If Myungsoo were to compare Sungjong to anything, he would probably blurt "the wind" without a second thought. That is, if you could coax him to say anything at all (many would argue you had quite the shot, considering the topic at hand.) Yes, to Myungsoo, Sungjong was the wind. He breezed through his life; softly, sometimes forcefully, but always with ease. He could rustle a few feathers, as any good gust can; but he always had the power to pat them back into place, if he simply changed course. He was loud and, much like the wind whistling through a forest, he encouraged those around him to be loud too; stirring up the branches of those surrounding him until their leaves rustled in a green symphony. He spoke without inhibition; never apologising for who he was or what he stood for. He managed to nudge Myungsoo this way and that, no matter how hard he tried to shy away. He jumbled up his mind frantically until Myungsoo's thoughts settled light and fluffy as candy floss; a sweetened aftertaste of simple, pure Sungjong. Yet, when he was gone, Myungsoo was left pondering: "Where is that wind today? It's awfully sunny; we could do with a nice, cooling breeze."

 

If Sungjong were to compare Myungsoo to anything (and, honestly, he had quite a lot to say on the matter) he would probably snicker something about "the earth." Constant, unchanging, sometimes even stoic, Myungsoo liked routine and precision; a taciturn man with loud thoughts but sealed lips. That's why Myungsoo and Sungjong, Sungjong and Myungsoo... Why them, together, whatever they were, was so surprising.  But the man of little words often thought that it was a case of yin and yang; of balance. Furthermore,  his loquacious partner would agree... after a few minutes of babble that is. But Myungsoo figures, if both the earth and the wind can finally agree on something, then it simply must be true.