to hold a heart

In the cold streets of Seoul, I found warmth in the most unexpected places. Luhan's smile, Ziyu's tiny hand in mine, and a love that defied all my broken expectations. They called me 'uncle' but wanted more—a family I never knew I needed. This is our story of mended hearts, pinky promises, and finding home in the spaces between goodbye and forever.

to hold a heart

In the cold streets of Seoul, I found warmth in the most unexpected places. Luhan's smile, Ziyu's tiny hand in mine, and a love that defied all my broken expectations. They called me 'uncle' but wanted more—a family I never knew I needed. This is our story of mended hearts, pinky promises, and finding home in the spaces between goodbye and forever.

The winter wind bites at my exposed fingers as I walk from the subway station toward Luhan's apartment building. Beside me, Ziyu chatters endlessly about kindergarten while swinging our joined hands back and forth. Luhan walks on my other side, his shoulder occasionally brushing mine.

"Samchon, why don't you live with us?" Ziyu asks suddenly, looking up at me with those huge, innocent eyes that so resemble his father's.

My breath catches in my throat. Before I can formulate a response, Luhan speaks up, his voice soft but firm.

"Sehun has his own home, Ziyu-yah." He shoots me an unreadable glance, his fingers brushing against mine briefly.

We reach the entrance to Luhan's building and pause. The snow has started falling again, delicate flakes settling in Ziyu's hair and on Luhan's shoulders. For a moment, none of us speaks, and I'm acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Luhan's body, so close to mine.

Ziyu tugs at my hand, bringing me back to the present moment. "Can you come inside? Baba makes the best hot chocolate!"

I look to Luhan, seeking his reaction. His breath fogs in the cold air as he meets my gaze, and there's something new in his eyes—something vulnerable and questioning that makes my heart race.