[TC/005] Beyond The Forests [Yesung/Henry, PG-13]
Title: Beyond The Forests
Pairing: Yesung/Henry
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Romance
Challenge: Themes Challenge
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, SME does. Plot is mine.
Summary: They meet because of the forest, their similar pasts shrinks the gap between them, but somewhere beyond the forest is where their true hearts reside.
Warning: UN-BETA'D. Rushed.
Challenge - Theme: Wolves. Pairing: Yesung/Henry.
His blood runs red and his veins are blue, but his heart was made of crimson velvet. Not in the literal sense, of course.
This kind is a special kind, people would often say. The crimson hearted were often sought out, because they had fragile hearts and weak minds. Attributed to their weakness was the ability to protect and preserve, a quality others often lacked in.
Though their hearts were delicate and easily broken, destroying them only made them stronger.
Like velvet, they were kind and passive but if mistreated their revolt and transformation is greater than that of any other. Motivation gives them power.
This is why many have befriended them, stolen them, abducted and kept them. They are nothing more than humans but they are known to be more than that. They are the crimson hearted, the purest of minds and the epitome of dignity.
They are desirable.
-
If there is one thing Henry has always understood about traveling, it is that you never stay in one place for long. Not to sound obvious or oblivious, but that is an issue many people don’t realize-- when you travel and are frequently on the run, there are many instances in which you bid others farewell.
Ever since Henry was old enough to leave the care of his many foster families, he was never able to get back into the habit of staying in one place for long.
“Have a safe trip, Henry! It was nice hanging out with you while you were here.”
A boy with a red cap over his head and a hoodie far too large for his body hanging off of his torso smiles-- a smile that is a bit too blinding-- and nods, waving an arm carelessly as he enters the boarding gates of the train station. “It was nice meeting you,” he shouts back. “Don’t miss me!”
Generally, though, Henry does not grow strong bonds.
Because parting has always been the most painful part of any relationship, and when you split ways with others as often as Henry does, it makes no sense in creating friendships with those that you won’t stay in company with for long.
Although, if Henry were to admit, parting isn’t the absolute worst of bidding goodbye, it is the memories that haunt you the days and years after-- reminiscence, regrets, the want to see that person again.
Henry’s never had the time of day for stuff like that, so, he doesn’t deal with it.
For now, at least; until the day he can no longer deny it.
-
“Have you ever lived in an environment like this, Henry?”
Henry knits his brows, forcing a smile, as he raises his head and meets eyes with the old woman standing at his door frame. With the door pulled open entirely, he can see the light simmering into the hallway from the window on the wall above.
A dreamlike scenario.
“No, Mrs. Kim, I haven’t. This is actually my first time lodging in the wild, so close to the forestry,” Henry replies politely. He only ever knew how to be polite, because that was the way he was brought up-- the only thing he was taught, really.
The old lady took a step forward. Only now did Henry realize her head bobbed uncontrollably in minor spasms, her wrinkled face kind but a bit too tired. “My grandson will be stopping by soon. He doesn’t live here anymore, but he likes to visit. I’ll ask him to show you around. It can be quite dangerous around here if you’re unfamiliar with the environment.”
“Would it be too troublesome?” Henry asks. “It’s alright, really. I’ll use the short period of time I have here to explore for myself.”
Mrs. Kim shakes her head, patting a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “No, that won’t do, child. It’s too dangerous, much too dangerous. Even I’m too scared to leave this old house sometimes.”
Henry resists the urge to frown. “What makes it so dangerous?”
“You’ll see,” the old lady smiled vaguely, turning slowly and heading for the door. “You’ll see.”
After she leaves, Henry finds himself organizing his luggage, the question still wandering aimlessly into his mind as he does one last pace around the room and collapses on his bed. The sheets are soft and warm, albeit the bed itself being a bit hard, and gradually the world fades black as the lids to his eyes start fluttering close.
He hears the chirping of the birds outside his window, the soft forest breeze breezing into his room, his hands clutching the blankets. It’s all so peaceful.
But still he wonders-- what could possibly be so dangerous about a place like this?
-
What feels like only minutes later pass when Henry hears a rough knocking on his door. He wakes up to a start and rubs the sleep from his eyes, yawning as he walks to the door and pulls it open.
Honestly, he half-expected it to be the old lady.
Instead, he finds a young man, who can only be a few years older than himself, standing there, without so much as a smile gracing his face. His eyes are dark, almost darker than his raven black hair that rounds his face nicely and shapes his eyes, making his features more prominent than they probably should be.
His skin is fair and pale, but the skinny outfit he wears that sticks slickly to his skin, boasting his fit body, proves that he’s anything but weak.
“My name is Yesung, I’m Mrs. Kim’s grandson. I’m sorry to interrupt your rest,” the man greets him, his tone a bit cold, “but my grandma asked me to wake you and show you around before it turns dark outside.”
Henry shakes his head. “No, no, it’s fine. I really appreciate your help.”
Neither say anything more after Yesung tells Henry to meet him downstairs when he’s ready, not even exchanging so much as a smile. Henry works his way to the restroom and cleans himself up a little, sighing as the muscles in his body relax.
He hadn’t even realized when he had tensed.
By the time he makes it downstairs, Yesung is already leaning against the back of the sofa by the hall to the front door, hands stuffed in the pockets of his cargo pants, his figure protruding prominently through his black wife beater.
His heart skips a beat, oxygen knotted together in the bottom of his throat.
“Let’s go,” Yesung says when he spots Henry at the foot of the stairs.
Henry nods and quickly catches up with the man at the door. It’s still quiet outside, the forest filled with trees as high as the skies and birds that sing so loud that Henry can’t really hear anything else. There is the need to spark a conversation to break the ice of the awkwardness between them, but Henry isn’t really sure what to say.
“So, what makes this place so dangerous?”
The man doesn’t stop walking but tilts his head to look Henry in the eyes. His expression is a bit uneasy to read, but Henry is only conscious of monitoring the rhythm of his heart and making sure he’s breathing in moderation correctly. Yesung doesn't reply.
“Mrs. Kim warned me about the forest,” Henry explains, “she told me it’s not good to go around alone when I’m still unfamiliar with the environment.”
Yesung looks ahead and then lowers his eyes. “We’ve got wolves, I suppose. Red wolves. They’re nearly extinct now, but we’ve got a pack or two of them around.”
“They’ve attacked before?”
“Never.” Yesung replies.
They’re walking up a path that stretches very far ahead, Henry inwardly sighs. He isn’t quite used to this much exercise.
Yesung purses his lips, pointing ahead. “They don’t live very far off this road. Even though they travel up to twelve miles a day to hunt, they always return to this very area for rest and settlement. I grew up with them.”
“So, they’re not dangerous?” Henry furrows his brows, mildly confused.
“They are, but as are all humans in this world. Anyone can be dangerous but it’s up to us whether or not we choose to be. I choose to befriend the wolves; my grandma chooses to isolate herself from them. Somewhere in between all of this, death and chaos have reigned, but it’s the cycle of life. It can’t be changed.”
Henry thinks Yesung’s words are quite awe-inspiring and made very much logical sense to him, but something about his concept seemed off. What it was, though, Henry couldn’t put a finger on. “I see.”
“The lake over there,” Yesung remarks, pointing over an edge, “it belongs mainly to the deer, elk, rabbits, and birds. The larger lake a bit deeper into the forest are territory of the wolves.”
“They’ve even got their own lake?” Henry chuckles, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he pants a little. “That’s sick.”
He doesn’t notice a big bark lying loose on the path and trips over it, hurling forward with a curse on the tip of his tongue. Yesung reaches out just in time to catch him before he falls face first into the dirt, an arm around his waist and the other hand grasping Henry’s bicep.
It hurts a little, but isn’t unpleasant. “Sorry,” the young foreigner apologizes.
Yesung smiles a little and shakes his head, helping the younger boy stand. Henry can only hear the loud buzzing in his ears now, his cheeks reddening as he pats himself in the arms and knees to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself.
Henry finds it a little hard to breath when he’s around Yesung. “Do you live far?” Henry asks, attempting to spark some sort of conversation to fill in the near silence.
To be honest, though, it wasn’t silent at all. The chirping of the birds, the sound of different wildlife treading on the forest grounds, the music from the wind through the trees and the running streams-- the place was so full of life.
“I mean,” he clears his throat, “your grandma told me you didn’t live with her anymore.”
With dark eyes, Yesung points in a direction ahead and motions for Henry to follow him. “I don’t really have a certain place I settle at for long,” he says, “I like to travel.”
“Oh! Just like me,” Henry grins. He doesn’t know why, but it feels good to have finally found something in common with this stranger. “How do you always manage to stop by and visit then?”
Yesung’s eyes are stern, hardened at the edges. “I manage.”
And, for some reason, Henry remembers what Yesung had mentioned about the wolves. They travel up to twelve miles from ‘home’ everyday, but they always return to the comfort of their settlement.
“What about you?” Yesung asks out of the blue. “Do you not return home often?”
He doesn’t want to admit it, but Henry is happy that Yesung was curious to know. Despite himself not realizing it, he’s slowly beginning to want more from Yesung-- his attention, his curiosity. He’s desiring, hoping to gain more from Yesung the longer they’re together. “Me?”
Yesung nods.
“I don’t really have family.” Henry admits. “I grew up in a small orphanage in the city but eventually they transferred me over to foster care because there was a higher chance of me being accepted with foster families. I lived with a lot of different families over the years. When I finally turned eighteen, I left foster care and began to work and provide for myself.”
“It must have been hard,” Yesung says; his voice is gentle and low.
Henry’s heart beats a little stronger at Yesung’s words. “It wasn’t too bad. It could have been much worse, I suppose.”
Yesung forces a smile, his eyes softening just the slightest bit. “And then?”
“Well, I realized I didn’t like being stuck in one place. I couldn’t adjust to constantly staying in the same apartment, the same job, the same city, or seeing the same people everyday. So, I spent about the next two years working and saved up as much as I could and began traveling.” Henry explains. He runs a hand through his hair, his palm coated with sweat he hadn’t realized he’d had. “Now I’m here.”
The older man nods, his lips pursed. “And you never stopped? You never went back?”
“Never.” Henry blinked. “There’s nothing for me to go back to, really.”
The deeper they travel into the forest, the colder it gets. Henry isn’t sure he feels very comfortable anymore, but Yesung seems to know this forest particularly well-- down to every small detail.
“So, do you--”
“I think we’ve done quite a bit of sightseeing today,” Yesung interrupts him. He looks a bit alarmed, as if he’s in a rush to get out. “As long as you remember not to trespass the wolves camp that’s just over that hill, and don’t venture into this forest at late hours, I’m sure there’s nothing you need to worry about.”
Henry blinks blankly, nodding. “Are you leaving again?”
“I have some matters to attend to, but I’ll show you back to the lodging. My grandma should have dinner already prepared for you,” the older man exclaims.
The young foreigner remains silent, following closely behind the older man. He feels uneasy, as if someone were watching them, listening to every step they take as they made their way out of the forest maze.
For whatever reason, he can’t remember any trail or path that Yesung had shown him this entire time. Unease settles within him and he walks a little closer to Yesung, their steps tightly bound in rhythm.
Yesung notices Henry’s discomfort and lowers his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have traveled this far into the forest; they should have stopped at least half an hour ago, but he just couldn’t help himself when it came to these wooden grounds.
Minutes later, Henry’s teeth began chattering from the cold, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
“Here.”
Henry raises his eyes from the ground-- he doesn’t even notice he was watching Yesung’s footsteps, counting every step and keeping track of their speed. When his eyes met with Yesung’s, a hand was outstretched to him.
“It’s my fault for taking you so far.” The older man seemed to be apologizing, so Henry shook his head politely. Yesung furrowed his brows, reaching out and taking hold of the younger boys hand, guiding him forward. He wasn’t wearing much himself, so there wasn’t anything else but his hand he could offer Henry.
Warmth transmitted through their palms. Yesung’s hands were a lot warmer than Henry had expected; his own hands were cold and dry. A smile spread across his pale face, feeling a lot more secure than he had before.
When they reached the lodging, Henry released an audible sigh.
“Thank you,” Henry greeted Yesung one last time. “I really appreciate you giving up your time to show me around.”
Yesung nodded and stiffly smiled back. Seconds later, he looked downwards. Henry followed his gaze.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Henry apologized bashfully. He hadn’t realized they were still holding hands; it had felt so natural, so safe that when the let go, a cold wave washed over him. Was it hesitance? Reluctance?
“It’s okay,” Yesung shook his head. “I have to go now. Could you relay the message to my grandma that Jongwoon will be back tomorrow?”
Henry nodded, but his brows knitted together in question. He decided not to ask. “No problem!”
“Thank you,” Yesung bowed slightly. He turned to leave, every step loud and clear in Henry’s ears. When Yesung disappeared into the distance, Henry relaxed, sighing as he entered the cabin.
Yesung stopped amidst the trees, watching as Henry walked through the wooden doors.
The old lady greeted him at the foot of the stairs, her smile a bit stiff and forced as he bowed at her. “Did you have fun?”
“Yes, I did. Thank you very much.” Henry said.
After a moment of awkward silence, she took a deep breath and motioned for him to follow her into the dining room for dinner. “I’m supposing Yesung has already left?”
“Oh, yes. He asked me to relay a message to you. He said, Jongwoon will be back tomorrow.”
She paused at the edge of the table, her hand lowering onto the back of the wooden table chair. For a moment, Henry could have sworn her soul had left her; her eyes blank and her body motionless.
Henry frowned. “Mrs. Kim, are you alright?”
Mrs. Kim cleared her throat, nodding as she took a seat in the chair. “I’m fine.” With her eyes downcast, she turned around to glance out the dining room window; in the distance, within the shelter of the shade and bushes, she spotted a pair of familiar eyes looking at her.
Slowly, Yesung shook his head at her, both of their eyes firm and unwavering.
“Is Jongwoon another relative of yours?” Henry asked.
Startled, she turned back to him at the table. “Ah, no, that’s Yesung’s birth name.”
Henry smiled, nodding softly. “I see. Why is he called Yesung then?”
The old lady glanced out the window again, but her grandson was already gone. “He only calls himself Jongwoon in special occasions. I named him Yesung, but his parents liked the name Jongwoon. We went with my decision in the end.”
“So, he grew up with you?” Henry asked curiously.
Mrs. Kim lowered her eyes, picking up the chopsticks beside her bowl. “No, he has always been elsewhere, but he visits often; sometimes for long periods, other times temporary stays. He’s got a soft heart, that child. So kind and so fragile.”
Confused, Henry couldn’t quite understand the logic running through this family. “But he said he’s always traveling.”
“That’s because his parents were forced to abandon him in his early childhood,” Mrs. Kim replied, “they left him with a pack of strangers and disappeared ever since. They travel, those beasts who took him; miles and miles a day. But in the end, they always made sure to end up back at home.”
“Beasts?”
Mrs. Kim shook her head, sighing. “No, nothing. What matters is Yesung is bound to them now, but he comes to see me as often as he’s allowed to. It’s mandatory for him to work for them, give them gifts, offerings, anything he can gather, but it seems he might be returning empty handed today.”
Henry bites down on his bottom lip. “Will he be alright?”
“I can’t be certain.” Mrs. Kim mutters beneath her breath, her lips trembling. “But he promised us he would be back tomorrow, didn’t he? He's motivated; he wants to come back for us, because of us. As his true, most original self. We can trust him.”
“Us?” Henry tilts his head. "We?"
Mrs. Kim smiled weakly, her eyes glazed over with an unreadable expression, as if she would break down and cry, but there's happiness in there. She raised a hand to pat Henry’s head across the table, trembling, shaking, the threads of his hair soft against her wrinkly palm.
“Yes. We’re considered family now, aren’t we?”
Though Henry’s never allowed himself to invest feelings into these temporary stays, he looks into the old lady’s shaking eyes and sees a reflection of Yesung-- his sharp face, those dark eyes, his subtle smiles, the way he had caught him as he fell-- and finds himself falling a little too deep into these images, this pact.
Maybe just this once, he could let himself be wayward and do as he wills to.
Maybe just this once, he could allow himself to love, to be loved-- or, even, to fall in love.
-
Read Nyx's version of Yesung/Henry [Wolves] here.
-
[ [TC/004]: Author's Choice (Donghae/Sungmin) [Blind] ] ♦ [ [TC/006]: Eunhyuk/Junsu [Vines] ]
Pairing: Yesung/Henry
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Romance
Challenge: Themes Challenge
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, SME does. Plot is mine.
Summary: They meet because of the forest, their similar pasts shrinks the gap between them, but somewhere beyond the forest is where their true hearts reside.
Warning: UN-BETA'D. Rushed.
Challenge - Theme: Wolves. Pairing: Yesung/Henry.
His blood runs red and his veins are blue, but his heart was made of crimson velvet. Not in the literal sense, of course.
This kind is a special kind, people would often say. The crimson hearted were often sought out, because they had fragile hearts and weak minds. Attributed to their weakness was the ability to protect and preserve, a quality others often lacked in.
Though their hearts were delicate and easily broken, destroying them only made them stronger.
Like velvet, they were kind and passive but if mistreated their revolt and transformation is greater than that of any other. Motivation gives them power.
This is why many have befriended them, stolen them, abducted and kept them. They are nothing more than humans but they are known to be more than that. They are the crimson hearted, the purest of minds and the epitome of dignity.
They are desirable.
-
If there is one thing Henry has always understood about traveling, it is that you never stay in one place for long. Not to sound obvious or oblivious, but that is an issue many people don’t realize-- when you travel and are frequently on the run, there are many instances in which you bid others farewell.
Ever since Henry was old enough to leave the care of his many foster families, he was never able to get back into the habit of staying in one place for long.
“Have a safe trip, Henry! It was nice hanging out with you while you were here.”
A boy with a red cap over his head and a hoodie far too large for his body hanging off of his torso smiles-- a smile that is a bit too blinding-- and nods, waving an arm carelessly as he enters the boarding gates of the train station. “It was nice meeting you,” he shouts back. “Don’t miss me!”
Generally, though, Henry does not grow strong bonds.
Because parting has always been the most painful part of any relationship, and when you split ways with others as often as Henry does, it makes no sense in creating friendships with those that you won’t stay in company with for long.
Although, if Henry were to admit, parting isn’t the absolute worst of bidding goodbye, it is the memories that haunt you the days and years after-- reminiscence, regrets, the want to see that person again.
Henry’s never had the time of day for stuff like that, so, he doesn’t deal with it.
For now, at least; until the day he can no longer deny it.
-
“Have you ever lived in an environment like this, Henry?”
Henry knits his brows, forcing a smile, as he raises his head and meets eyes with the old woman standing at his door frame. With the door pulled open entirely, he can see the light simmering into the hallway from the window on the wall above.
A dreamlike scenario.
“No, Mrs. Kim, I haven’t. This is actually my first time lodging in the wild, so close to the forestry,” Henry replies politely. He only ever knew how to be polite, because that was the way he was brought up-- the only thing he was taught, really.
The old lady took a step forward. Only now did Henry realize her head bobbed uncontrollably in minor spasms, her wrinkled face kind but a bit too tired. “My grandson will be stopping by soon. He doesn’t live here anymore, but he likes to visit. I’ll ask him to show you around. It can be quite dangerous around here if you’re unfamiliar with the environment.”
“Would it be too troublesome?” Henry asks. “It’s alright, really. I’ll use the short period of time I have here to explore for myself.”
Mrs. Kim shakes her head, patting a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “No, that won’t do, child. It’s too dangerous, much too dangerous. Even I’m too scared to leave this old house sometimes.”
Henry resists the urge to frown. “What makes it so dangerous?”
“You’ll see,” the old lady smiled vaguely, turning slowly and heading for the door. “You’ll see.”
After she leaves, Henry finds himself organizing his luggage, the question still wandering aimlessly into his mind as he does one last pace around the room and collapses on his bed. The sheets are soft and warm, albeit the bed itself being a bit hard, and gradually the world fades black as the lids to his eyes start fluttering close.
He hears the chirping of the birds outside his window, the soft forest breeze breezing into his room, his hands clutching the blankets. It’s all so peaceful.
But still he wonders-- what could possibly be so dangerous about a place like this?
-
What feels like only minutes later pass when Henry hears a rough knocking on his door. He wakes up to a start and rubs the sleep from his eyes, yawning as he walks to the door and pulls it open.
Honestly, he half-expected it to be the old lady.
Instead, he finds a young man, who can only be a few years older than himself, standing there, without so much as a smile gracing his face. His eyes are dark, almost darker than his raven black hair that rounds his face nicely and shapes his eyes, making his features more prominent than they probably should be.
His skin is fair and pale, but the skinny outfit he wears that sticks slickly to his skin, boasting his fit body, proves that he’s anything but weak.
“My name is Yesung, I’m Mrs. Kim’s grandson. I’m sorry to interrupt your rest,” the man greets him, his tone a bit cold, “but my grandma asked me to wake you and show you around before it turns dark outside.”
Henry shakes his head. “No, no, it’s fine. I really appreciate your help.”
Neither say anything more after Yesung tells Henry to meet him downstairs when he’s ready, not even exchanging so much as a smile. Henry works his way to the restroom and cleans himself up a little, sighing as the muscles in his body relax.
He hadn’t even realized when he had tensed.
By the time he makes it downstairs, Yesung is already leaning against the back of the sofa by the hall to the front door, hands stuffed in the pockets of his cargo pants, his figure protruding prominently through his black wife beater.
His heart skips a beat, oxygen knotted together in the bottom of his throat.
“Let’s go,” Yesung says when he spots Henry at the foot of the stairs.
Henry nods and quickly catches up with the man at the door. It’s still quiet outside, the forest filled with trees as high as the skies and birds that sing so loud that Henry can’t really hear anything else. There is the need to spark a conversation to break the ice of the awkwardness between them, but Henry isn’t really sure what to say.
“So, what makes this place so dangerous?”
The man doesn’t stop walking but tilts his head to look Henry in the eyes. His expression is a bit uneasy to read, but Henry is only conscious of monitoring the rhythm of his heart and making sure he’s breathing in moderation correctly. Yesung doesn't reply.
“Mrs. Kim warned me about the forest,” Henry explains, “she told me it’s not good to go around alone when I’m still unfamiliar with the environment.”
Yesung looks ahead and then lowers his eyes. “We’ve got wolves, I suppose. Red wolves. They’re nearly extinct now, but we’ve got a pack or two of them around.”
“They’ve attacked before?”
“Never.” Yesung replies.
They’re walking up a path that stretches very far ahead, Henry inwardly sighs. He isn’t quite used to this much exercise.
Yesung purses his lips, pointing ahead. “They don’t live very far off this road. Even though they travel up to twelve miles a day to hunt, they always return to this very area for rest and settlement. I grew up with them.”
“So, they’re not dangerous?” Henry furrows his brows, mildly confused.
“They are, but as are all humans in this world. Anyone can be dangerous but it’s up to us whether or not we choose to be. I choose to befriend the wolves; my grandma chooses to isolate herself from them. Somewhere in between all of this, death and chaos have reigned, but it’s the cycle of life. It can’t be changed.”
Henry thinks Yesung’s words are quite awe-inspiring and made very much logical sense to him, but something about his concept seemed off. What it was, though, Henry couldn’t put a finger on. “I see.”
“The lake over there,” Yesung remarks, pointing over an edge, “it belongs mainly to the deer, elk, rabbits, and birds. The larger lake a bit deeper into the forest are territory of the wolves.”
“They’ve even got their own lake?” Henry chuckles, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he pants a little. “That’s sick.”
He doesn’t notice a big bark lying loose on the path and trips over it, hurling forward with a curse on the tip of his tongue. Yesung reaches out just in time to catch him before he falls face first into the dirt, an arm around his waist and the other hand grasping Henry’s bicep.
It hurts a little, but isn’t unpleasant. “Sorry,” the young foreigner apologizes.
Yesung smiles a little and shakes his head, helping the younger boy stand. Henry can only hear the loud buzzing in his ears now, his cheeks reddening as he pats himself in the arms and knees to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself.
Henry finds it a little hard to breath when he’s around Yesung. “Do you live far?” Henry asks, attempting to spark some sort of conversation to fill in the near silence.
To be honest, though, it wasn’t silent at all. The chirping of the birds, the sound of different wildlife treading on the forest grounds, the music from the wind through the trees and the running streams-- the place was so full of life.
“I mean,” he clears his throat, “your grandma told me you didn’t live with her anymore.”
With dark eyes, Yesung points in a direction ahead and motions for Henry to follow him. “I don’t really have a certain place I settle at for long,” he says, “I like to travel.”
“Oh! Just like me,” Henry grins. He doesn’t know why, but it feels good to have finally found something in common with this stranger. “How do you always manage to stop by and visit then?”
Yesung’s eyes are stern, hardened at the edges. “I manage.”
And, for some reason, Henry remembers what Yesung had mentioned about the wolves. They travel up to twelve miles from ‘home’ everyday, but they always return to the comfort of their settlement.
“What about you?” Yesung asks out of the blue. “Do you not return home often?”
He doesn’t want to admit it, but Henry is happy that Yesung was curious to know. Despite himself not realizing it, he’s slowly beginning to want more from Yesung-- his attention, his curiosity. He’s desiring, hoping to gain more from Yesung the longer they’re together. “Me?”
Yesung nods.
“I don’t really have family.” Henry admits. “I grew up in a small orphanage in the city but eventually they transferred me over to foster care because there was a higher chance of me being accepted with foster families. I lived with a lot of different families over the years. When I finally turned eighteen, I left foster care and began to work and provide for myself.”
“It must have been hard,” Yesung says; his voice is gentle and low.
Henry’s heart beats a little stronger at Yesung’s words. “It wasn’t too bad. It could have been much worse, I suppose.”
Yesung forces a smile, his eyes softening just the slightest bit. “And then?”
“Well, I realized I didn’t like being stuck in one place. I couldn’t adjust to constantly staying in the same apartment, the same job, the same city, or seeing the same people everyday. So, I spent about the next two years working and saved up as much as I could and began traveling.” Henry explains. He runs a hand through his hair, his palm coated with sweat he hadn’t realized he’d had. “Now I’m here.”
The older man nods, his lips pursed. “And you never stopped? You never went back?”
“Never.” Henry blinked. “There’s nothing for me to go back to, really.”
The deeper they travel into the forest, the colder it gets. Henry isn’t sure he feels very comfortable anymore, but Yesung seems to know this forest particularly well-- down to every small detail.
“So, do you--”
“I think we’ve done quite a bit of sightseeing today,” Yesung interrupts him. He looks a bit alarmed, as if he’s in a rush to get out. “As long as you remember not to trespass the wolves camp that’s just over that hill, and don’t venture into this forest at late hours, I’m sure there’s nothing you need to worry about.”
Henry blinks blankly, nodding. “Are you leaving again?”
“I have some matters to attend to, but I’ll show you back to the lodging. My grandma should have dinner already prepared for you,” the older man exclaims.
The young foreigner remains silent, following closely behind the older man. He feels uneasy, as if someone were watching them, listening to every step they take as they made their way out of the forest maze.
For whatever reason, he can’t remember any trail or path that Yesung had shown him this entire time. Unease settles within him and he walks a little closer to Yesung, their steps tightly bound in rhythm.
Yesung notices Henry’s discomfort and lowers his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have traveled this far into the forest; they should have stopped at least half an hour ago, but he just couldn’t help himself when it came to these wooden grounds.
Minutes later, Henry’s teeth began chattering from the cold, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
“Here.”
Henry raises his eyes from the ground-- he doesn’t even notice he was watching Yesung’s footsteps, counting every step and keeping track of their speed. When his eyes met with Yesung’s, a hand was outstretched to him.
“It’s my fault for taking you so far.” The older man seemed to be apologizing, so Henry shook his head politely. Yesung furrowed his brows, reaching out and taking hold of the younger boys hand, guiding him forward. He wasn’t wearing much himself, so there wasn’t anything else but his hand he could offer Henry.
Warmth transmitted through their palms. Yesung’s hands were a lot warmer than Henry had expected; his own hands were cold and dry. A smile spread across his pale face, feeling a lot more secure than he had before.
When they reached the lodging, Henry released an audible sigh.
“Thank you,” Henry greeted Yesung one last time. “I really appreciate you giving up your time to show me around.”
Yesung nodded and stiffly smiled back. Seconds later, he looked downwards. Henry followed his gaze.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Henry apologized bashfully. He hadn’t realized they were still holding hands; it had felt so natural, so safe that when the let go, a cold wave washed over him. Was it hesitance? Reluctance?
“It’s okay,” Yesung shook his head. “I have to go now. Could you relay the message to my grandma that Jongwoon will be back tomorrow?”
Henry nodded, but his brows knitted together in question. He decided not to ask. “No problem!”
“Thank you,” Yesung bowed slightly. He turned to leave, every step loud and clear in Henry’s ears. When Yesung disappeared into the distance, Henry relaxed, sighing as he entered the cabin.
Yesung stopped amidst the trees, watching as Henry walked through the wooden doors.
The old lady greeted him at the foot of the stairs, her smile a bit stiff and forced as he bowed at her. “Did you have fun?”
“Yes, I did. Thank you very much.” Henry said.
After a moment of awkward silence, she took a deep breath and motioned for him to follow her into the dining room for dinner. “I’m supposing Yesung has already left?”
“Oh, yes. He asked me to relay a message to you. He said, Jongwoon will be back tomorrow.”
She paused at the edge of the table, her hand lowering onto the back of the wooden table chair. For a moment, Henry could have sworn her soul had left her; her eyes blank and her body motionless.
Henry frowned. “Mrs. Kim, are you alright?”
Mrs. Kim cleared her throat, nodding as she took a seat in the chair. “I’m fine.” With her eyes downcast, she turned around to glance out the dining room window; in the distance, within the shelter of the shade and bushes, she spotted a pair of familiar eyes looking at her.
Slowly, Yesung shook his head at her, both of their eyes firm and unwavering.
“Is Jongwoon another relative of yours?” Henry asked.
Startled, she turned back to him at the table. “Ah, no, that’s Yesung’s birth name.”
Henry smiled, nodding softly. “I see. Why is he called Yesung then?”
The old lady glanced out the window again, but her grandson was already gone. “He only calls himself Jongwoon in special occasions. I named him Yesung, but his parents liked the name Jongwoon. We went with my decision in the end.”
“So, he grew up with you?” Henry asked curiously.
Mrs. Kim lowered her eyes, picking up the chopsticks beside her bowl. “No, he has always been elsewhere, but he visits often; sometimes for long periods, other times temporary stays. He’s got a soft heart, that child. So kind and so fragile.”
Confused, Henry couldn’t quite understand the logic running through this family. “But he said he’s always traveling.”
“That’s because his parents were forced to abandon him in his early childhood,” Mrs. Kim replied, “they left him with a pack of strangers and disappeared ever since. They travel, those beasts who took him; miles and miles a day. But in the end, they always made sure to end up back at home.”
“Beasts?”
Mrs. Kim shook her head, sighing. “No, nothing. What matters is Yesung is bound to them now, but he comes to see me as often as he’s allowed to. It’s mandatory for him to work for them, give them gifts, offerings, anything he can gather, but it seems he might be returning empty handed today.”
Henry bites down on his bottom lip. “Will he be alright?”
“I can’t be certain.” Mrs. Kim mutters beneath her breath, her lips trembling. “But he promised us he would be back tomorrow, didn’t he? He's motivated; he wants to come back for us, because of us. As his true, most original self. We can trust him.”
“Us?” Henry tilts his head. "We?"
Mrs. Kim smiled weakly, her eyes glazed over with an unreadable expression, as if she would break down and cry, but there's happiness in there. She raised a hand to pat Henry’s head across the table, trembling, shaking, the threads of his hair soft against her wrinkly palm.
“Yes. We’re considered family now, aren’t we?”
Though Henry’s never allowed himself to invest feelings into these temporary stays, he looks into the old lady’s shaking eyes and sees a reflection of Yesung-- his sharp face, those dark eyes, his subtle smiles, the way he had caught him as he fell-- and finds himself falling a little too deep into these images, this pact.
Maybe just this once, he could let himself be wayward and do as he wills to.
Maybe just this once, he could allow himself to love, to be loved-- or, even, to fall in love.
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Read Nyx's version of Yesung/Henry [Wolves] here.
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[ [TC/004]: Author's Choice (Donghae/Sungmin) [Blind] ] ♦ [ [TC/006]: Eunhyuk/Junsu [Vines] ]