His Scarf | taekook ✔️

o n e

It's difficult to find enjoyment in the things that remind us of loss.

Though the blanket of snow wasn't made to keep you warm, and the ground was slippery under your feet, they glittered with a gift of wonder. The season brought warm hugs and hot cocoa, carols and cheer.

But none of these gratifying thoughts were present in Jeongguk's mind as he stormed out of his parent's house.

"Jeongguk, please—" His older sister pleaded.

The slam of the door solidified the anguish he felt in his stomach, the weight pulling his spirit a few feet under. Jeongguk dragged his boots along the street, nose buried under the polo neck of his sweater as the icy wind sliced through his lungs.

Laughter was heard from another family who stood at their doorstep, welcoming their guests into their cozy home, and suddenly Jeongguk wished his fluffy earmuffs were made of sound-deadening material.

It's okay. Just head back to yours and hibernate for the rest of winter. That should do the trick.

His apartment was less than a half hour walk, but Jeongguk didn't find the idea of hawling himself through mountains of snow appealing, so he headed in the direction of the nearest bus stop.

It was close to deserted, considering the fact that snowfall was heavy that day, so Jeongguk wasn't too surprised to see just one other person sitting under the bus stop cover.

"Good evening," The stranger said, his voice deep and gravelly, probably the result of inhaling so much dry air. Round, slightly fogged up glasses secured upon the gentle slope of his nose. Two bags of presents sat by his side, all wrapped in red and gold.

Jeongguk just nodded and offered an uneasy smile, though it was covered under both his polo neck and his shamefulness. He took a seat next to the brunette and checked the time. "Shit."

The stranger glanced at him.

"Looks like we missed the bus by two minutes." Jeongguk felt the need to explain after that outburst.

The boy next to him shook his head lightly, hands stuffed into jacket pockets. "Nope. Just you." Jeongguk arched a brow at him. "I'm not waiting for the bus," He explained.

"What're you doing then?"

The boy tilted his head back and shrugged. "Chillin'."

"I can't tell if that was pun-intended."

The boy finally turned to face Jeongguk properly. "You're shaking," He noted, changing the subject.

Jeongguk was tense— tense after that fight with his family, but he wasn't about to confide his personal life with a stranger. "Guess I'm a little cold." He watched as the boy took off his scarf and held it in his direction. "Hm?"

"Take it."

"No, it's fine."

"You don't even have a jacket on." The boy persisted, "Take it."

Not quite having the energy to argue, Jeongguk huffed, taking the red piece of fabric and fiddling with it clumsily.

The boy laughed at him, reaching out to help. "Looks like you don't even know how to put on a scarf," He teased.

The stranger took his time, gently wrapping the scarf around the younger's neck and smoothing it out at the sides. Jeongguk seized the opportunity to study his features.

Behind thin glass, his irises were honey, caramel, the color complimenting the dark locks of hair that brushed against his forehead and partially curtained his eyes. Specks of snowflakes perched themselves on the boy's lashes and the cold tinted his cheeks a rosy complexion.

"There." The boy smiled.

He seemed like the perfect companion during such a festive season like Christmas, his friendly aura a direct contrast to Jeongguk's inner turmoil.

"Thank you," Jeongguk mumbled.

The boy scooted back with a subtle nod and looked up, feasting his eyes upon the beauty around them. Jeongguk, on the other hand, averted his attention to his phone, waiting impatiently for his ride to come.

"Where're you headed?"

It took the younger a second to realize the question was aimed at him. "Uh." He scratched the back of his neck. "Home. Nothing special."

The boy's lips drooped down into a frown. "But it's just two days till Christmas."

Jeongguk shrugged. "Christmas ain't that special."

The older fell silent, pursing his lips in a manner that suggested he was deep in thought. Jeongguk took his silence as the end of their conversation and pushed his phone into his pocket as the bus appeared around the corner. It didn't pull all the way to the curb. Perhaps because the edge of the road looked too icy.

Jeongguk stood up, hastily pulling the scarf off to return it, but the owner refused to take it back.

"You can keep it,'' The boy said.

"I can keep it?" Jeongguk repeated, confused.

"It's still gonna be cold on your journey home," He continued, "It's fine. Take it with you."

"But—"

"Are you getting on, sir?" The bus driver called, slight irritation in his voice.

And suddenly Jeongguk found himself seated near the front of the moving vehicle, red scarf in his hands and questions flooding his mind.