the treacherous ocean is protecting us,” one of the elders said, his voice calm and his movements lax as he reached for a cup of steaming chamomile, the other elders surrounding him nodding in unison, assuring the terrified adults that requested for a meeting, “The people of Najeun had safely fled to another region, they are fed and sheltered.”

“The treacherous ocean you are speaking of is just a body of water even our shabbiest boat could sail on,” he heard his mother point out, earning a collective agreement from all over the room, and Seokmin couldn’t help but nod along because she was right, “If we could travel in and out the community without any troubles, people who have better equipment could do too.”

“What would you propose to do then?” an elder said, his tone challenging and his features sour, “Leave our island and abandon decades of work our ancestors did because we could not trust that Mother Nature to protect us?” Seokmin chewed on his lips, catching Chan’s gaze who was sitting closely beside his father, “We’ve remained unharmed because we respect and work for our deities, and in return they blessed us with abundance and security- what else could we do but continue doing that?”

A part of Seokmin wanted to open his mouth and let the others know who had burned the Chois’ lands and who killed them, but a breeze of cold air had stopped him, his vision hazy as he turned to look at the still world outside, bright auburn leaves rustling with the evening winds, the stars blinking slyly at the deserted plaza that buzzed with excitement and festivities during the summer- the sons of the seasons, as Jeonghan promised to him, were going to protect them but as his thoughts drifted from the impending war to Jisoo’s serene face, he couldn’t help but open his mouth and voice out the words ringing inside his head.

“I want to protect Mother Nature as much as She’s protecting us,” he mumbled under his breath, swallowing hard as he turned towards the elders, his mother’s hand gripping his, her supportive smile urging him to continue speaking, “We should prepare to fight for when the time co-”

“You’re seeking violence as if it did not take your father’s last breath,” the elder muttered with a quiet animosity, his eyes stinging at the mention of the greatest tragedy of his life, heart clenching as he remembered waking up in the middle of autumn, he was six and he didn’t know any better, cheering his father on as he listened to him ramble about helping out a district fight of pillagers, walking away with confident stride, and then coming home lifeless in a cart- war existed for as long as he knew, and war was looming over them like a gray cloud in the summer season, “Have you lost your mind, child?”

“I’m not going to sit here and do nothing,” he hissed with disdain, his heart beat racing and his blood boiling, “My father fought to protect a whole region and he succeed-”

“Yeuktae stood while your father died, Seokm-”

“And I would do the same thing!” he bellowed with a slam on the table, his breathing ragged and his cheeks wet, “I will fight and I will gladly die if it meant saving our people,” he heaved, taking a deep breath as he felt a familiar warmth caressing his damp skin- the winds were listening, and the winds were answering, the smell of honeydew faint in the air, and the scent of winter hung heavy in the room, inspiriting him determination, “I refuse to watch the world burn around us and do nothing.”

In the end of autumn, the elders dismissed his request to build an armory and use their manpower and resources for his plan to make weapons and train those that who could fight to defend their land- the adults dropped the subject and the children returned on the streets, giggling and running around as the remaining smoke from Najeun disappeared, his spirits only ever being lifted when Chan met him in the woods on the last week of November, handing him an iron sword he begged for Minghao and Jun to acquire with techniques and tips he learned from books in their library.

“It took a lot of convincing,” Chan chuckled as they walked back home, a grim look shrouding his features while he talked about how he pestered the artisans in their region, halting to look at the shining moon above them, “When the worst comes and we find ourselves getting attacked,” he heard him sigh, the tremble in his voice palpable, “Trust that I’ll be by your side no matter what.”

“You don’t have to,” he replied, moved by his friend’s bravery despite the fear in his eyes, “Flee with your family, and I’ll stand my ground- this is a losing battle, Chan,” he continued, pulling the younger one in a tight embrace, “You’re life is far too young to end here.”

“You’re no hero, Seokmin,” Chan pulled away with a laugh, the glimmer of mischief in his eyes returning as they continued their trek, “You need me and my brilliance if you want this land to have a fighting chance,” his friend maundered out loud, flexing his arms and saying, “Besides, I have the bigger muscles than the two of us, you’re better off with me punching the bad guys on their dumb faces.”

Autumn was waning, and so were the last remains of their hobbledehoy- childhood and youth nothing but a distant memory they could only reminisce about.

“It does not suit you to brandish such a sword,” Seokmin heard someone say from behind, his heart ramming on his chest as he whirled around, the smell of cinnamon and pine cones greeting him in good humor, “And it’s not just because of your harrowing form.”

“Jeonghan,” he breathed out, his iron weapon clanging loudly against the pebbles beneath him as he rushed forward to embrace his friend, skin prickling with cold before warmth seeped through him, sinking deeper inside the slender arms of the fae that held him with gentleness that was the opposite of the brewing snowstorm outside the cave he found miles from the stone bridge, a place that became his spot all throughout autumn, hidden from the eyes of many sans Chan who kept him company in most occasions, the two of them soaking in as much combat knowledge that they could through stolen books and manuscripts.

“Hello, Lee Seokmin,” Jeonghan mumbled in greeting, squeezing him tight before holding him in arm’s length, tracing his features with electric cobalt eyes, a faint smirk gracing his mouth- there was an occasion when Seokmin thought of the other as menacing, and maybe he was with his sharp nails. even sharper sneer, and his ability to cause carnage in his wake but getting to know him through short but meaningful exchanges, he had come to see the son of Winter as someone who would give the world to someone he cared enough for, his heart full knowing that his older friend would always be in good hands, “I’ve heard a lot while I was away. It seems to me that nothing is looking good for you and your people.”

“You’re right,” he mumbled in defeat, sighing heavily as Jeonghan released him from his tender grip in lieu of flying around the cave, glowing like a wingless angel gliding between stalactites, “It doesn’t help that the elders aren’t listening to me, I can’t even walk with a sword in plain sight because they threatened to send me off on the farther district for some sort of trade,” he heaved, frustrated and bitterly miffed, “And I can’t- you know I can’t leave.”

“They don’t listen to reason,” another voice echoed around the vast cave, the weight on his shoulders momentarily melting to nothingness as he turned around to the sight of Seungcheol, half of his hair tied in a neat bun and the other half drifting through the wind atop his shoulders, clad in nothing but cotton and corduroy despite the dropping temperature in the island- bulky and visibly strong, emitting such an intimidating aura that for a second, Seokmin hesitated to even come closer to him, “The vermin that calls himself The Great Agma is approaching and they would rather teach their men how to turn linen into loam instead of letting them hold a weapon.”

“The Great Agma?” he returned in question, smiling briefly when his friend gathered him in his arms, the son of Winter watching them closely from where he was sat, “Is he the reason Najeun burned to the ground?”

“Yes,” Seungcheol answered, his rage visible through the frown marring his face, “A man greedy enough to think that he could rule the world one region at a time,” he heard him continue with venom dripping in every words that stumbled out of his mouth, “He is arrogant and powerful, his arsenal is humongous because of the resources he had stolen, and his army continued to grow by the second.”

“He is succeeding because your kind is scared,” Jeonghan interjected as the wind outside howled with equal disdain, the temperature around them dropping in an alarming rate while the fae shook in fury, “You would rather kneel and kiss the ground The Great Agma walked on rather than risk your life for your home and your people,” the son of Winter whispered in antipathy, “Another person who breathes and needs sustenance just like any other person, that was what you had to nip but you had fed him with power long enough to turn him into a monster- cowards, that is what your kind is.”

“Not me,” Seungcheol breathed out, and in an instant, the wind had stopped wailing and the brittle cold returned to the amiable chill of early winter, and it was such a sight to see Jeonghan cooing unto the older man like a domesticated cat, chin perched on top of the other’s knees, one hand reaching out to cup his lover’s cheek.

“But not you,” Jeonghan reassured, his voice silky and his sentiment kind, “Certainly not you,” the fae continued, smiling brightly at Seungcheol whose downcast eyes illuminated with faint joy, nuzzling quietly on the other’s palm- they were a picture of love and veneration, and Seokmin could not help but wish for spring to come, cheeks heated when the winter fae raised a delicate eyebrow at him, his beam, sly and teasing.

The memory of hot and zesty summer had been completely obscured from everyone’s mind when January rolled in with its wintery breath, turning the ponds and the streams into ice, frosting the window panes and enveloping Mother Nature with thick blankets of snow- the first month of the year used to promise so much great things, and yet as Seokmin continued braving blizzards to learn a thing or two about combat with Seungcheol and Jeonghan in the cave they started calling as theirs, the sound of iron hitting iron echoing all throughout the night with the howls of the beasts lurking under the faint light of the clouded moon, all he could think about was The Great Agma and his battalion of destruction.

January felt like a the prologue to the end, and Seokmin had grown afraid of waking up and flipping the world’s pages as February greeted him with a bleak sense of crippling dread- he needed spring, he needed Jisoo.

“Seungcheol is different, isn’t he?” Jeonghan asked with a somber look on his face, the two of them finding themselves watching the ocean by old Jiyeon’s cliff as Seungcheol gathered supplies in the community for his trip, “The boy that left this island, and the man that returned are two separate people living in one body.”

“It’s a good different,” he replied as the numbing air of March seeped unto his coat and on his skin, recalling how much of a good teacher Seungcheol was, no part of him even remotely regretful that he swallowed most of his questions about his life, of where he learned to fight like a mad man, where he got his scars, and where he had been for the past months, choosing to soak in as much knowledge as he could from him, respecting his boundaries and acknowledging that they were no longer the rowdy boys rolling on mud every summer, nor the youngsters lazing about the community and talking about their dreams- Seungcheol was different, and so was he and their relationship, and the changes were good, the thought of maturing no longer making him his heart despondent.

“He’d been fighting any war that was against The Great Agma and I’ve always made sure that I was there to aid him,” Jeonghan muttered with the wind, his voice calm and his eyes twinkling with fondness and pride- his hatred for greedy and power-hungry people shining through his desire to cause havoc with his magic, “When they advance and make a move to take your lands, Seungcheol will be there,” he heard him say, turning ever so slightly so they were holding each other’s gazes, “But can you do something for me, Seokmin?”

“Anything,” he answered without hesitations, completely transfixed at the raw display of vulnerability right in front of him- Jeonghan, the brave son of Winter, was looking at him with glassy eyes and quivering lips, fear and worry tinting his features.

“Pray that they attack during winter,” Jeonghan whispered in quiet desperation, the chill in the air biting and grim, “My brothers, although they are powerful would be of no help in the battlefield,” the fae explained, the image of Jisoo flashing right before his eyes, delicate and soft, dainty and small, “Spring, Autumn and Summer- they give life and I’m the only one that could take it- if you want to hold unto your land and your people, pray that it’d be winter.”

The silence that followed Jeonghan’s plea was almost deafening, their bubble of tensed solitude broken by the sound of crows perched nearby, the black birds that had always signified bad luck watching them with a couple of beady eyes- curious, almost ominous, and Seokmin was sure that their fates was sealed, that no matter how hard he’d manifest and pray, it was destined for The Great Agma to continue what he started in the Chois’ lands.

“Can mortals hurt the sons of the seasons?” he asked darkness engulfed everything that was around them, the temperature of the ocean breeze dropping just in time with a howl from a lone wolf- quiet and weak, sounding as if frost had made a home inside his lungs and freezing him from the inside then out, his heart aching with the idea of death, and with the idea of Jisoo in pain.

“Are you worried about Jisoo?” Jeonghan asked, the jovial lilt in his voice returning as he nodded his head, sighing heavily before pulling him closer, “I no longer consider Seungcheol as a human because he had slain so much of your own- I see him as a warrior of Mother Nature, a cousin of the deities that would spill blood unto the earth to protect Her and this world and you,” the fae beckoned him forward, holding his hands gently, “I thought I know you, Lee Seokmin but you’d abandon your humanity like Seungcheol for Her and for your fae, don’t you?”

“I’m no coward, Jeonghan,” he maundered out loud, “If being a human meant standing back and watching my kind demolish the land that I grew in, then I no longer want to be one,” he continued, blinking away his tears as he remembered his father’s bravery, standing up for what was right, and protecting Her and those who were petrified in fear. “The Great Agma is not a deity or a god, he has no rights to claim the world that didn’t belong to his kind in the first place.”

“Little warrior boy,” Jeonghan chuckled as he pulled him in a crushing embrace, the squawks of the crows that left and flew over them drowned by the sound of the dying winter wind, “Sweet warrior boy,” the fae hummed on his skin, taking the apprehension and fears swimming in his bloodstream as he drifted farther and farther away, “Brave warrior boy, pray for winter.”

Seokmin’s thoughts about Jisoo were not exactly forbidden but if someone had split his head open and poured its contents unto the world, he wouldn’t be too thrilled about it because despite thinking about the son of Spring in situations that anyone would find lewd and obscene, his longing for him was something he considered borderline insane, filling him with so much grief that there were times that he only ever wanted to wake up just so he could spend the day thinking about him, frustrated as he trekked home from his cave because he missed Jisoo too much that even illustrating the fae was painful, his yearning rendering him immovable and at times distant- he hated that part of him, but he couldn’t really blame himself for taking some time to sort his thoughts out and miss Jisoo in silence and isolation.

Spring arrived in full force that Seokmin had no time to step back and admire its budding presence, his back pressed on the rough surface of the cave that sheltered him for months as he held Jisoo who had pushed and claimed his mouth the second he arrived, surprising him in the most bizarre yet exhilarating way possible- he was just as sweet as he smelled, and Seokmin felt slightly lightheaded when he tasted orange on the other’s tongue, inhaling the saccharine scent of spring on his skin as he pulled him closer and closer.

There was no doubt that Jisoo heard him through the winds, heard of the groans that left his mouth, heard the desires he only dared mouth at the quietest time of the night- his thoughts and his thirst was not for the fae to hear, but knowing that his feelings were returned, a sense of confidence and slight smugness had him moving in a much more calculated way, his hands snaking their way under the silk that the other man donned, caressing his skin with gentleness and great intent, making the fae squirm as they both pulled away to look at each other- panting and thoroughly enchanted by the other’s presence and passionate enthusiasm.

“You longed for me so much that the wind had became jealous of your devotion for me,” Jisoo muttered under his breath, his mouth a violent shade of red- glossy and plump like fresh cherries hanging on luscious trees, too pretty to ignore, too delectable to resist, “It was your fault, did you know?” the fae gasped when allowed himself to trail kisses along his jaw, letting the other man talk before giving in on his urge to explore his mouth again, interested in what he had to say, “You called for me so much that it was only you that filled my thoughts- you were so loud, Seokmin,” he heard him say, the sound of teasing palpable in his voice, “Do you like me that much?”

In a split second, their positions were reverse with Jisoo pinned on the wall, caged by his arms as he reclaimed his mouth, kissing him tenderly and nipping on his lips as he gripped the other’s hips, holding him in place and stopping him from rubbing himself on him- Seokmin was in cloud nine, a part of him wondering where Jisoo learned to move like that, the other part of him enjoying the whines vibrating off of the walls of the cave they where in, “I like you so much,” he muttered as he tore his lips away from his beloved, chuckling when the other chased him with a mewl, “I thought by now you’d already be aware.”

“You were moaning for most of the nights you called for me,” Jisoo replied with a smirk, the innocence and purity he radiated the first spring they met gone and replaced with something that was quite promiscuous and wanton- Seokmin had no right to complain, his heart racing in gaiety as he watched crimson bloom beneath the fae’s skin, “I didn’t quite catch if you said you liked me or not.”

Fescues grew on the ground that laid barren for as long as Seokmin had known, tall blades of grass tickling his skin as vibrant red roses bloomed wherever he looked- spring had transformed his lifeless cave in a field of emeralds and rubies, and if there was one thing he knew about the fae, it was that he couldn’t control his magic when he was flustered, aware that the air of confidence surrounding him was a fluke because at the very corner of the cave, he could see a cluster of white zinnias- under his buzzing energy, despite the changes that was happening throughout the year, Jisoo still retained his bashfulness, and Seokmin was thrilled to tint his skin as red as he could, make him grow zinnias in every inch of that cave, and make him moan as much as he did in is absence.

“You need to tell me to stop when it gets too much,” he whispered, crowding the fae further on the wall and taking his hands off of his hips, giving him the freedom to do whatever he wanted before almost immediately regretting his decision when he found himself on the ground, the son of Spring straddling him- eyes sparkling with mischief, and energy buzzing hotly against his skin.

“Do you know what I’d rather say when it gets too much?” Jisoo asked, shrugging off the silk he always donned over his body, revealing the milky skin of his chest and stomach- beautiful did not do the fae justice, and Seokmin was utterly enamored as the other man rocked his hips against him, “More.”

Growing up in a community wherein they praised Mother Nature and Her deities on the daily, Seokmin was no stranger to saying his graces to the gods and goddesses that continued to bless him and his people with great abundance, often praying to let them know how thankful he was, working hard to reap everything that was given to them, and then offering the best crops on their shrine, he knew what his duties are and what he must do to honor them, but being with Jisoo right then was different despite the urge to worship the son of Spring was strong, almost overwhelming him with that burning desire to let the other know just how dedicated he was for him, to let him know that he was at his beck and call, that his devotion was not just all talk- his adoration for him was intense, his veneration almost too carnal.

And Seokmin felt no need to hold back.

Flipping their position wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be, months of training with Seungcheol had certainly improved his strength and Jisoo, with his lithe body, was light and pliant under his calloused hands, mouth parted as a small surprised gasp rolled off his tongue, eyes clouded with something dangerous and dark- Seokmin was thoroughly enthralled, and felt no shame when he dove in and licked a stripe unto the column of the fae’s neck, one hand running up and down the smooth expanse of his body and the other gripping his hip, aiding the other man on his quest to rub his front on his while he let out breathy mewls, conjuring more and more roses on the ground, his hums of pleasure echoing all around them.

“Pretty,” was what he kept saying in between nips and kisses, taking his time to paint pinks and reds on the ivory canvas that was Jisoo’s body, blooms of crimson continuously bled through the fae’s skin as he peppered him with praises and selfish touches, letting him know just how beautiful he was, just how amazing and sweet, how exquisite and titillating, “You’re all I ever think about,” he confessed, getting rid of the silk that covered the rest of the fae’s body, and shamelessly marveling at the sight before him- perfectly ethereal, that was what Jisoo looked like, wishing that he had his graphite and paper with him so he could illustrate just how breathtaking the son of Spring was.

“You can draw me if that is what you desire,” Jisoo breathed out, looking up at him with such sensuous eyes that Seokmin could do nothing but stare for a moment, drink in his beauty, appreciate his curves and edges, watch the fae run his delicate fingers over his soft stomach up to his chest, circling on pink nubs with a sigh of pleasure, “What do you want, Lee Seokmin?”

“You,” he answered before his own clothes were shredded away, giving in and kissing Jisoo on the mouth as slender legs wrapped around him, breath hitching when their cocks had slid against each other, kissing the fae deeper and deeper while finger threaded through his locks, his own hands find their way on the other’s waist, gripping him tight until his lungs no longer had space for wildflowers, his mouth finding itself yet again latching unto the milky skin of his lover, trailing kisses along his jaw and then his neck, deliberately nipping his way on his awaiting nipple, completely enchanted at the sound the other had made.

Jisoo tasted like spring, bright and fresh, and Seokmin wanted to explore every inch of his entire being, kiss him on places where even the sunlight hadn’t come close, touch him on places that only his darkest thoughts would know- March came with the breeze of spring that swept him off his feet, filling every part of his body with blinding love and want, it was the season of change, the season of growth and rebirth, and in the crooks of its very own son, Seokmin had found his new religion.

Jisoo was a shrine he would gladly get on his knees for, confess all his sinful thoughts and burning love with ardor and great keenness- the son of Spring was divine and unreal, an entity that glimmered under the bright lights of the sky and squirmed languidly under his rough touch. He was a dream, and a nightmare altogether, a siren that danced and sung his way inside his mind and unto his heart, moaning every so gracefully as he took his cock in his mouth, his essence tasted of honey and everything good in the world, the sounds he was making rivaled the songs playing in the woods.

Spring was his favorite season and its son was someone that he was willing to die for, his dogma was his reverence for him and he would be his only creed. Jisoo had bewitched and ruined him with his delightful laughter and alluring voice, wrapped him in his energy that was warm and inviting, and Seokmin couldn’t resist, didn’t want to resist- the love that cultivated in him was terrifying and selfish, and as his fae shivered and called for him, he proved his faith by taking everything that was being given to him, swallowing and licking the thick saccharine essence that was Jisoo- his ambrosia.

Time in the cave seemed to freeze as Jisoo pulled him up for another searing kiss, his own desire shooting straight through his cock, licking his insides with his intense and burning desire, groaning as Jisoo sucked on his tongue, his essence still strong and lingering in his mouth- the whole ordeal seemed dirty and wrong but gods, Seokmin felt like he was in heaven as the fae shrouded his body with electrifying energy, buzzing and running through his veins with great intent, the son of Spring forcing him on his back while he toyed his mouth with his skilled tongue, smooth hands palming his heaving chest.

There was little to no talking as they continued pleasuring themselves against each other, the sound of the buzzing cicadas outside completely drowned by their shameless moans, Seokmin’s heart racing as butterflies flew wildly inside his chest, and for a moment, a sense of clarity ensnared his senses and rendered him dazed, bliss clouding his better judgment as questions started flooding his mind, of whether what he was feeling was real, of whether the fae really existed or was just a figment of his imagination.

And in an instant, he was being hauled out of his own thoughts and unto the present, ripped into being alive as Jisoo aligned himself on his cock, sinking in deeper and deeper, both of their breathing ragged while they held each other’s gazes- everything was real and he was a fool to ever doubt it even just for a second, his love for Jisoo was pain and at time suffering but gods, they were both existing and alive, and it was spectacular.

Jisoo had claimed him whole and there were no words to describe how good he felt around him, his body moving in its own accord as a blinding thrill ran up his spine, pulling the fae closer to him as he switched their positions, hiking the other man’s leg over his shoulder as he plunged deeper in him, soaking in the scalding energy radiating off of him and swallowing his moans, successfully finding a rhythm that had them both keening in pleasure- the fae was inexplicably tight, the walls inside him hot and sticky and had his cock throbbing in urgency, making him move faster and faster, plunging deeper and deeper, his thrusts were punishing and almost merciless, and Jisoo had gone red and so, so pretty.

Seokmin wished to do that over and over again, paint his skin crimson and glaze his eyes with nothing but lust- his desires immediately answered by cry of immeasurable delight, his feelings and sentiments returned almost tenfold as Jisoo drew him in, clenching around his cock and giving him the sweetest release- he came, and it was impossible then to say that he was not crazy for Jisoo, his boy, as his muddled brain whispered in haze, because he was utterly smitten and in love, and it really seemed, with the son of Spring inside his embrace, that his arms were his home, and he was welcoming Jisoo back where he belonged.

Inside the cave he claimed as his, over the cool fescues and in the blooming roses of the first evening of spring- he loved, Seokmin was twenty-three and Jisoo was his eternity.

The looming presence of the forthcoming strife seemed to evaporate in the company of spring, the tension hanging heavily in the air dissipating as the saccharine wind of April danced in between clusters of bursting greens while a plethora of bright tulips and buttercream daffodils dotted their fields that stretched for miles with the wild berries glimmering crimson and ebony- it was a month celebrating the wonders of life, and the chaos that surrounded the world seemed to still, the weight on Seokmin’s shoulders were gone as he stretched his body under the sapphire sky, his chest filled with love as his lungs held the prettiest roses of spring, his skin always peppered with fleeting kisses by its son.

“You found yourself a lover,” Chan maundered out loud one afternoon, making Jisoo perk up beside him, ears tinged with the brightest coral despite weeks of being all over each other whenever and wherever they could- Seokmin found his sheepishness delightful, hiding his own smile behind his cup of earl grey as the fae shifted through the wind, draping his lithe body over his back and wrapping his arms around his neck, obviously curious at what his friend was going to say, “See, it wasn’t even a question because I’m certain you did.”

“And how can you say this with confidence?” he asked, fighting the urge to nuzzle closer to the fae wrapped around him because for one, he didn’t want to freak his friend out and two, as much as he wanted to tell the world that he was in love and that yes, he was a taken man, he’d much rather love Jisoo in secret if it meant protecting him from the malice of his kind.

“You’re happier,” Chan said, and Seokmin couldn’t help but dwell in the sentiment he just heard, something inside him shifting as he stewed on what the other had said, “So, so much happier.”

It was true, he was happier and his heart had swelled so much as spring hung around him with its familiar honeydew scent, cradling him in the earliest morn until the darkest midnight, molding him keener and softer, veiling his eyes with something that had him romanticizing even the dewdrops glistening on lone leaves and the sweetness of strawberries in his mouth- a part of him abashed that there was a time that he didn’t understand what love was.

“It’s spring,” he answered with a beam, leaning slightly closer towards Jisoo who shrouded him in his warm energy, humming softly in his ear as a gust of cool breeze pushed past them, the smell of loam and rhubarb intense and yet so refreshing, “With spring, I am always happy.”

“Uh-huh,” Chan chuckled with mirth, shoving a spoonful of pie in his mouth before wagging his eyebrows at him, “Are they pretty, Seokmin?” he grinned, teasing, “You must let me meet them, I promise I’ll behave!”

“Probably not now,” he mumbled under his breath, noticing how the fae curled closer to him, almost shrinking on his back- Jisoo, despite not talking much about humans, still thought of his kind as dangerous, a shiver always running down his spine whenever he found himself talking about a friend or a family, standing closer and gripping him tighter whenever they walked around the plaza, the fear in his umber eyes evident and concerning, “But if you really must know,” he smiled, completely unabashed, “He’s the best thing that happened in my life.”

April ebbed and flowed like the lazy waves crashing unto the jagged rocks of old Jiyeon’s cliff- slow and dragging, and Seokmin didn’t want to spend spring in any other way as it felt like time was on his hands, his days spent mostly mapping Jisoo’s body and branding every inch of his skin with kisses, adamant on engraving the fae in his memory and inscribing himself on the other, completely transfixed on the reds and purples his mouth had caused, and entirely fascinated at how his lover managed to make him fall deeper and deeper.

The young moon of May was beaming down at them when Seokmin finally said he loved Jisoo out loud, his confession echoing through the woods as the leaves rustling with the evening breeze halted, the sound of the running streaming drowned by the overwhelming silence that followed his heavy sentiments- the world stopped, and so was the beat of his heart, his whole body almost frozen as he watched the fae stir from where he was laying on his chest, turning to him with wide eyes filled with surprise and something that his brain couldn’t quite comprehend.

“What did you say?” Jisoo whispered, his voice so, so quiet although it was the only thing that Seokmin could hear, the question bouncing around his head almost painfully- should he had not SAID something, he wondered mournfully, his chest tight and his throat constricted, “Lee Seokmin?”

“I said,” he breathed out, swallowing hard as he hauled himself up, the distance between them, even when it was mere inches, making his fears and worries double inside his heart. He could choose to dismiss what he had just said and avoid a potential falling out, but looking at the fae waiting patiently in front of him, he knew lying wouldn’t do any good because he was aware that the other man heard him clear, knew that he heard every single wishes he made in his mind whenever their lips were touching, “I love you,” he said, braved himself to repeat it again and again until the world was turning once more.

Spring was a season of life, and maybe even love as the forest floor erupted with thousands of pansies, Seokmin’s heart finally returning to life as he felt Jisoo’s searing energy vibrating on his skin, engulfed in his familiar warmth and tucked securely inside his arms.

“So this is what they call love,” he heard the fae hum with gaiety, wrapping his body with saccharine comfort, and nuzzling against his skin with dizzying fond, “I have only heard of it from my brothers,” the fae murmured as he was pulled closer, “I’d like to think you loved me very much since the beginning, Seokmin but I wasn’t sure because it was the most incredible thing I’ve seen and felt, and I didn’t know if love was supposed to burn like that.”

“Burn?” he asked, snaking his arms around the other’s torso as he buried his face on the crook of his neck, inhaling him in and awakening the butterflies in his stomach in the process- there were tears on his cheeks as he listened to Jisoo talk of how his love warmed and burned him, grateful that his feelings were welcomed, thrilled and earnestly enamored at how Jisoo, the boy who used to only speak one word at a time, was then spouting hundreds in the air, telling him about everything that he felt when he took care of him, when he fed him oranges, when he kissed him.

“I love you,” Jisoo beamed, mouthing the three words at him when he held him at arm’s length, “You must know that I love you too, Seokmin,” he repeated, and Seokmin could only nod in response, bewitched and ecstatic, enthralled and on the moon, his fingers itching to thread themselves through the fae’s ebony locks, his whole body aching to get closer- so he wished, goosebumps peppering his arms when his boy blinked at him and said, “Set me on fire.”

May was good and kind, it was caring and warm, honeysuckles scenting the wind and honeydew almost permanently adhered on every crevice of his being- thick and sweet, heady and nectarous, the very essence of his lover molded with his own.

May was good and so should June, but as Seokmin awoke from his slumber with an empty space on his bed, his chest had caved and the formidable sense of danger had him scrambling to his feet, the beat of his heart loud and the sound of his blood rushing even louder when he saw Jisoo was staring out his window with a tense look marring his face- he could sense it too, Seokmin could tell, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, his head spinning as his mother whistled naively around the kitchen, completely unaware of the threat hanging in the air.

There was an enigmatic and an almost unbearable tension that shrouded their island as a thick fog settled around the community, making everything hazy with ivory clouds that danced between oaks and mahoganies, delighting the children with its honeyed mist and how it turned everything blurry and soft and nice, but Seokmin knew better because he could feel how it made Jisoo restless, jumping at every noises the woods made, curling closer on his side whenever darkness swallowed the sun- the winds could talk, and winds were telling Jisoo something that the fae couldn’t word out.

The first week of June was aloof and tense- the son of Spring was distressed.

And the quiet that followed after was no better- the fog that enveloped their community growing thicker, and no longer smelled of honey, the children had stopped running around the plaza and the adults had started mouthing their concerns, unable to do their work in the fields and couldn’t hike high up hills and forests as they couldn’t barely make out what was in front of them- spring had always been a season of great jamboree and lax, but that spring was different, and Seokmin found himself gripping the hilt of his sword more and more.

The second week of June was eerie and quite mean- the son of Spring had left for the woods and had not returned for days.

And as the sun of the third week graced the fields and the plains with its golden light and marvelous glow, Seokmin wished he could have the malicious silence of June back as shouts of terror echoed around the community, scrambling to and from old Jiyeon’s cliff with frightened looks and tear-stained skins, “They’re here!” he could hear them yell, repeatedly crying in anguish while the same two words rolled off of their mouths and unto the still morning air- his shins was on fire as he found himself sprinting towards the crowded crag, breathing in air that felt like glass in his lungs and his sides, blood running cold when he finally managed to push himself to reach his destination.

His prayers were not returned as The Great Agma stared back at him with an ominous grin.

Large ships were heading towards their island in an alarming speed, small boats breaking though the fog and dotting the marvelous cyan of the sea with the most hideous blacks and browns, machines that produced heavy white smoke cloaking most of them with the same cloud that settled in their community weeks ago- the realization of their enemies surrounding them without their knowledge making his stomach sink.

“Seokmin!” he heard someone call out, chest heaving as he located Chan in the crowd- hair tousled, and eyes brimming with fear, the very picture of horror and panic, and Seokmin suddenly found breathing extra hard to do, “Seokmin, the elders are gone!”

Betrayal felt like a knife plunged deep down his back, stabbing him repeatedly while it punctured his lungs and tore his heart and rendered it mangled, rage bubbling in the pits of his stomach as he looked at the empty abodes of the elders, their presences and belongings gone- they knew, and they had left the community they vowed to care for in lieu of saving themselves.

“Tell the people to pack up and leave,” he muttered under his breath, swallowing down a sob and blinking back his tears in an attempt to get a hold of the situation- there was nothing else they could do but flee, get away before the pillagers could burn everything they owned, escape like what the people of Najeun did, avoid casualties and blood on their soil, “Load up the carts and leave!” he yelled through the chaos, “Bring only what is necessary and leave!”

Seokmin was no leader, and Seokmin was in no position to make any sort of decisions but right then, he felt obligated to step up and take control, barking out commands to the men that taught him most of what he knew in life, assuring the women that took care of him that everything will be alright, and cooing the children that he helped raise- his people, he vowed wordlessly, no people of his would lose their life that day.

“Stick with everyone, alright?” he mumbled in urgency, helping his mother haul her belongings in an awaiting cart as he chose to ignore the sting in his eyes and avoid her gaze, rambling on and on about taking care of her health and of the toad he shoved in the pocket of her apron- the ache in his chest spreading all over his body when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, tears silently cascading down his cheeks when he was gathered in a tight embrace.

“Would you obey me if I asked you to come with us?” she mumbled on his skin, the pain in her voice and the trembled in her hands breaking Seokmin’s heart more than it should- he couldn’t leave, she knew and she was aware of that, he refused to flee and abandon the lands he swore he’d protect, of all people, his mother understood that and yet, answering her with a no was one of the hardest things he had to do in his life, not for the fear of being alone and perishing, but because the possibility of his mother losing a son was high, and looking back on how she cried for his father when he returned as a corpse of a man she loved, the thought broke him.

“I’m sorry,” was the only words he could say then, wiping his tears away and giving her a bright smile as he grabbed Chan who was running frantically, “He’ll take care of you,” he breathed out, his beam watery and forced and painful, “Wouldn’t you, Chan?”

“I’m not leaving,” his younger friend answered in defiance, the sound of despair his mother made echoing inside his mind as he pulled the other aside, gripping his wrist hard and tight as he listened to his protests, “I have a sword,” he heard him say, his voice clear of any fear and worry despite looking like the very image of dread some time ago, “I can fight, you know I c-”

“And you can die!” he yelled, gritting his teeth as he held Chan’s stoic gaze, the air around them buzzing with nothing but the impending cataclysm of that fateful day- it was spring, but it felt like a nightmare instead.

“So can you,” Chan whispered, the swirls of hazelnut in his eyes glimmering with tears, “I am ready to die for our land as much as you are, Seokmin,” the younger maundered out, tenacity dripping on his voice like maple in summer, his conviction wrapping his whole body in shards of great pain- Lee Chan, despite already being of legal age, was still a boy in his eyes, and Seokmin knew, he could go far in life, could achieve so much, could be someone great, “I’ll be by your side no matter what.”

“No,” he shook his head, drowning out his friend’s objections as he forcefully dragged him towards an almost full carriage, shoving him inside in spite of the other thrashing and fighting back, “You are not dying today,” he breathed out before motioning for the vehicle to move, his chest empty as he watched the once buzzing community melt into nothing but a shell of his childhood.

The smell of spring was gone and was then replaced with the pungent scent of kerosene and machines, the air was bleak and the winds were still- Seokmin was alone in the middle of the plaza as the sound of chaos and footfalls surrounded him, his eyes closed and his heart thumping while the world around him turned, he was dying, that was all he could think about and for a moment, he allowed himself to think of the naivety that coursed his veins when he was younger, of looking at his community and thinking that life was good, and that life could only get better, the grip he had on his sword tight while thoughts of Jisoo floated right in front of his eyes.

He thought of how they awoke on his bed one midnight, and of how Jisoo told him about witnessing a wedding ceremony in a forest in the far North and timidly telling him how he’d want to marry him someday, “The birds shall be our choir,” the fae sighed dreamily, kissing his cheek with fond, “The trees will lay as our wedding table, and the fawns will braid us our wedding bands,” the son of Spring hummed, beaming down at him, and asking if he wanted something like that too, the crimson under his cheeks blooming into the most intense roses as he answered with a, “Yes,” and a, “That and more.”

Seokmin found himself in the forest when he opened his eyes, the familiar sound of the stream under the stone bridge that held his fondest memories welcoming him with an odd sense of disbelief- Jisoo was somewhere in the woods, he would know because he could feel him in the air, his overwhelming scent almost masking the scent of something burning, the fae had somehow lead him there, forcing him out of the community and out of danger, and as much as he appreciated that he was looking out for him, he did not stay to cower and hide, his feet moving in their own accord, shaking his head as he ran towards the eye of war, ignoring the way his surroundings changed and morphed right before his eyes, adamant on making his presence known to The Great Agma.

He was not scared.

And even Jisoo would not stop him from fighting a losing battle.

June was unforgiving, and June was not the same bright month he remembered as he heard someone rushing towards his side, moving on instinct and blocking the blade that the intruder aimed for him, the sound of iron clanging against each other echoing through the woods, scaring a flock of wide-eyed sparrows and rendering the world frozen- in his mind, he was Seokmin and the other was Seungcheol, it was just another day in winter, another day of training.

“Fear has no place in the battlefield,” he recalled Seungcheol saying, his apprehension melting into nothing but numbing desperation to live and to continue fighting, moving in ways that Jeonghan instructed him to, aggressively fighting back in a way that his older friend demanded him to do, “And so does pity.”

His whole body was on fire, and his chest heaved as he continuously attacked his assailant, his vision bleary and filtered with crimson, his veins swelling with adrenaline with every block and with every jabs- Seungcheol said not to look at the eyes of anyone in the battlefield, Jeonghan said it was important for him not to, “You are naturally soft for your own kind,” the son of Winter explained, “You cannot afford to be like that when fighting.”

And Seokmin should’ve listened, and Seokmin shouldn’t have looked in the eyes of the man advancing towards him because maybe then, he wouldn’t have lost his footing and wouldn’t have been wounded on his side, blood gushing, red and thick down his torso as he swept his sword and cut the other man by the neck, sending him on his knees on the ground with a look of pain marring his familiar face.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, recognizing the man as one of Najeun’s people, his heart wrenching and his mind spinning- Seokmin did not understand anything, couldn’t comprehend why they would work for the same man that took their homes, the same man the burned their lands, the same man that wrecked their peace.

“It’s our lives or yours,” the man answered with blood on his mouth and on his front, dying right before Seokmin’s eyes as pain erupted on every crevice of his entire being, completely in daze and dizzy as he staggered away from the person he had just slain, stomach turning as he managed to get away, only a few feet from his sin and another several feet towards the plaza.

The Great Agma was nowhere to be seen as his people poured gas on every abodes that held decades of memories, destroying their shrines and beheading statues of the deities that watched over them all their lives, burning and erasing the landmarks of his childhood- the ache in his chest had gone and singed his insides, his whole body shaking in maddening rage at the sight before him, his limbs, trembling as he struggled to stand up, to yell and to fight all of them.

No, his mind had yelled, and in a distant, he could hear the hollers of bright hope.

No, he mouthed in the air, hot tears spring from his eyes as he saw a group of advancing towards the crumbling community.

No, he shook his head, crawling his way to the tragedy that was bound to happen unto the place where merriment once echoed with the song of festival.

No, he begged, screaming on top of his lungs when Chan came into full view, leading a small crowd of youngsters that had just turned into young adults, some still on the cusp of boyhood, hooting and holding flimsy swords like they were playing knights under the summer sun.

No, no. no.

People with power would declare war, and the elders would flee for their own and leave the youth to fight and die for them, forcing the tribulation and sorrow and pain of combat on their shoulders, and Seokmin sat and watched Chan and his brothers and friends run towards the masses of men who held no pity for their innocence and ignorance, and for a moment he looked at them and thought of summer, of Chan jumping on the cliff with their friends, of them swimming under the blistering sun and drinking lemonade that had their stomachs aching on the evening.

Clusters of leaves erupted everywhere, vines wrapping themselves unto the enemies’ legs, bushes of emeralds shielding Chan and his clamoring friends- Jisoo had appeared, and the fae was twirling around in the air, commanding nature with a look of concentration in his face, and for a second it looked like everything was turning up, but hope was a curse, and hope was nothing but a prequel on every horrors of life, his magic was not enough to stop the war, veins were cut and leaves were burned, blood had spilled and cries echoed all around him.

Jeonghan was right, it should’ve been winter.

Strangers came, and killed his friends and their brothers on the same land that they grew up in.

Strangers came, and declared themselves not guilty of their crimes.

Strangers came, and burned their history.

And Seokmin was crying and was boiling with anger, still bleeding heavily from his side and aching all over- he wished to kill every single one of them even when he knew he couldn’t, he wished to fight and make them pay, he wished to take their lives in vengeance.

For Chan, and his brother, and his friends.

For his mother and his father.

For his people.

For Mother Nature.

Their story was written eons ago, and little did Seokmin know, whether he stood victorious or not, his fate was sealed, and his grave was already dug- there was no changing that, no matter how hard he'd fight.

"Hold on to me and close your eyes, Seokmin,” he heard someone say, the high noon sun doing nothing to aid his delirious mind- Jisoo was holding him, his arms tight and strong as he wailed and thrashed, the fae’s energy seeping unto his skin and turning his pain into nothing but a void of lax serenity, “There is no need for you to be brave.”

June was waning, and so did the sugared wind of spring, and as Seokmin blinked his eyes open, he couldn’t help but admire the daffodils and purple hyacinths that welcomed him back from his slumber- vision hazy, and thoughts scattered, he laid still for a moment, blinking away the strain in his eyes as he felt pain slowly blooming from his side and unto the rest of his body, memories of what happened on the third week of June resurfacing inside his head like a nightmare replaying over and over again.

It was agony, and it was a complete torture to see colors drained out of the faces he used to associate with bright summer, to repeatedly witness his friends, much happier and much younger, keel over with blood gushing out their plump fleshes and smooth skins, to relive Chan’s dimming eyes under the glimmer of the kind spring sun- Seokmin wished he could stop feeling anything altogether.

“You’re alive,” a voice drifted through the dry and stagnant air surrounding him, the familiar warmth that came with it gracing his throbbing veins some relief- Jisoo was standing over him, mouth curved in a small smile that didn’t quite reach his glittering umber eyes, “It is a blessing and a curse.”

“Jisoo,” he mumbled under his breath, his voice broken and rough in his own ears, an overwhelming sense of yearning filling his mangled lungs with crocus and fescues, the bitter taste in his mouth momentarily replaced with the comforting tang of citrus, “You’re here.”

“It is spring, Seokmin,” he heard him answer, grim and sad, cloaking his trembling body with his weakening energy- it was spring, he was right, but it wouldn’t be for much longer, “Eat and drink,” the fae instructed, fading through the wind, and appearing crouched in front of him, the sight of imperfectly peeled oranges on his palms warming his torn heart slightly, “Eat,” he urged, “You need your strength back.”

Seokmin could only obey- inside their cave, and alone with the son of Spring, his clenching heart was eased into placid passiveness, it was June and for a moment everything was beautiful again, it was only him and Jisoo, it was only his soul and the glowing essence of his fae.

“I’ve made shrines for your friends for I deem them heroes,” Jisoo said after he finished all the fruits the other had gathered for him, his stomach churning despite telling himself that there was nothing else he could do but accept their fates, grief shrouding his insides with coldness he could only compare to Jeonghan’s brittle rage, “The sparrows will sing of them for an eternity,” he heard him hum, slender fingers through his locks, soft palms caressing his tear-stained cheek, “The winds will tell the world of their bravery.”

Seokmin thought that that wasn’t enough, burying his face deeper on the crook of his lover’s neck, and sobbing for their lost lives, the mornings passing quickly as he mourned, the evenings melting into dawn much quicker than he would’ve liked- the world was moving when he didn’t want it to, a new day was breaking when he was still stuck in the past, helplessly wounded as he watched his community burn and his love ones die.

“You must leave,” Jisoo said, looking at him with urgent eyes as the sun above them touched their skins with its rays, already sweltering with a promise of hotter summer days and lonelier nights, and in normal circumstances, he would’ve been happy and would’ve looked forward to bluer and clearer skies but he was alone, and his friends had died, a part of him still couldn’t find it in himself to rejoice for new beginnings, “You cannot stay here.”

He wished to stay.

He longed to remain where he was.

But Jisoo was on his knees with tears marring his gentle eyes, holding his face so tenderly and delicately like he was made of glass, like he was afraid he’d crumble beneath his fingertips, and Seokmin felt like he would, like the world was collapsing on him, like he would rather be buried on the moist soil of his home than stand on it- for a second, he wished he could just die, and he regretted even thinking about it as his beloved cried for him.

Seokmin must be grateful because he was breathing and alive.

He should be glad he was there, inhaling the faint lavender in the air, basking the torrid glow of the sun.

But he couldn’t as his grief overshadowed every good feelings he had stored in his chest.

“You cannot stay here and cry for them forever,” Jisoo whispered as he continued looking at him, his silken voice hoarse and broken, and Seokmin wished he was strong enough to not succumb to remorse, “Your friends are not here,” he heard him go on, wiping away his tears with the smooth expanse of his palms, kissing his forehead gingerly before gathering him in his arms, “Their bodies will rot where I buried them, but their souls had already gone with the wind- they did not die, Seokmin. Do not kill yourself for people who did not perish."

Their souls were going to grow with the daffodils and the berries in the woods, they would play with the winds, and they would sing with the loud cicadas of the nights. "They were not gone," Jisoo assured him that they were not, and Seokmin nodded, soaking in his presence and apologizing for what he wished over and over again- he was hurting, and so was his fae, and he hated himself for letting him carry his burden for days, vowing to continue living for himself and for spring, for his friends that had gone and for his friends that were still waiting for him somewhere.

He will live, Seokmin promised to himself, kissing Jisoo soundly as dusk veiled them with calm darkness. He will live, he echoed in his mind, embracing his beloved with all the love he could muster, “I love you,” he whispered, holding him close as night fell, peppering his skin with butterfly kisses as the first signs of summer appeared, “Disappear here.”

“Spring will come to you in the North,” Jisoo breathed out on his collar, the last remnants of spring fading right before his eyes, “And I will find you, Seokmin- trust that I will.”

July was beautiful, and July welcomed him with candied winds and blazing heat- flashes of every summer festivals he celebrated with friends and families appearing his minds, making the ache in his chest even more overbearing as he looked at the space inside his arms where Jisoo vanished.

Seokmin thought he knew better then how to handle loss, accept doubt, and live with the unknown- he thought that he had learned to wait for spring, but alone in his cave with no one to turn to, he found himself crying for everything and everyone he lost on the season that was supposed to be reserved for rebirth and life, heart heavy as summer came, realizing that survival was an outcome he truly wasn’t prepared for.

But over the hedgerows, through the woods- he left his home in lieu of erasing the tragedy that his life had turned to, adamant on rewriting history with The Great Agma’s blood as his ink.