“I guess this is goodbye then,” Yixing’s voice was hushed in the silence of the home he lived in. The place he formally lived in. “There really isn’t anything we can do huh? We’re so messed up.” his laugh was dry and bitter, and every one of the few seconds he took to chuckle made Joon Myun die inside.

This separation pained him, but there was nothing he could do. He, in comparison to Yixing was a dusty stone and Yixing shone like a diamond. To Joon Myun, this difference made Yixing question everything Joon Myun did, why he dressed like that, why his hair was up instead of flat, why he wanted to go out… the list went on.

It was goodbye now. The sound of rain was tapping against the large windows as if demanding for attention. The sound of rain, the rain itself was Yixing’s love. That was the only thing Joon Myun had managed to question. But even then he was never given a proper answer; only just the shrug, and the attentive gaze to the window, watching each rain drop slide down the window gracefully.

Joon Myun had to pretend he didn’t hurt inside.

“Goodbye, Yixing.” he whispered, trying to hide the love that he still felt for the said male. He bent his head low, and willed himself not to cry. It was his fault for not keeping Yixing happy. He could have done more, but he didn’t know how to.

“Goodbye, Kim Joon Myun.” Yixing looked away, as he took his last suitcase, and shut the door almost silently behind him. Joon Myun was left alone in their formerly beautiful apartment. With half of itself gone, the memories, the clothes, the belongings, it was no longer beautiful in Joon Myun’s eyes.

Through the day he sat by himself sobbing quietly, his being empty without Yixing. Joon Myun had begun to think he was delirious. He was missing someone who probably felt free because now he didn’t have to worry for Joon Myun.

Blindly, he traced the seat on the sofa previously reserved for Yixing only. His glossy eyes scanned the room, finding the kitchen table and imagining Yixing sitting with his large black glasses on and laptop in front of him as his fingers attacked the keyboard without even a second glance.

Outside the wind blew, howling, expressing Joon Myun’s pain. Their past photos were placed everywhere, as if on purpose. As if it was meant to drive him crazy.

He laughed to himself. Tears spilling from his eyes, as he laughed at his insanity. It took him a few moments to let the pain sink once more, and he started sobbing fresh tears. Curled up on the sofa, Joon Myun tried to fall asleep.

It was beginning to get late. This was always when Yixing the radio. He used to say that it was because stuff on TV was terrible at this time. Joon Myun felt it was for another reason that remained unknown. They always used Joon Myun’s phone though. His phone had better reception, said Yixing. It had been a while since Joon Myun had stopped caring.

He picked up his phone gingerly - even that, held memories. He remembered when Yixing used to always pick Joon Myun’s phone out of his pocket, and it always used to make him giggle giddily. He remembered when Yixing told Joon Myun the code to his phone, and vice versa.

That was their history together. Now, Joon Myun turned to the familiar radio station, and nostalgic music filled his ears. Joon Myun could only think how ironic it was, and how perfect the music was for thinking about Yixing.

He faced the TV, the coffee table in front of him, newspapers by the side, and two empty cups of coffee from the day before. He was forced to fight with the loneliness now that Yixing was gone. He was left to stare at everything blankly.

Suddenly, Joon Myun found himself smacking his phone screen, shutting up the radio. He forced himself up from the sofa, and into his bedroom. He couldn’t even look at anything in the room without remembering everything he and Yixing used to do. He gave himself up for Yixing.

His hand clasped over his mouth, he his heel, and smacked his back against the ivory coloured wall of his hallway. He dropped to the floor like a block of lead falling in water, glancing up to the ceiling with -once again- tears.

He woke up the next morning with a start, more rain than the day before. He ached for Yixing. With a pain in his spine, he stretched like he would any other morning; washed like he would any other morning; dressed himself like he would any other morning. His outfit was simple, like any other morning, with a pair of black skinny jeans and a faded navy blue shirt and his rain coat on, his full wallet in his pocket, his hand clasping the bottom of the handle of the black umbrella. He shoved his feet into warm boots, and made sure his phone was safe in his other pocket.

Joon Myun soon found himself out of the safety of his home and to the brutality of the outdoors. He shivered at the intense breeze and the cold of the never ending rain. Soon, he was walking the streets alone, and empty. He entered the café that he and Yixing used to go to all the time, leaving with a cup of coffee full of memories. His coffee was Yixing’s favourite, mocha latte. Throwing away the cardboard, he fooled himself that he would be fine if he went for a movie to keep his mind off things.

As the day continued, Joon Myun was only sinking deeper and deeper into the –what should be- locked up memories. He found himself wandering into Yixing’s favourite store, buying a shirt that was in the same style Yixing would’ve worn, and wondering if Yixing was drowning in memories like he was.

Even though he felt like he already knew the answer, Joon Myun still asked the question to himself. It would have been a heart wrenching site for anyone who didn't know him to encounter.

He was outside once more, his hand extended into the rain. He wished to remember everything. He wondered if he would. Sadly, he knew he wouldn’t. This was another thing Joon Myun hated. He hated knowing the answer to each of his questions.

But, he didn’t want to let Yixing go. He didn’t want to forget the definition of perfection like an old black and white movie. He just couldn’t.

Shaking his head profusely, Joon Myun sped home. If he was going to lock himself in the memories, he may as well do some of it properly. Fumbling with his lock, he turned it, and tumbled into his living room. His eyes in the happy images of him and Yixing.

He sighed, the tears no longer falling. Scrambling to his feet, he stripped himself of his jacket and hung it by the radiator he decided that he may as well have a dry jacket each time it rains. He glanced out of the window. It looked like the rain wasn’t going to end.

Joon Myun seated himself on his seat on the sofa, and listened to the rain. He could almost hear Yixing, whispering… whispering sweet words like he used to at the beginning of their relationship. His lip quivered, and he curled into a ball on the sofa, drowning out the sound of rain with his loud sobs.

That night he fell asleep on the sofa. Funnily enough, the sound of rain comforted him. He pretended it was Yixing, and the tears that followed after worked in harmonisation. Did Yixing have a clue how Joon Myun was feeling? Did he know all the pain Joon Myun went through just for him?

He woke up in the morning, his eyes slightly swollen, puffy and a tinge of pink. Joon Myun didn’t cry hard, he just did so loudly. He wanted to make sure his feelings for Yixing were still there.

The male ran a hand through his dark hair, and showered. He pulled on the shirt that Yixing got for him, and seated himself back onto the sofa, this time, a note book and pencil in his hands. He was never skilled at art, compared to Yixing who seemed to have photographic memory. This didn’t dishearten him from trying though.

His eyes swiftly glanced at the image, and the pencil in his hands. He let the pencil flow freely onto the paper of the notebook.  He forced his head to look at the paper, and the image he had drawn disappeared with his many tears. He was scared to draw Yixing again. What if he couldn’t erase him?

A week later, Joon Myun found himself outside. Yixing’s old red umbrella clasped. Although, strangely it wasn’t open for his use. He let himself get drenched in the rain, before squelching loudly back into his apartment building, his clothes were clinging to his now deathly pale skin like a second. He stripped of his clothes and the boiler. His trainers too, were sodden.

Joon Myun forgot to eat again, he was too busy wondering if it was natural to feel this way, or not. He sat on the edge of his bed, only coming to terms with it a day or so before. He let himself drown in the questions as to why he let Yixing leave.

He remembered that it was a rainy day when he met Yixing. He remembered when Yixing entered the café that Joon Myun used to work at, completely drenched, but smiling. Rain was one of the things he loved wasn’t it? He remembered the upcoming weeks, months, year… the hardships they went through, good times they shared.

To Joon Myun, it felt like the two didn’t have to separate.

And with that fact, his face crumpled as he sobbed fresh tears. This time, a pain in his chest, reminding him that he had lost him.

From the beginning, Joon Myun had thought of Yixing so dearly, relishing every kiss, every moment they shared. Yixing belonged in the left side of Joon Myun’s heart. Now he was gone, but he was still there. Broken, carved into Joon Myun’s heart. Yixing had made Joon Myun fall hard.

Joon Myun sobbed harder. He saying that he could live without Yixing was a lie. He said he threw away his feelings, but in reality every night as he fell asleep his heart yearned for Yixing’s touch. Tonight, it was raining, and now he couldn’t fall asleep.

He listened to the rain once more, pretending it was Yixing. It happened every night it rained. Joon Myun pretended it was Yixing whispering words of comfort, and eventually, he knew, he would fall asleep. He wished Yixing could know. He wanted Yixing to know that he was still being thought of.

More days flew by, fast.

He prayed that the sky would stop punishing him like this. So he could stop thinking about Yixing. He sat on the window sill, watching the rain. He listened to the rain intently, remembering his happy memories.

Every rainy day, he would miss Yixing, and he would miss their soft touches.

Every rainy day he would remember all the happy memories.

Every rainy day, he would always run into a happy Yixing who belonged only in his imagination.

He sat in the park, on the bench, alone. It was raining again, not that Joon Myun minded anymore. In fact, he had come to terms with it, constantly silently wishing the skies would suddenly open up and it would be sunny.

At first lost in his own imagination, he suddenly snapped into recognition as to where he was, and the fact that he couldn’t feel rain dripping into the back of his shirt, and soaking him to the bone. Curious, he looked up to the skies, only to find a bright white umbrella obscuring his view. He frowned, and moved his head from under the umbrella, unsurprised that it was still raining.

“You’ll get sick if you stay out in the rain like this.” A deep, gravelly voice called to him, next to him to be more precise. Joon Myun’s head snapped to his right, and he found a handsome looking at him sternly. Joon Myun could just pick out healthy skin, thick dark eyebrows, matching the mop of dark brown softness on his scalp and a figure donning a white jacket, underneath and sharing the umbrella that Joon Myun was under.

“What does it matter?” Joon Myun replied, softly. Thinking it was too soft for the man to hear, he added even more quietly, “I have nothing else… He always liked rain.”

“I guess we are on the same square, although mine… He hated it.” The male next to him chuckled darkly. “I mean, my ex hated rain.”

Joon Myun was surprised that this stranger spoke to him so easily. What surprised him even more was the fact the stranger told him his secret without making a fuss. In comparison to Joon Myun, who now felt like a down right drama queen. “How long ago?” he mustered, after a few moments.

“Long enough.” The man replied, gazing intently at Joon Myun. “I’ve lost count.” The man let out a dry laugh that drilled bitterly into Joon Myun’s core.

“So we are on the same square.” The said male sighed.  “I’m Joon Myun.”

“Wu Yi Fan, but I get my friends to go by Kris.” The now acquainted male smiled, but somehow it didn’t reach his eyes, and this made Joon Myun’s heart drop like lead. “It’s nice to meet you Joon Myun.”

“It’s very nice to meet you too, especially with weather like this.” The latter answered back, a small smile finally sitting on his face.

“Now, I say why don’t we go inside and dry off so we can get to know each other more?” Kris suggested, this time with a genuine smile, and Joon Myun accepted it graciously. “Coffee?” Joon Myun nodded like a little child.

“Good, because we were going whether you liked it or not.” Kris’ grinned, standing up and bringing Joon Myun with him.

And even though it was difficult, even though he had suffered- that didn’t matter, what did was obvious.

Joon Myun smiled.