Lunxi's Links
His skin is soft beneath the pads of your fingers, so smooth your nail could pierce it. When you think of humans, you think of him: delicate, frail, and gone too quickly. The entirety of his lifespan is barely worth a blink in yours. The differences pile up like snow, one after another, yet you can't help but stand there and watch it fall. There is something alluring beneath his skin and the shaky inhale of his breath, the smoothness of his hair. The heavens would clamor to have him if they knew him, but they do not. Such things—Hyo—is yours and yours only, and you will do everything in your power to keep it that way.
The cold aches your bones. It leaves welts on your skin: red, festering - temporary marks of your weakness. You've always avoided the sharp chills of seasons passing; stayed indoors while winds strode through. When you see him, you can only think of the coldest month - and the deaths that always follow. Old territories: shriveled stalks and wasted bodies, crumpled leaves around the grave. But there's something thawing in his smile - something fresh. The beginnings of hope poking through the snow. You've already decided: he is a winter you will stay.