Junho flinched at the unexpected visitor, and when he lifted his beautiful face, he let out a small, defeated sigh.

“I suppose you want to know what that guy was talking about,” he mumbled. “Or maybe you already found out. That’s fine. Don’t feel bad. I understand if you see me differently now, if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore…”

“What are you talking about?” Siwoo interrupted with a sweet laugh, dropping down to the floor beside him with a simple movement.

Junho looked at him in confusion, then shook his head weakly. “Siwoo, don’t make me say it. Please, don’t make me…”

“I don’t understand,” Siwoo shook his head. He had a suspicion, but he wanted to hear it outright.

At that moment, Junho’s chin trembled, and as he closed his eyes, Siwoo could clearly see fresh tears escaping from beneath his long, dark lashes, tracing their way down his silken skin. Siwoo’s heart ached – he wanted nothing more than to kiss each tear away.

“There’s a video of me,” Junho sniffled, refusing to lift his gaze. “A really awful video. My ex uploaded it, and…”

Siwoo couldn’t take it anymore. He knew that if he had to listen to another second of Junho’s broken voice, he would shatter. Hesitantly, he reached out and gently ran his hand along the curve of Junho’s slumped back. Even through his jacket, he could feel the warmth of his body, and it made him feel like he might melt.

“I know,” he whispered. “You don’t have to say any more. I’ve known for weeks.”

“W-what?” Junho’s wide eyes shot up to meet his, and Siwoo saw the blush immediately rise to his already tear-streaked cheeks. He was beautiful. Breathtaking.

“It’s okay, I don’t care about things like that”, said Siwoo, pulling his lips into a pleasant, reassuring half-smile. “Please don’t cry. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone makes mistakes, and besides, I assume you didn’t have much say in what happened to the video. Don’t say such nonsense, I’d never judge you over something like this, and you shouldn’t pay attention to those idiots either... Oh!”

At that moment, Siwoo let out a startled sound, as Junho suddenly threw himself into his arms. Quite literally into his arms: Junho, still sobbing and sniffling from crying, wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders, pressing his tear-streaked face into the crook of his neck.

Siwoo’s entire being trembled at the sudden closeness of the beautiful boy, and he felt his body freeze instantly, like a statue. Yet somehow, he still managed to lift his left arm to embrace this sweet, broken angel. Junho’s scent reminded him of blooming peach blossoms, and as he felt the other’s hot tears and the soft strands of his hair tickling the sensitive skin of his neck, he thought that nothing had ever felt more wonderful. He wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever, never letting him go again, but after a while, Junho voluntarily pulled back a little.

His tear-soaked eyes still shone with immense gratitude as he looked at him. “Thank you, Siwoo,” he whispered, then, shyly and immediately, added: “And I’m sorry for hugging you so suddenly, it’s just that your words felt so nice…”

Siwoo laughed. “You’re such a silly thing,” he said, shaking his head, then, upon spotting the silver hairband on the floor, he quickly picked it up and, with a gentle motion, tucked it into Junho’s silky dark locks. He thought that a prince as breathtakingly beautiful as him should never be loose his crown.