The lights flickered in the darkness, rain beating down on him mercilessly. Yet, he didn't feel it. Just like his heart, his body was incapable of feeling anything but a single emotion; grief. 
  It overwhelmed him, seeming to eat him up and crush him to pieces. To be honest, his whole body screamed at the idea of simply walking, and all he wanted to do was to fall to the floor and cry. 
  So he did. 
  Unable to suppress his over flowing emotions, he fell to his knees, body heaving as tears mixed with the rain. His cries could barely be heard over the rain, a hauntingly sad sound that seemed to harmonise perfectly with the pitter patter of the falling drops. 
  He clutched the paper in his hand, hold tight as he bent over, knees muffling his sobs. Oh, how he wanted to die. He wanted so much to see her face again, one last time. One more look would be all he needed. 
  When he felt arms encircling him, his first instinct was to push the person away and tell them to leave him alone. It was only when he looked up, about to snap did he stop short. There, staring worriedly at him, was his mother. 
  "Are you okay?" She asked him, placing her hand under his wet fringe. He grinned weakly, leaning against her hand as he sighed, closing his eyes. 
  "Mother," he had whispered. The last thing he remembered was the sweet voice of his mother calling out to him, saying the name he had long given up on. 
  'Myungsoo.'

  Myungsoo woke up to a soft beeping sound, eyes opening blearily to white walls. He blinked groggily, looking around the empty room. No signs that anybody had been in the room, not that Myungsoo was actually surprised. 
  He sighed and tried to prop himself on his elbows, only to feel them give way. He had never felt more exhausted and without strength before. He looked towards the door as it opened, a man in a white coat walking in. 
  "I see you're awake. My name is Dr Jang and I have come to check on you. How are you feeling?" The doctor asked, and Myungsoo cleared his throat before speaking. 
  "I feel like ." He rasped out, causing Dr Jang to laugh. 
  "Yes, that is rather normal for people with high fevers, Mr..." He trailed off, and Myungsoo rose a brow. 
  "Mr Kim, Myungsoo. Didn't my mother tell you my particulars?" He asked. The doctor frowned, checking his clipboard before shaking his head. 
  "That couldn't have happened either way. It says here that you were brought in by some stranger." The doctor said, and Myungsoo felt his whole world crash. He stayed silent, showing acknowledgement towards the doctor with only slight nods of his head. 
  When the doctor finally left, Myungsoo whimpered softly, tears flowing down his cheeks once more. 
  life along with his damn imagination. 

  Breathing in deeply, Myungsoo removed the cigarette from his mouth as he blew out the smoke, stopping himself from coughing. 
  He was getting better at it; smoking. The first time he had tried it, he had dry heaved, the coughing and smoke in his body making it difficult for him to actually breathed. 
  He had wondered why in the world people would want to smoke, quickly throwing the cigarette away. 
  Now though, with his heart empty, he welcomed the smoke that seemed to fill it up, the smoke that made him feel whole. 
  He tapped the cigarette, tossing it onto the floor and stepping on it. He was about to leave the area when a voice came up from behind him. 
  "You know you're not supposed to smoke in school, right?" Came a soft voice. Myungsoo turned his head slightly, eyeing the boy with undisguised annoyance. 
  In front of him was Lee Sungjong, the nerd who had skipped a grade. They had both been in the same grade since Myungsoo started school here, but had never once actually conversed before. 
  "It's none of your damn business." Myungsoo retorted, turning his whole body and walking back towards the school, bumping shoulders harshly against the younger boy's. 
  Although he would normally not notice it, Myungsoo's heart seemed to pain at the wounded noise Sungjong made. He pushed the thought out of his mind, walking with quick steps towards class. 

  It irked Myungsoo. The way the teacher walked around class, the sound of pen against paper filling the class as time ticked by. It made Myungsoo want to tear the piece of paper into shreds. 
  Grabbing it, Myungsoo walked towards the front and passed it to the teacher, who glanced at him. 
  "Done with your test so quickly, Myungsoo?" He asked and Myungsoo nodded his head, stepping out of the classroom and slamming the door close. 
  The teacher sighed, looking down at the blank sheet of paper, before keeping it inside the file. 

  The library was quiet as always, and Myungsoo walked towards the table, seating himself down. He sighed deeply, letting his face rest in his hands. From his bag, he took out a notebook and a pen, opening the former to a blank page. 
  Myungsoo loved writing. He loved the way any negative feelings he felt would just seep out of him as easily as the ink did from the pen at just the slightest touch. 
  With a shaky hand, he placed the pen on the paper and started writing, tears filling his eyes as he did. 

  An orphan, that was what Myungsoo was. At the mere age of one, he was placed outside the orphanage in which he would grow up in for the next few years of his life. 
  Myungsoo hated the place. The nuns were mean and made him do things he saw no meaning in like taking a nap and having tea. Yet, these activities were ingrained into his everyday life as if a sign was hammered into his head that read 'Take a nap at 4'.
   Myungsoo hated the food the cook cooked, and hated even more the fact that he was to clear his whole bowl before being allowed to leave the table. The only thing he actually liked was the steam buns, but they only made it once every few months. Something about it being too expensive for the orphanage to afford. 
  If Myungsoo were to be completely honest, the thing he hated most about the place was how lonely he had felt staying there. 
  Although they were all the same, without parents, he was still treated as an outcast by all the other children. He never knew what he did wrong, just knew that by the orphanage's standards, he was the lowest of the low. 
  It hurt, being alone. While others would be talking or playing with their friends during playtime, he would be reading quietly in the corner, immersed in a world the author had created. 
  He loved the way that reading seemed to transport him to another dimension. One where pirates would sword fight and there were no judgemental eyes boring into him. That was when Myungsoo decided. 
  He would be a writer. He wanted to create worlds that others would be able to indulge in, he wanted his works to be a place of peace and escape that people yearned for. 
  Writing was the only thing that could cure this loneliness he felt, to make him forget who he was, and that he had no one. 

  "What are you writing?" Came a soft voice. Despite the volume at which the person spoke at, the unexpected question had Myungsoo jumping and slamming his book shut, body heaving in shock. He found himself looking up at Lee Sungjong, who stood at a distance that made Myungsoo comfortable with the fact that the younger wouldn't have been able to read what he was writing. 
  "Nothing," Myungsoo answered, and watched silently as Sungjong took the seat opposite him. They both states at each other for a while, before Sungjong cleared his throat. 
  "You finished your paper already?" He asked. Myungsoo nodded his head curtly, hoping that his silence would give Sungjong the impression that he was in no mood to talk. 
  It didn't. 
  "How did you find it? I found it extremely difficult, to be honest." If Myungsoo were to be true to himself, the questions asked were hardly a challenge. It would be easy enough for anybody who understood the text well. 
  "It was fairly simple. As long as you read your book you would've been able to answer them." Myungsoo replied, trying to imply that he currently thought of Sungjong as an extremely lazy person. Sungjong must have got the message and on his part, looked indignant. 
  "That is totally unfair! I totally did read my book, I just have no idea what it is talking about!" Sungjong said, groaning as he let his head fall onto the table. Myungsoo shrugged, getting up from his seat as the bell rang. 
  All of a sudden, Sungjong sprang up from his seat, a smile painting his face. 
  "I know, you can tutor me!" He said, face falling as Myungsoo answered with a straight out 'no'. 
  "But why? You are good in Literature and I am horrible at it. It totally makes sense for you to teach me. I can pay you, if you want." Sungjong said, and Myungsoo paused mid-step. The idea of tutoring Sungjong didn't appeal to him, but the money certainly did. 
  "Meet me here after school. Two hours each session max. We can discuss my pay after." He said, continuing his walk out the library. 
  Back at the table, Sungjong sighed, patting his cheeks to get rid of the blush on it. Talking to one's crush with a straight face definitely wasn't easy. 

  Myungsoo opened the door to the library, narrowing his eyes when he saw Sungjong sitting at the table. He had purposefully taken his own sweet time, and was late by at least a good thirty minutes. He walked towards the table, where Sungjong was frowning at his book. 
  "You're still here?" He asked, though it came out more as a statement rather than a question. Sungjong looked up, smile breaking out on his face as he nodded. 
  "I thought you weren't coming and decided to just try to read my book. Glad you came, because I don't understand any of it." Sungjong said, sliding the book to the side for Myungsoo to take. Myungsoo huffed, glancing at the book. 
  "Honestly, what is so difficult to understand about The Little Prince? I'm surprised they even gave such a simple book to begin with." Myungsoo commented, sitting down. Sungjong shook his head viciously, so much so that Myungsoo feared his head would dislocate. 
  "It is the absolute most difficult book to comprehend! For example, how does that Little Prince even get to Earth, and how can it talk to snakes? And why are the questions asked in the tests always so unrelated to-" 
  "Chill and shut up for a moment. For one, this book is simple to understand. Secondly, I don't understand why you are so hyped about understanding it. This is only a book given to us on a whim, it's not our main book; Hamlet. I would understand if you asked me for help but this?" Myungsoo asked, sighing. 
  In their school, the book they studied the whole year was only tested in the last paper they took. Throughout the year, they would be given books to read and understand through class, and The Little Prince was one of them. 
  Sungjong groaned, laying his head on the table. 
  "I know, but it doesn't change the fact that you haven't experienced the wrath of my Literature teacher. She expects a full essay about what each book is about, and I have no idea what this book is about!" Sungjong exclaimed, causing the librarian to shush them harshly. 
  Myungsoo exhaled deeply, opening the book and sliding it over to let Sungjong read it as well. 
  "Listen properly and take notes, I won't go over anything twice."

  Throughout the session, it was made clear to Myungsoo that Sungjong had little to no understanding of the word fantasy. He had absolutely no imagination, nor could he get rid of the realist side of him that seemed to flow through his blood. 
  That made it extremely hard for Myungsoo to teacher Sungjong. 
  One moment Myungsoo would be reading and the next, Sungjong would be cutting in with questions like 'How can a boa constrictor eat an elephant' and 'How did the prince immediately know that it was a drawing of a boa constrictor eating an elephant?'
  It took Myungsoo a lot of patience not to just up and leave. However, as much as he wanted to, he felt sad for the boy for not understanding such a beautiful story and decided to continue explaining. 
  'This sentence here, "Kings reign, they don't own." means that despite the King being like the top of the top, he has no control over the stars.'
  "But that's completely illogical. A king can't reign over stars. If anything, they reign over us!" Sungjong exclaimed. Myungsoo groaned softly, sinking back into his seat. This was going to take a long time. 

  And it really did take very long. They had only completed one third of the - truthfully - very short book, and had to meet up after school again for the next few days. 
  As time passed, Myungsoo realised that they were getting less and less work done everyday. He deduced that this was because Sungjong was very, very distracting. 
  They would spend the first twenty minutes just talking. Actually, it was more of Sungjong rambling and Myungsoo listening. 
  If it were anybody else, Myungsoo would've most probably flipped and left the library after the first five minutes. But this was Sungjong, the one that he seemed incapable of ever getting mad at. 
  Myungsoo huffed, and was about to zone out when he heard a sentence that caught his attention. 
  "-you looked really unwell, and I had to drag you to the hospital-"
  "What?" Myungsoo asked, head snapping up. Sungjong blinked at him, confused. 
  "You don't remember? I found you in the rain the other day and brought you to the hospital." Sungjong said. Myungsoo frowned and shook is head to show that no, he didn't know anything of the sort. Maybe this was why he couldn't get mad at Sungjong, because deep down he knew that it was Sungjong to help him. 
  "Why were you in the rain, anyway? You looked like you were crying." Sungjong commented, and Myungsoo clenched his fist, biting the inside of his cheek. 
  "Someone important to me passed away," Myungsoo breathed, and he wondered why he was even telling Sungjong all this. Sure, they had gotten closer as the days passed, but they could only be labelled as acquaintances at most. But then again, he had been dying to tell somebody, to just let everything out. He had been dying to just for once not have to feel alone, to have somebody to comfort him. Maybe he sought that in Sungjong. 
  "H-how was the person like?" Sungjong asked tentatively, worried that he was crossing a line. Myungsoo huffed, tapping his nails against the table. 
  "She was so sweet. She baked me cookies when I was sad and gave me kisses before I left for school." Myungsoo whispered dreamily, a smile etching itself onto his face. 
  He didn't notice the painful one on Sungjong's, nor the downcast look in his eyes. 

  It was weird. Both had finished going through the book, and Myungsoo had thought that they would remain friends and get to know each other better. So it was to his confusion -and slight dismay- when he had greeted Sungjong, only to receive the cold shoulder. Not even a glance of acknowledgement. 
  It had broke Myungsoo a little. Sungjong had been the one person that the former had opened up to, even if just a little, and it made Myungsoo feel slightly betrayed. 
  Myungsoo had willed himself not to care. He forced himself to go back to his normal daily attributions when he hadn't yet met Sungjong. But God, it was so hard. 
  Without him knowing, Sungjong had slowly become a part of Myungsoo's life. His smile, his chuckles, his inability to understand anything; everything. Everything about Sungjong had been imprinted into Myungsoo's mind, distressing him. 
  As time passed, he would watch Sungjong from a corner, and his heart would race whenever Sungjong smiled at someone, laughed with someone. The jealousy that coursed through his veins made Myungsoo wasn't to kidnap Sungjong and never let him go. 
  He came to realise that he was very much in love with the younger boy. It surprised him, how within such a short period of time Sungjong had sneakily made its way into his heart. 
  Just like his mother had. 

  Myungsoo was fifteen, the age in which he would have to be kicked out of the orphanage. He was just waiting for the day when the nuns would slap a bill into his hands, forcing him out into the cold, harsh world. 
  Yet, Myungsoo was sure that the world so cruelly described couldn't be worse than the orphanage. 
  At the time, Myungsoo had been enrolled into school, having received a scholarship. The nuns had apparently made arrangements with the school, and Myungsoo had been given a dorm in the school to stay in. 
  Food and everything else, however, he had to pay for himself. 
  In his life, Myungsoo would reckon that he had never smiled as widely as he did when the nuns handed him an envelope of bills and waved him off with fake tears and calls for him to visit them. 
  Myungsoo had scanned newspapers the next few days, eyes going blurry as he searched for a part time job to fend for himself. When he found one at a café that suited his timings and had undeniably good pay, he had cut the ad up and visited the place the next day. 
  The café was small and cozy-looking, the fire that burned inside making Myungsoo want away from the chill of the winter air. When Myungsoo entered, he smiled as the warmth hit him. 
  The place was quite empty, Myungsoo having visited in between rush hours. He walked to the counter, ringing the bell on the surface. He heard a soft 'coming!' before the door that led to what Myungsoo assumed to be the kitchen opened, a short and plump woman emerging. 
  "Hello, what could I do for you?" The woman asked. Myungsoo cleared his throat, showing the woman the advertisement. The woman's face lit up, nodding. 
  "Ah, I see! Do take a seat, I will be with you in a minute!" Myungsoo had walked towards a corner, settling down in the cushioned seat. He looked around, already feeling comfortable in the café. It gave off a homely feel, made him feel all warm inside. 
  "Now, have you any experience working before?" The woman asked, taking a sip from her cup. Myungsoo played with the one the woman had brought for him, nodding his head. 
  "Yes. I've worked as a waiter for Swensens before." Myungsoo said. At this, the woman looked at Myungsoo with something akin to admiration in her eyes. 
  "Swensens? Isn't that place always packed?" She asked. Myungsoo nodded his head, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 
  "Yup. Gave me quite a bit of back and neck aches, that job." Myungsoo said good naturedly, causing the woman to laugh. 
  "I see. How old are you?" She asked. 
  "I'm fifteen."
  "Fifteen?! That is terribly young, and you don't look the age either!" The woman exclaimed, eyes widening. 
  "Yeah, but I have to support myself. I don't have any parents..." Myungsoo trailed off. The woman gasped softly, before nodding her head in understanding. 
  "Well, if you can work at Swensens at such a young age I'm sure you are more than capable of handling working at my café with me. What do you say, Mr...?" 
  "Myungsoo, just call me Myungsoo." Myungsoo said, smiling widely as he shook the woman's hand, practically skipping out the place. 
  The woman stared at the door in which Myungsoo had left by, hand still in mid-air. 
  Myungsoo, age 15, orphan. 
  Her Myungsoo. 

  Myungsoo was happy working at the café. The woman - Mrs Kim - treated him nicely, letting him eat some of the pastries if he ever came in on an empty stomach. 
  If Myungsoo was ever too tired from a long day at work, Mrs Kim would allow him to leave early without cutting his pay. 
  When his sixteen birthday came rolling around, Mrs Kim had bought him a cake and celebrated it with him. When Myungsoo asked how she knew his birth date, she had told him it was a sixth sense of hers. It confused Myungsoo, but he didn't question her. 
  Two years passed until Myungsoo was seventeen years old. It was Mrs Kim's birthday, and he had bought her a bouquet on the way to the café. He smelt it, lips curling into a smile as the lovey fragrance filled his nose. 
  In this blissful state, he walked towards the café unaware that the ambulance that had passed him was heading to the same destination. 

  The shock that ran through Myungsoo paralysed him, the bouquet dropping from his hands. Everything seemed to fade away as his eyes zoned in on the woman being carried away on a stretcher, face as pale as a ghost. 
  He had fought his way through the growing crowd, yells of 'Mrs Kim' leaving his mouth, desperate for an answer. The ambulance doors were about to close when he stopped it, looking with pleading eyes at the paramedics. They hadn't questioned him as he got onto the vehicle, sliding into the seat and taking hold of Mrs Kim's hand. 
  "Mrs Kim? What happened?" Myungsoo asked frantically as the paramedics worked on her. 
  "A , very severe one. We aren't sure if she will make it." One murmured, tone apologetic but serious. Myungsoo's breath hitched, and looked down when he felt his hand being squeezed slightly. He saw Mrs Kim's mouth moving, and leaned down. 
  "Myung...soo," Mrs Kim let out weakly, making tears form in Myungsoo's eyes. 
  "You will be alright, Mrs Kim, you will be-"
  "Mother." Mrs Kim interrupted, causing Myungsoo to freeze. 
  "What?" He asked, although in his heart he wasn't even sure he wanted to know the answer. 
  "In my recipe book... A note for you. Please, promise me you will read it." Mrs Kim pleaded, and Myungsoo could do nothing but nod. A smile spread on Mrs Kim's face, her eyes crinkling, before they fell. Myungsoo could barely register the paramedics' frantic shouts as he stared into her cold, vacant eyes. 

  It had taken a month for Myungsoo to finally step foot into the café again. Mrs Kim had owned the place and with her gone, the café had been closed and nobody had entered it since. 
  Myungsoo used the spare key given to him to jiggle the lock, pushing the door open. The minute it did, he was hit by how cold the place was. So empty of light, distress hitting him at the loss of warmth. 
  Myungsoo walked to the kitchen and with shaky hands, took out Mrs Kim's recipe book. He was scared. He didn't want to open it, didn't want to know what secret Mrs Kim had kept. And it still bothered him, that Mrs Kim had asked him to call her 'Mother'. 
  Flipping through the book, he stopped when a note slipped out, his name written on it with Mrs Kim's familiar handwriting. Picking it up, he sat on the floor, opening it. 
  'To my sweet Myungsoo,
  If you are reading this, it probably means that I am dead. I'm sorry that you have to find out this way, I honestly wish that I could've told you face to face. 
  Since the day you came in for the interview, I knew it was you. Myungsoo, Kim Myungsoo, the son I had left at an orphanage; the one I missed so much. 
  When I had you, believe me, I was so happy. You were this cute little bundle of joy that smiled and laughed at me and I just loved you so. But I was poor. I couldn't afford to keep you, but not in the sense of money. 
  You weren't planned. I had you with a man during a one night stand and despite the fact that I loved you, your grandparents disapproved of me keeping you. 
  Rumours had spread about me, about our family. That I was some that didn't have enough money for an abortion. 
  Your grandparents hated me for that. Their name was tarnished, and they would constantly blame me. 
  It was difficult. I couldn't deal with the mental stress, I couldn't afford to keep you because I felt like I was being torn up inside everytime they would scorn at me. 
  So I left you at an orphanage, having succumbed to my weakness. I regretted it. Oh, how much I regretted it. You were the light in my life and I had just- given you away. 
  But my parents were pleased. They started talking to me again, and I thought that I would be okay with you gone as long as they treated me well. 
  And for a while, it worked. I was happy, the community started to become welcoming again, and I was relieved. But then one night, it all came rushing back. 
  The one year I had spent with you, how many more years I could've spent had I not given you away. I thought about how much you must've been suffering and I hated myself. God, I hated myself. 
  I hated myself for abandoning you and I hate myself for not being able to tell you this face to face. 
  So many times I have wanted to tell you: Myungsoo, it's me. 
  But I couldn't. 
  What right did I have to turn your life upside down? What gave me the right to abandon you and then intrude in your life as and when I wanted? 
  All I could do was watch and stay by you, silently supporting. 
  I'm happy with how you've grown. Although you have a sharp tongue and rather foul language at times, you have grown into a fine young man. 
  I leave you this café and the truth, and hope that you will forgive this cowardly mother for not being to face you and tell you the truth until she couldn't. 
Love,
Mom

  Myungsoo couldn't take it. He needed to know why Sungjong was ignoring him. He needed to know if he was wasting time on the younger, if he was just the same as everyone else. 
  Myungsoo had waited outside Sungjong's class. He watched as students trailed out, Sungjong coming out last. Myunggsoo moved with lightning speed, catching Sungjong's arm and dragging him into an empty classroom. When Myungsoo let go of him, Sungjong pushed him away, glaring at him. 
  "What the hell was that for?" He asked, and Myungsoo rubbed his neck sheepishly. 
  "You wouldn't talk to me, so I figured this was the only way." He told the younger, and watched as the latter puffed his cheeks in annoyance. 
  "Well, what do you want? I would very much like to go home and finish my homework." Sungjong spat. Myungsoo felt his eye twitch and willed himself to stay calm. 
  "I want to know why you are ignoring me. I thought that we could be friends." Myungsoo stated, letting some of his frustration slip through his voice. Sungjong glanced up at this, before looking away quickly. 
  "I had no intentions with being friends with you." He said, and Myungsoo shook his head firmly. 
  "That's a lie." He said confidently, and Sungjong scowled. 
  "You don't get to decide if what comes out of my mouth is true or not, I do!" He said, putting emphasis on the 'I'. Myungsoo shrugged nonchalantly, looking out the window. 
  "I get to if I know the other person is lying." He said. Sungjong groaned. 
  "I already told you, I'm not!" He insisted, and Myungsoo pursed his lips. 
  "You are."
  "Oh my god!" Sungjong exclaimed, running his hand through his hair. Myungsoo watched, transfixed as the strands slipped through Sungjong's fingers. Oh, how he wanted to run his own hands through it. So he did. 
  Taking a step forward and ignoring Sungjong's exclaims, he started petting Sungjong on the head, enjoying the feel of Sungjong's soft hair beneath his fingertips. 
  He didn't notice the way Sungjong clenched his fist, looking downwards towards the floor. 
  "What are you doing?" Sungjong asked, voice shaking; vulnerable. Myungsoo blinked, twirling a section around his finger. 
  "Playing with-"
  "No, I mean. Why are you trying to get me to be your friend?" Sungjong asked, almost hesitantly. Myungsoo stopped, and just let his hand rest atop the younger's head. 
  "That's because I love you." Myungsoo said. He felt Sungjong stiffen, before he felt his hand being slapped away, the younger moving away. 
  "Don't say that. Don't say that if you don't mean it." Sungjong said, voice weak. 
  "But I do. God Sungjong, I do." Myungsoo said, reaching forward to encase Sungjong's shaking hands with his own. He saw Sungjong shake his head rapidly. 
  "You don't. You're just confused." He said, and Myungsoo frowned. 
  "Huh? Why would I be confused?"
  "Because the person you love is a girl that just died! A-and I refuse to be a replacement even if I love you!" Sungjong screamed, and Myungsoo froze. 
  All of a sudden, it clicked. Sungjong started ignoring him because... He thought that Myungsoo's mother was a girlfriend. 
  Myungsoo pulled Sungjong towards him, embracing the smaller as he tried to escape. Myungsoo placed his chin on Sungjong's head, sighing. 
  "You got it all wrong."

  Myungsoo had told Sungjong everything that day, bared himself to the younger. Sungjong had cried, hugging Myungsoo as he apologised profusely for being so 'stupid'. All Myungsoo did was chuckle and hug he younger back, rocking him from side to side. 

  Myungsoo sat in the library, pen moving over paper as a smile adorned his face. He wrote the last sentence, picking the book up and smiling. He snapped it shut when Sungjong attempted to steal it from him, and stuck his tongue out at the younger. 
  "What we're you writing?" Sungjong asked, a smirk adorning his face. "Was it ? Was Myungsoo having naughty thoughts about me?" 
  Myungsoo scoffed, pushing the younger down into the seat next to him as he took out a book and began explaining it to the younger. 
  He side glanced Sungjong. Even with the wrinkles that appeared on his face when he concentrated and his horrible habit of biting his pen, Sungjong looked beautiful to him. 
  Because he was Sungjong, the one that managed to break through his walls, the one that he loved. 

---------------

  Loneliness. He hadn't noticed it at first. It trailed him from afar, watching; waiting for the perfect moment. It approached gradually with slow, careful steps. It had sneaked up on him, like a hunter on its prey. 
  And then, as rapid as it was slow in its approach, it engulfed him in a suffocating hug, overwhelming him. Some of it seeped through his skin, dispersing in his bloodstream and making its way to his heart. 
  It fought a war with an obvious upper hand, and claimed his heart its domain, reigning with a wicked grin. 
  There, he ordered feelings into exile and some it slaughtered. It ordered its minions to build walls as tall and sturdy as the longest in Asia. 
  It shot down feelings that tried to get in, watching in triumph as they would quickly leave. 
  It did this all while aware of the pain and suffering  the place he occupied felt. He took pleasure in it, the poor guy's cries. Yet the boy did not have the strength to push it out. Not when on the outside, some parts of it was the only thing holding him together. 
-----
  But Loneliness had gotten complacent. He was so used to feelings just simply leaving at the slightest resistance. Yet, he knew not of the opposite of him, didn't know there was even one. 
  It was as powerful as him, and had punched through the walls with its iron fist. It brought minions with it, and a full out battle ensued for days, both equally matched. 
  But Loneliness lost. It fell, bleeding to the floor, while the other feeling stood triumphantly. 
  Love had won. 

A/N: Hahah😅 I don't even know about this🙈