Longing For Little Hands.

Seongho and Junseong arrived at the local orphanage, the scent of fresh paint mingling with the laughter of children echoing through the air. As they stepped inside, they were greeted by the warm smiles of staff and children alike, their joy palpable and contagious.

Ryan, the event organizer, approached them with a grateful expression. "Thank you for donating the prize money. It will make a huge difference here."

Junseong's smile was bright, genuine, illuminating his features. "We're happy to help. It's an honor to be here."

As they entered the vibrant playroom, a wave of children swarmed around Junseong like bees drawn to a flower.

"Mr. Junseong, play with us!" they chorused, their innocent voices ringing with excitement.

Junseong laughed, his eyes sparkling with delight as he swept up a little boy into his arms. "Okay, okay! What do you want to play?"

Seongho stood back, mesmerized by the scene unfolding before him. Junseong was a natural, enveloped in the joy of childhood, his laughter mingling with the joyful shrieks of the children. A little girl had climbed onto his lap, twirling his hair in her small fingers, while another child clung eagerly to his arm, giggling uncontrollably.

As Seongho watched, a tender ache formed in his chest, drawing his thoughts to a future that felt hauntingly distant. He couldn't help but wonder how Junseong would be as a father. Would he be patient and kind, sharing laughter and warmth in their home? Would their child's eyes light up with joy whenever Junseong smiled, just as these children did?

At the thought, Seongho's heart skipped a beat and he felt a flicker of hope, but it was swiftly overshadowed by an overwhelming sorrow.

Junseong caught his gaze, his grin infectious, and it felt as if the world around them faded into a soft blur. Seongho smiled back, the connection between them deepening, filled with unspoken words and silent dreams, even as a weight settled in his heart.

The children's laughter rang through the room, mingling with the warmth of Junseong's spirit, yet within Seongho, a heartache began to bloom. He understood, with a dreadful certainty, that this idyllic future—a life with Junseong, building dreams and a family together—was a tapestry woven from longing and impossibility.

Junseong could never truly be his. He would never wrap his arms around Seongho with love, never whisper sweet nothings in the stillness of the night, never share the joy of creating a family that carried both their names.

Tears threatened at the edges of his vision, but he swallowed hard, forcing his eyes to drop to the floor, hiding the sorrow that raged within.

The sounds of laughter continued to swirl around him, a bittersweet melody that reminded Seongho, time and again, what could never be.

Amidst the joy, he stood alone, caught between worlds—one filled with light and another shadowed by longing, lost in the sorrow of a love that was never meant to be.

The orphanage was alive with laughter, the bright sunlight streaming through the windows and casting soft shadows on the walls. Children darted between tables, their high-pitched giggles ringing out like music. Junseong, with his magnetic charm, was at the heart of it all, effortlessly tossing a bright red ball to a small group of enthusiastic kids. Their shouts of delight filled the air, transforming the ordinary room into a carnival of joy.

In a quieter corner, Seongho watched, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. There was a warmth that melted the chill in his heart, but a shadow lingered in his eyes—memories he couldn't quite shake off, dreams locked away behind walls his smile had built.

"Mr. Lee!" cried a little boy, bursting forth with a wide grin. "If Seongho has a baby, you should bring it here!"

Laughter erupted around them, a delightful chorus of innocent thoughts. Seongho's smile wavered for a moment, the boy's words cutting through the lightheartedness like a sharp knife. He exchanged a quick glance with Junseong, and in that shared look, a silent question hung in the air. The hopes and fears grounded in that moment were woven intricately between them.

Junseong blinked in surprise, unsure how to respond, his heart aching at the implication. They shared a bond that felt profound yet fragile, teetering on a precipice coated in unspoken words.

"Will Mr. Seongho give birth soon?" a small girl asked, her wide eyes sincere.

The laughter swelled again, but Seongho felt a pang in his chest. He forced himself to smile, but it felt tightening—an act rather than a true reflection of the whirlwind inside him.

"Who knows?" he replied, his voice light but his heart heavy, caught in a tug-of-war between dreams and reality.

As the visit drew to a close, the children swarmed around them, each small body buzzing with excitement and warmth. Junseong's heart swelled even as it ached at the thought of leaving. These children, so innocent and full of life, held a power to uplift and inspire.

"Come back soon, sir!" they chanted, their voices mingling in a sweet harmony.

The sun hung low in the sky as they stepped outside. The world outside the orphanage stood in stark contrast—alive and chaotic. Junseong felt an unease creeping in, a disquietude blooming in the depths of his heart.

Once they were settled in the car, silence enveloped them like a thick blanket. Junseong felt the tension humming between them, a current of unspoken thoughts.

"Hey," he said finally, breaking the stillness. "You okay?"

Seongho turned to him, and for a brief moment, there was vulnerability in his gray eyes. But then it dissipated, replaced by a shielded smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Seongho replied, but Junseong wasn't convinced. He could sense the storm brewing beneath the surface, a turmoil that Seongho was trying desperately to conceal.

As they drove through the bustling streets, flashes of camera lights suddenly blinked into existence, reporters swarming like bees around the car.

"Mr. Lee! Mr. Seongho! How does it feel to win at the Love Fest?" one reporter yelled, shoving a microphone in their direction.

"Are you two the official couple for the Louis Vuitton campaign? We heard the announcement!" another shouted.

Junseong felt the adrenaline spike, but he noticed how Seongho's expression shifted. The excitement outside didn't penetrate the fog that had settled deeply within him. He remained quietly withdrawn, the bright world outside dulling to a muffled backdrop.

Eventually, they arrived at the villa. Junseong stepped out of the car, absorbing the lavishness of the surroundings, yet he felt a heaviness weigh him down, as if the elegance of the place belied the tumult spinning within.

"Hey," Junseong prodded again, his voice filled with concern. "You okay?"

Seongho released a slow breath, his eyes surveying the landscape as if searching for something just beyond the horizon. The weakness in his smile revealed more than he intended.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied softly, but the fragility in his tone hinted at a depth of emotion bubbling just beneath the surface.

Junseong's heart ached at the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. Beneath the weight of expectations, dreams, and fears, they were tethered together, two souls navigating an uncertain landscape of hope.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the villa, Junseong felt a flicker of determination build within him. They stood on the threshold of something beautiful, yet terrifying.

Three hours later, the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm, intimate light over the room. As they prepared for bed, Seongho found himself adrift in a sea of thoughts, completely unaware of the world around him.

Junseong, easily transitioning into comfortable clothes, hummed to himself, a carefree smile on his face. He was oblivious to the quiet storm brewing in Seongho's mind.

"Next week, back to reality," Junseong said with a grin, his voice light, yet tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

Seongho nodded absently, his gaze lost to the shadows dancing on the walls.

In the recesses of his imagination, vivid images began to take form—children's laughter ringing through sunlit rooms, family gatherings filled with warmth and joy, moments that spoke of love and belonging. Yet he tucked these dreams deep within himself, knowing all too well the weight of expectation and responsibility that often drowned such aspirations.

Junseong settled into bed, his posture relaxed, a picture of serenity amidst the restless thoughts spiraling through Seongho's head. He looked so at ease, the gentle rise and fall of his chest a steady reminder of home.

As Seongho lay beside him, the silence hung thick in the air, a tangible barrier between their worlds. The darkness gradually enveloped them, wrapping them in its embrace, but Seongho's mind remained wide awake, teetering on the brink of hope and despair.

What would it take to forge a family, to cultivate a life steeped in love? A flicker of longing ignited within him, yet he couldn't shake the doubt that trailed closely behind.

With a deep breath, Seongho finally closed his eyes, the weight of his unspoken truths resting heavily on his heart. His secrets remained safe in the confines of his mind, hidden from the light that Junseong effortlessly exuded.

As he drifted closer to sleep, Junseong's gentle breathing became a lullaby, each breath a soothing melody that eased him into the depths of slumber. In this quiet sanctuary, where the outside world faded away, Seongho allowed himself just a moment of peace, cherishing the bond they had forged and the dreams, now just whispers, that lingered in the darkness.