it's would be all woohyun's p.o.v. enjoy to read ^^

        Every afternoon when I came on duty as the evening nurse, I would walk the halls of the nursing home, pausing at each door to chat and observe. Often, Sungyeol and Myungsoo would be sitting with their big scrapbooks in their laps and reminiscing over the photographs.

        Proudly, Sungyeol showed me pictures of them: Myungsoo tall, black hair and handsome; Sungyeol cute, brown-haired and laughing. Two young lovers smilling through the passing seasons. How lovely they looked, sitting together the light from the window shining their hairs, their faces smiling at the memory of the years, caught and held forever in the scrapbooks.

How little the young know of loving, I'd think. How foolish to think they have a monopoly on such a precious comodity. The old know what loving truly means; the young can only guess.

       As the staff members ate their evening meal, sometimes Sungyeol and Myungsoo, holding hands would walk slowly by the dining room doors. Then the conversation would turn to a discussion of couple's love and devotion, and what would happen when one of them died. We all knew Myungsoo was the strong one, and Sungyeol was dependent upon him.

How would Sungyeol function if Myungsoo were to die first? We often wondered.

Bedtime followed a ritual. When I brought the evening medication, Sungyeol would be sitting in his chair, in pajamas and slippers, awaiting my arrival. Under Myungsoo's and my watchful eyes, Sungyeol would take his pill. Then very carefully Myungsoo would help him from chair to bed and tuck the covers around his body.

      Observing this act of love, I would think for the thousandth time, Good heavens, why don't nursing homes have double beds for married couples? All their lives they have slept together, but in a nursing home, they're expected to sleep in single beds. Overnight they're deprived of a comfort of lifetime.

How very foolish such policies are, I would think as I watched Myungsoo reach up and turn off the light above Sungyeol's bed. Then tenderly he would bend, and they would kiss gently. Myungsoo would pat his cheek, and both would smile.

      He would pull up the side rail on Sungyeol's bed, and only then would he turn and accept his own medication. As I walked into the hall, I could hear Myungsoo say, "Good-night, Yeollie," and his returning voice, " Good-night, Myungie," while the space of an entire room separated their two beds.

                             |       |       |         |         |        |           |            |         |        |       |

   I had been off duty two days. When I returned, the first news I heard after walking through the nursing home was, "Myungsoo died yesterday morning."

"How?"

"A massive heart attack. It happened quickly."

"How's Sungyeol?"

"Bad"

     I went into Sungyeol's room. He sat in his chair, motionless, hands in his lap, staring. Taking his hands in mine, I said, "Sungyeol, it's Woohyun."

     His eyes never shifted; he only stared. I placed my hand under his chin and slowly turned his head so he had to look at me.

"Sungyeol, I just found out about Myungsoo. I'm so sorry."

    At the word "Myungsoo," his eyes came back to life. He stared at me, puzzled, as though wondering how I had suddenly appeared. "Sungyeol, it's me, Woohyun. I'm so sorry about Myungsoo." 

   Recognition and remembrance flooded his face. Tears welled up and slid down his cheeks. "Myungsoo is gone," he whispered.

"I know," I said. "I know."

   We pampered Sungyeol for a while, letting him eat in his room, surrounding him with special attention. Then gradually the staff worked his back into the old schedule. often, as I passed his room, I would observe Sungyeol sitting in his chair, scrapbook on his lap, gazing sadly at pictures of Myungsoo.

   Bedtime was the worst part of his day. Although he had beeen granted his request to move from his bed to Myungsoo's bed, and although the staff chatted and laughed with him as they tucked him in for the night, still Sungyeol remained silent and sadly withdrawn. Passing his room an hour after he had been tucked in, I'd find him wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

    The weeks passed, and the bedtime wasn't any better. Sungyeol seemed so restless, so insecured. Why? I wondered. Why this time of day more than the other hours?

    Then one night as I walked into his room, only to find the same wide-awake Sungyeol, I said impulsively, "Sungyeol, could it be you miss your good-night kiss?" Bending down, I kissed his cheek.

    It was as though I had opened the floodgates. Tears coursed down his face, his hands gripped mine. "Myungie always kissed me good-night," he cried.

"I know," I whispered.

"I miss him so, all those years he kissed me good-night."

He paused while I wiped the tears. "I just can't seem to go to sleep without his kiss."

     He looked up at me,  his eyes b with gratitude.

" Oh, thank you for giving me a kiss."

    A small smile turned up the corners of Sungyeol"s lip.

"You know," he said confidentially, " Myungsoo used to sing me a song."

"He did?"

"Yes," his head noded, "and I lie here at night and think about it."

"How did it go?"

     Sungyeol smiled, held my hand and cleared his throat. Then his voice, small but still melodious, lifted softly in song:

                 So kiss me, my sweet, and so let us part.

          And when I grow too old to dream,

          that kiss will live in my heart.

                                                                                                      |THE END|                                                                                                              

SO THAT IS THE ENDING.. T_T

I'M SORRY FOR LETTING MYUNGSOO DYING..

I IMAGING BOTH MYUNGSOO AND SUNGYEOL HAD MARRIED FOR MANY YEARS...

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