_{wufan is the winter from the stare of his eyes and quiet demeanour to the tips of his fingers: his unnaturally cold touch made more apparent by new york city’s unforgiving winters. but he has a warm heart, one that is bundled up with coats and scarves to shield it from the harsh winds. if wufan is the winter, then kyungsoo is the spring. he brings with him a scent of jasmine and natural warmth especially in the way that he claps his hands on each side of wufan’s face saying, you’re always so cold.}

_{they meet a few days a year when february ends and march begins. wufan picks kyungsoo up from the airport with a bunch of flowers in his hands—a welcomed routine. hello again, my spring, he will always say because kyungsoo is his warmth, his sun on a dim day, the daffodil that fights in the cold winters. kyungsoo will slap him on the arm mumbling stupid, before pulling him down to wipe that smile—his favourite is where the other’s lips stretch over his gums—right off his face. kyungsoo thinks his smile is the warmest, and he will always fall a little more in love.}