Listen to 'To Build a Home' by the Cinematic Orchestra while reading. 

http://youtu.be/6PJ0Oxjc1v4

I don't know what brought us together, really. Sometimes, I wonder where I would be if we hadn't met. Most likely still locked up in my apartment, not living life. He somehow convinced me to leave my comfy cave into the biting cold Winter air. If it weren't for him, I would have froze. He gave me the warmth and love that I had never received. Even when he left me, it was still with me, burning brightly in my heart. 

It was five years ago, in a small, secluded coffee shop in the middle of Autumn. I had often gone there to work on my writing. Every time, I would order black coffee and sit in the same spot; In fact, I frequented so often that the owner had reserved the seat for me. 

The sun filtered a soft light through the window, creating shadows behind my dainty mug. Set on each table was a pumpkin scented candle, flame flickering in its captivity. I watched it intently, twirling a pen between my middle and forefinger, trying to get some idea. Ever since I had read Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol in 5th grade, I had dreamed of being a famous author. Finally, I had the chance after a few years of posing online, I was offered publication. 

As you would imagine, I was ecstatic and I couldn't believe my ears! The only problem was that I had hit a hard brick wall that stopped the flow of imagination. It's not like I could just climb over it, and I definitely wouldn't go around it. That would be the lazy way out. So, I continuously pounded on that brick wall until I was unable feel my hands. 

He sat down in front of me, coffee mug set directly in front of him, a warm smile played across his lips. I had no idea why he was sitting there; I didn't even know who he was. Self-consciously, I fixed my hair and coughed awkwardly. He had soft blond hair and a sharp jawline. When he smiled, his brown eyes turned into crescent moons. He was the definition of perfect. 

An uncomfortable silence settled itself contently between us, not exactly willing to leave. Silently, he sipped his light brown coffee, occasionally glancing at me. Being the stubborn person I am, I wasn't going to be the first to make "small talk." 
"Are you going to drink that?" He pointed to my depressing black coffee, and I shook my head. "Mind if I...?"
"G-go right ahead." I pushed the mug over with my pen, watching as he poured some cream into it, turning it the same light brown color his was, and a spoonful of sugar. I was never a fan of sweet, sugary things. It was too much for my bitter personality to handle. 

An hour went by, I had nothing on my paper, and I sat uncomfortably under the curious eyes of this stranger. Oh how badly I wanted him to leave and say, "I have something to attend to." But of course, he didn't; he just smiled at me, hands lightly clasped. 

Another hour, my progress from a few hours back went from 0% to 0%. This guy was making me unable to write and he wouldn't leave like a normal person was after two hours. 

By this time, it had gotten quite dark outside and there was scarcely anyone in the café anymore, not including the employees. I coughed awkwardly and started packing my things into my computer back. The stranger continued to watch me, a look of curiosity in his chocolate brown orbs, better known as eyes. 

Before I left, I always bade the employees goodbye who waved back. I bet they were happy to have a frequent. Just as I was opening the door, the stranger gently caught my wrist. I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. Now, I was getting scared. This weird guy had sat in front of me, while I was minding my own business, for two whole straight hours. Of course I'd start to get creeped out. 

"Please let go." I asked, desperate to leave. 
"Can I see you tomorrow?" He asked, letting go of my wrist and rubbing his neck awkwardly. 
"I don't know." I pursed my lips and left the café without looking back. I just wanted to get home, a place without people. 

I always hated public. Too many bodies that pressed against me and some didn't have he most... desirable scent. In fact, ever since I was younger, I hadn't been very social. Mainly it was because of language barriers between Korean and Mandarin, but once I had fully learned the language, I never had the chance to use it. 

When I had gotten my first cell phone in 6th grade, I only ever had two contacts; my mom and dad. I had other relatives, but I had never met any of them. Pretty sad, huh? 

So, you can see why I hate being around people. I'm not used to it. It was as thought I was being tossed into a foreign country all over again. Never ever had it stated, in the rules of my little world, that I had to mingle with people. In fact, rule number one was to only talk when necessary. 

It was clear I had broken that rule that day. I had talked to that stranger with perfect features. If felt so unnatural to use the vocal cords I was born with. 

The next day, I had contemplated on whether going back to the café was a smart idea. The stranger wanted to meet me, and although I was socially challenged, I was raised to always meet one's needs and selfish desires. Even if it killed me. 

So, I slung the tattered computer bag over my shoulder, locking the door, and set off for the café. It was very convenient that it was only a few blocks away. I would have never gone there if it were any further. I wouldn't be able to deal with the amount of people. 

At my little table in the corner, he sat, resting his perfect chin on his perfect hands, and he looked quite down. When he saw me, his mood immediately picked up and he smiled. I sighed and made my way over to the table, giving the cashier a curt nod in which he went to the back to retrieve something. 

When I sat down, he lifted his hands to his face and covered his cheeks, smiling slightly. At first, I had no idea what in the Heavens he was doing, but then I realized, he was trying to hide a blush. 
"Are you a writer?" He asked, pointing to my bag. I nodded and waited for my usual black coffee. The waitress set the steaming mug in front of me and sent me a questioning look. She wanted to know why I was sitting with someone. Really, I didn't know myself, so I merely shrugged. 

Today, it wasn't like the other day. Sehun, was his name, had asked me many yes or no questions. I appreciated that he didn't try to engage me in a full conversation. I hated conversations. Thinking up something to say right on the fly was my worst nightmare. Aside from heights, that is. 

In fact, he even gave me a start on my story, which I was absolutely grateful for. He suggested that I write about a girl who lost her brother through adoption and was determined to find him after she was told when she was 8. It was a perfect plot. Just my type of story, and it was relatively easy to write the first event. 

At 8 o'clock, I thanked him and again, he asked if he could see me the next day. I answered with a maybe and left. Although at the time, I didn't want to admit it, but I thoroughly enjoyed his company. It was quiet, calm, and not forced. That's exactly what I wanted. 

The next few weeks, I met up with Sehun at the café, occasionally giving him full sentences. At first, I was quite reluctant to speak. It was usually a one sided conversation with a few nods or shaking of my head. In those weeks, I knew much more about him. 

Sehun, like me, was an only child, and played many instruments. When he was younger, he was homeschooled, but when he was only 12, he was put into a middle school instead of 6th grade. He was ahead of his grade since he was tutored by some of the best professors. Though, with his laid back personality, the 7th graders accepted him and he had many friends. 

I had told him my past too, and he said he was happy that he was the closest thing I had to a friend. For the first time, I felt happy and content with someone other than my family. It was a ginormous step for me. That day, I thought, maybe I could warm up to him... Just maybe. 

Everyday I visited the café, he was always sitting in the same place. Sometimes, he would come late and I would always wonder if he would stop showing up. But, he never failed to visit the café. 

On December 24th, Sehun asked me out on a date. At first, I was stunned. In all my 24 years of living, I had never been offered a date. Then, I smiled and said, "of course." That day, it was as though my world had suddenly gotten brighter. Everything I saw was gleaming with happiness. For once, I was truly happy. 

On December 25th, Sehun and I shared our first kiss under mistletoe. It was absolutely magical and better than I expected it to be. His lips were soft and tasted like strawberries. The way our hands fit perfectly together, it seemed as though God wanted us to be together. 

When Spring rolled in, Sehun officially moved in with me. It seemed as though nothing could stop us. It was as though I was  on top of the world. 

April 12th was Sehun's 21st birthday. That day, I had no clue as of what to give him. As his boyfriend, I felt guilty. Good boyfriends would get their partner a gift, right? When I had told Sehun this, he smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered, "I only want you." His deep, seductive voice sent shivers down my back. 

On April 20th, I turned 25; I felt so old compared to my younger boyfriend. I even began to have doubts. What if he didn't want a boyfriend that was four years older? What if he just left me because I was "too old?" Of course, I shouldn't have worried. When I told him this, tears forming in my eyes, he put me on his lap and kissed me gently. He had said, "You worry too much, I'd never leave my XiaoLu." My heart fluttered at the use of my nickname that meant "little deer" in Chinese. 

May 20th was the day I sent my story to the publisher. We were so happy. The opportunity had come and if it weren't for Sehun, I would've missed it. I gave my life to him, his warm smile, perfect features, alluring voice, and comforting touch. I was his pearl and he was my oyster. 

August 17th was when we had our first fight. I hardly remember what it was, to be honest. That night, he had stormed out of the house, taking the car and I sat on the couch, crying and regretting everything I said. He had come back at 1 am, and I was still awake, curled up in a ball on the couch, waiting for him. When I had felt his arms around my waist, I burst into tears, apologizing for what I had said. He smiled and kissed me, saying that I was forgiven. After many apologies, mostly from me, he lifted me into our room and we slept, tangled in each other's arms. 

November 25th, I had noticed something odd about Sehun. He looked much paler than normal. I had asked him about it, but he just brushed it off as a headache. Thought, I knew it wasn't a headache. For a week, the rosy color in his cheeks had disappeared and the dark bags under his eyes became more prominent. I had gotten very worried, but each time, Sehun reassured me that it was just a headache. 

December 1st, Sehun began frequenting the doctor and I knew that he had been lying to me. I had no idea what was wrong, but I trusted that the doctor would take care of it. They usually do, right? The only thing I could do was sit and wait for Sehun to return from the doctor. 

Everyday after, he would lay in bed and look at the ceiling, a blank expression on his face. Whenever I had entered with breakfast, lunch, or dinner, he would force a smile. Usually, I would brush it off. All the time, he would pull me into bed next to him, saying that he would always love me. He even asked me, "will you always love me?" I had answered yes. How could I not? 

 That wasn't my smartest idea though. I shouldn't have been so blind to his condition. December 24th our one year anniversary, I had come back from the publisher with a box with copies of my new book. I was so excited to tell Sehun. He would be so proud of me, he would pull me into a hug, kiss me with his soft lips, and tell me he loved me forever and ever. That had also been the day God had planned to take my precious Sehun away from me. 

When I entered the house, it was unusually silent. 
"Sehun!" I called, getting more nervous by the second. "Sehun, I'm back from the publisher!" Carefully, I set the box down and walked to our shared room. The lights were off. Sehun usually has them on because he loves to read. "He's just sleeping," I thought to myself. 

When I opened the door, I called out his name lovingly.
"Sehunnie-" 
I stopped myself when I saw no one on our bed. The bed was nicely made and the room was all tidy, like usual. On the bed was a paper rose. 
"No, no, no." I said frantically. Hastily, I opened the rose.
Written in neat print was a note:

My dear XiaoLu, 
I'm going to the doctor today, I don't feel very good. I hope I can return home to greet you. If not, then please don't worry. God has taken me to a better place. I wish I could've spent my last moments with you, but fate isn't so nice all of the time. I just want you to know, I love you. I love you more than anything else. You were my life, my joy, my everything. I wish I could've held you in my arms and kissed you one last time. Promise me that you won't lock yourself in your own little world. Go out, meet another, but always remember me. I'll always watch over you.
I love you and I wish I could've said it more.
Your Sehunnie. 

I cried. I cried more than I ever had before. How could I go on without my Sehun to tell me that everything was ok? I couldn't just move on. He was my foundation, and when that disappeared, my whole world came tumbling down. 

For months, I stayed in my apartment, despite what Sehun had said. The café even called and asked it I was ok. I gave a weak "yes" and clicked the phone off. When my book was put into stores, the publisher called me to tell me that I had sold 1,000 copies and he wanted me to go to a fan sign. I had said no, for obvious reasons. 

April 12th, I finally unlocked my door and walked to the café. They were glad to see me again and gave me my usual black coffee. Sehun's birthday was the day I met the love of my life. 

Five years later, I'm living with him, Byun Baekhyun. He is my heart and soul, but Sehun is always my life. Sometimes, I reminisce about my time with Sehun. Baekhyun always listens quietly and then smiles, saying that he will try to make up for Sehun's absence. I had laughed and kissed him saying that I now had him and Sehun, although still a part of me, was the reason I had met him. Sehun was the reason I had become a famous author. Sehun was the reason for all of this. 
The day I met Baekhyun was the day of Sehun's birthday, another sad reminder of him, though I think I'll save that story for next time. 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this oneshot. Sad, I know. I would appreciate constructive criticism if needed.