snow falls around Beomgyu as he stands under a streetlight, taking in his new environment. he’s been drawn to this very small town, the main street that he stands on being lined with small and cozy looking stores. it’s starting to get dark out and the people wandering the street seemingly start to clear a bit. people pass Beomgyu as he stands there, some staring in curiosity at the new face and some staring in awe, something he’s quite used to. he looks around, attempting to feel for another pull to tell him the right way to go, the reason he was drawn to this place. he starts to slowly walk down the street, and a little dimly lit bookstore catches his eye. he walks towards it mindlessly, letting his instincts lead him

a bit earlier, you’ve layered your clothes up enough to finally go outside, despite the town being advised to stay indoors. since it’s a Sunday, there’s very little that would stop you from fulfilling your duties at the church. you feel the cross necklace underneath your clothes pressing against your collarbone, feeling safe and protected. you step out, the snow nearly up to your knees, and looking at the time, you realized you have some time before church to go to the bookstore and find something new to read. heading there, you manage to make it, until right outside, something under the large blanket of snow causes you to trip and fall

then, a voice from behind you

the voice is gentle, melodic. his hair is long and covered with flurries of snowflakes, decorated along his head and in his bangs like a crown— his face is blushing a soft red from the cold and his eyes are filled with concern; briefly, your eyes flicker up to his furrowed brows, taking notice of the scar that decorates his face, reddened and stopping just above his eye, a small deformity on his otherwise perfect face.