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Summary
Then the boy had arched an eyebrow, tilted his chin to Seonghwa— come on, come closer, the gesture had said —and Seonghwa had gone. Just walked right into the Night Travelers’ camp in the middle of the night, Rin’s warnings the furthest thing from his mind. He’d walked right up to the bright blue wagon, and the boy had jumped down from the roof a bit more carefully than he’d gone up, and they’d stood there in the torch light staring at one another for what had felt to Seonghwa like an age as the stars had wheeled overhead.
He’d realized belatedly that they’d just been standing there staring and smiling like village idiots. “I’m Seonghwa,” he’d offered, suddenly timid.
The boy had truly smiled then, wide and bright and fearless and oh, so beautiful. “Seonghwa,” the boy had repeated, and Seonghwa had felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I’m Hongjoong. Will you be my friend?”