Minjun's eyes blinked open and he stared up at the ceiling above him. It was Christmas morning, the day of joy and happiness and presents and fellowship, and yet he couldn't even find the motivation to pull himself out of bed. 

He was spending Christmas alone this year.

Minjun had lived most of his life with few family and friends around him. His parents had divorced when he was young, a messy affair that left him with only one or the other for any holidays. By the time he was ten or eleven, they had stopped bothering to care and sent him to live with his grandfather instead. Honestly, it was the best thing that he could have asked for. 

His grandfather was kind and funny and steady, a good influence on a troubled young boy who had only had his parents to learn from. The years spent with him were the best of Minjun's life, and so even after he turned twenty and was in university, he stayed with the elderly man. Between classes and homework, he helped care for the small house that his grandfather owned there in a small town in Gangwon-do, cleaning and helping out around the house... as long as he was not doing the cooking. They had a casual understanding that he was not good in the kitchen and so as long as he was willing to help clean up, his grandfather took care of making the meals. 

With that arrangement, Minjun lived with his grandfather for the next several years, forming a friendship with the older man. Even after he graduated University, he didn't go out of his way to make more friends; his grandfather was his best friend and he needed no one else.

He started work in his field of choice, working at the local pharmacy as a technician, helping to parcel out medications for people when they came to fill their prescriptions. The old doctor had been there for as long as he could remember, and when Minjun had applied for the job, he had accepted the application immediately. They worked well together, comfortable and easy, much like working with his grandfather.

It seemed that this year was meant to be a year of losses, though. Minjun's grandfather had fallen ill in the early spring and despite the best of care that he could receive, he had passed away in late May. Minjun had never felt so lost or so alone, and even with all the family and friends that came to the funeral, he felt himself drawing away and falling to pieces. He couldn't let that show, though, couldn't let anyone see what the loss had done to him, and so he threw himself into work with a new vigor.

Anything to keep his mind off of his loss.

Dr. Heo really took him under his wing then, making sure to speak with the young man and encourage him. When Minjun finally broke down one day at work, in the late summer, Dr. Heo was there to comfort him and let him cry out his sadness and loss in a tender hug. Minjun found himself relying on the older man more and more, and so when he retired only a few weeks before Christmas, Minjun had been devastated.

The Heo's had moved away into Busan, though, to be closer to their daughter and grandchildren. Minjun hadn't wanted them to go, had pictured them as part of his own small family, but he had only wished them the best of everything and waved goodbye with a smile. That had been only last week. 

They had gained a new pharmacist in the last few days, but Minjun had only had one shift with the young Doctor. He'd found him to be on the hyper, loud side, with a ready smile for anyone and an infectious happiness about him. Minjun thought that he would enjoy working with Dr. Jang, but only time would tell.

With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed and ambled toward the bathroom. He stood for a long moment in the doorway, contemplating if he should even bother showering when he was just going to be spending the day alone in his living room, but finally he decided that he should. Stripping quickly, he showered and dried off without wasting any time, before moving to his dresser to select clothing. It was a pair of plain black sweatpants and a comfortable grey sweater that he settled on, and after donning the garments and his slippers, he made his way to the kitchen to follow the call of his grumbling stomach.

Christmas with his grandfather had always been a big deal, complete with a tree and decorations around the entire small house that they shared. This year, he hadn't been able to bring himself to even bother with the decorations, and so as he entered the main section of the house, there was nothing to even hint that it was Christmas. No lights, no holly, nothing.

They would also typically sit down for a meal in the mid-afternoon, a feast for the two