Minseok doesn't know how long he's been toiling away with his tools, but he figures far too long when he has to stifle a yawn with the back of his hand and his vision blurs momentarily. He sighs, turning off the blowtorch and pushing his goggles away from his eyes, setting them on his forehead. It's already quite dark outside, light from the street lamps flooding through his workspace from the large windows of his shop. The crickets are cacophonous outside, fireflies alight in the dark. The dog barks from the wheat sellers down the road, echoes ringing down the street for yards.

His shoulders hunch, and he feels the energy seep fast from his body. It takes him over fast so he folds his arms over his workbench and presses his eyes to the creases of his elbow, hoping to block out the red glowing light of the broken heart he's fixing.

His eyes are just about to shut when he hears the soft pad of footsteps. His head is suddenly ten pounds heavier and he really isn't willing to lift it up and take a look. Sleep is so tempting, caressing his eyelids closed, letting the tension leak from his body and beckoning him into the darkness.

In and out, he breathes. The scent of his workshop, of smoke and sweat, comes tapering through his nose. His workshop could use a bit of spring cleaning, even if he could never find the time for it with the amount of broken hearts he's got tallied up to repair.

"Minseok," comes the whisper, so faint in his ear, but comes clearer as it's repeated and the hand at his back is trying to shake him awake. He doesn't want it, just a few more minutes with his eyes closed; he just needs a short break and he'll get right back to work.

He hears the clank of a cup hitting the hard wood of his table, just next to his head. Then the heat radiates to his arm and the smell of sweet tea beckons him awake for just a little longer. "Minseok," the call comes again. He finally raises his head, groaning as his elbow pops and leaves his entire arm feeling boneless.

"Yeah, no, I'm awake," he mutters, eyes half open but hands already going for the tea. The cup is warm in his hands but the hot tea burns as it slides down his throat, scorching in his stomach. He cringes, and judging by the familiar laughter, it must look funny with his half open eyes and the faded lines of his goggles on his cheeks and forehead.

His bench creaks and he feels a rush of warm air around him. Jongin, his live in coworker, sets a comforting hand on his back, rubbing circles. He could fall asleep like that instantaneously if Jongin would let him sleep at his workbench. "Come on, it's time for sleep," he whispers, gently pulling the goggles from Minseok's forehead and setting it on the table. Minseok lifts his eyes from his tea and catches the concern written in the lines of Jongin's face, in the laughter creases beside his eyes. But his eyes turn back to the glowing heart in its stand, nearly finished with only a few remaining pieces to add and alter.

He takes in a huge gulp of tea and sets the cup back down on the table. "I'm nearly finished, Jongin. I've just got a few more things left to fix and then I'll head to bed," he says. His hands are already reaching back for his goggles before his vision blurs and they're swept from right under his palm.

Jongin looks at him seriously. "No means no, Minseok. It's already so late, I'm sure the neighbor's rooster will be crowing any minute now."

Minseok notes that Jongin's already in his night clothes, rumpled from his tossing and turning in bed. His hair sticks up in all directions, though not like it changes much by the time he sets up behind the front desk and helps take in smaller orders.

Jongin is intent on getting him to bed today, there's no use pushing it. Grudgingly, he takes the heart and sets it into a cubby in the wall, being careful not to let himself trip with the sudden wave of sleepiness that overtakes him. Jongin's warm hand pressing against his back keeps him awake enough to make it to the bedroom and shed his clothes before crawling into bed and sinking into the mattress.

He's asleep in moments, letting the calm, even beating of his own heart lull him into a dreamless sleep.












He feels a lot better the next morning, warm coffee in his hands and a bagel filling up the empty space of his stomach. His eye bags feel heavy on his face though, maybe he should sleep like Jongin tells him to. But there is so much work to do, so many hearts to fix, for being the only Heartsmith for miles.

He walks in through the back, smiling at how warm the shop feels with sunlight carpeting the ground. Jongin looks up from the front counter, a smile pleasantly on his face and teeth gleaming. "Morning," he says, stepping from behind the counter and leaning back against the register.

Minseok nods in his direction, setting his coffee and bagel down on the table and sliding his work apron over his head. He picks up his goggles, enjoying the familiar weight on his head, before pulling the heart back out from last night and heading back to his work table.

"Whose is that?" Jongin asks, sauntering over the work table and peering curiously at the glow the heart casts on the table- a deep, warm red.

Minseok thinks back a moment, running through order lists in his head. "A child, a little girl named Liyin. She fell out of a tree, breaking her arm, and her mother wanted me to fix the Fear in her heart."

Jongin nods, ruffling his unruly hair and pacing around the table. There won't be customers for a while, most of them coming in after work hours are over. "But aren't those the kinds of things people have to get over themselves?"

"Normally, yes," he replies, smoothing down his work apron and pulling out the blowtorch. "But her mother said it was quite serious. Liyin started having recurrent night terrors and her mother was starting to have a difficult time getting her out of the house. It was getting to an extremely unreasonable level."

Minseok doesn't look up to see Jongin's intent gaze on him. He's already got the blowtorch going, the pleasant buzz of heat crackling calming him as he works. It doesn't take much longer, he could've easily finished this last night. But there's still a piece missing. The heart is almost complete, but there's a small piece of Bravery missing. It's a small hole in the back, unnoticeable to untrained eyes, but Minseok can't send the heart back with it being incomplete.

He takes a deep breath, sits up straight, and closes his eyes. He concentrates, palms flat on his chest just over his heart, and waits to feel the painful tug. He grabs the pain and pulls his hands away from his chest, feeling the pain strengthen and pull a soft groan from his lips as it burns and pulses in his skin and veins. When his hands are completely outstretched in front of him, an instantaneous lightness floods his entire body, sending shockwaves of calm through every crevice. There's a strong heat pulsing in his hands, and when he opens his eyes, there is his heart.

It's smaller than he last remembers it to be, beating a bit weaker than when he last felt it in his palms. But the heat is still there, warmer and stronger than before, and he can't help the smile that crosses his face as he sets his heart in another stand and sets to taking out a piece of his own Bravery.

He's more used to it than he should be, taking out pieces of his own heart to fill in gaps in others'. But he never takes out too much of his own heart, never needing much of it anyway to finish up small holes in a customer's heart. It almost makes his work feel a little more special, setting a piece of himself in everyone else. His heart is strong, and if giving pieces of himself can make others happy again, then he's willing to do it.

He molds the last of Liyin's heart together before picking up his own and pushing it back into his chest. The ring of the door suddenly sounds in a customer.

"Welcome to Heart Maid, how can I help you?" Jongin greets from the counter. Miseok appears from the back room to find Liyin and her mother at the door, soft sunlight peeking in through the windows behind them. Liyin's light grey eyes sparkle in the reflection of the sun.

He smiles brightly, approaching with his hand outstretched to the mother. "I've just finished Liyin's heart. If you don't mind, I'll taker her to the back room for a minute."

Her mother nods, ushering Liyin over with reassuring words. The small girl looks up at her mom, unsure, cradling her casted arm close to her chest. She looks over to Minseok skeptically, but accepts his outstretched hand and follows him to the back room.

He sits her down in the spare seat, pulling the chair close to his workbench. "Are you ready?" he asks softly, smiling and patting her knee reassuringly. She nods slowly, running nervous fingers over her cast and smoothing out nonexistent creases in her dress.

Minseok removes her small heart from the stand, enjoying the tingle of heat in his hands from the red glow of her heart. "Close your eyes and hold on to my arm. You can squeeze it if it gets too painful, alright?"

Liyin's hand is shaking when it comes to weakly grip his forearm, and that worries him a little. He grasps her small hand for a moment and squeezes. "There's nothing to be scared of," he whispers. "All princesses need to have their hearts back, right?"

Liyin swallows, looking back down at her arm. "But what if I get scared again? What if it really hurts me again?"

Minseok struggles to pull thoughts together for an answer, but he finds it in a small hole in his heart where a bit of Bravery used to be. "Your heart may hurt again, I can't fix everything, but I'll let you in on a little secret." He bends down close to her ear, cheek pressing against her hair. "I put a little of myself in there, and I'm not scared of anything, not one thing in this entire world frightens me. So if you get scared again, just think about that little piece of you that isn't scared of anything- it'll chase away everything scary."

She looks skeptical, but her hands have stopped shaking. She takes a firmer grip on his forearm, closes her eyes, and nods when she's ready. With a gentle push of his hands, Minseok sets the heart back into her chest.

Her body sags afterwards, unused tot he heavy weight back where it belongs. But when she sits back up with heavy eyes and a yawn, she's got a smile back on her face and her beautiful brown eyes have come back. The fear is gone for now, and she finally looks like how carefree children should be.

Just as her head bobs and she drifts to sleep, Minseok picks her up in his arms, pressing her cheek against his shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist. He carefully walks back out to the front room where her mother is waiting, a cup of tea in her hands and a smile suddenly blooming when she sees her daughter asleep with a smile on her face.

"I don't think I could ever thank you enough," she says. She takes Liyin from Minseok's arms and looks at him with such gratefulness in her eyes that she could never explain in words. Minseok understands though.

He smiles, softly patting Liyin's back as she sleeps. "Don't mention it. I'm just doing my job."

The door rings again when she leaves. Minseok has this giddy smile on his face, his heart beats heavy in his chest. It's one of his favorite things to be able to help people like this, even if it takes more out of him than he admits.

Jongin's snickering behind the counter, startling Minseok out of his daze. "What's so funny?"

"The look on your face is so endearing," Jongin says, a trick of the light dusting pink on his tan, full cheeks. "I just wish I could capture the moment."

Minseok scoffs, hands desperately searching for his coffee again. He takes a sip, and even though it's gone cold and tastes like liquified dirt in his mouth, he downs the rest of it. His heart is beating too hard in his chest that it's deafening to his ears. Taking it out has already tired him out so early in the day.

"Get back to work, punk," he mutters into his coffee, quickly ducking back into his workspace and setting on reorganizing his tools and cleaning up the dust collecting in the smallest crevices of his workspace.

Jongin just chuckles from the counter, welcoming the next customer in with a warm smile and flushed cheeks.












Hearts are fragile things, Minseok's come to learn. He hasn't been in the business long, but he'd taken over the shop after his father had retired four years ago, just when they'd hired Jongin and allowed him to take the spare room in the back of the shop to sleep in.

Minseok remembers the times when he'd come watch his father at work, wide eyes entranced by the red glow of the heart and hands just itching to hold it. His father would scold him if he tried to pick up the heart, saying he wasn't old enough to handle it yet. Hearts are fragile, his father would say, carefully holding a heart so broken it looked like it would crumble with a simple puff of the wind.

"Why do hearts break?" he'd ask, legs kicking back and forth on the spare chair near the workbench. His father pulled away from his work, pushed his goggles up to to rest them on his sweaty forehead, and pull Minseok into his lap.

There are many reasons why a heart would break. People get scared, they cry, they feel sorrow and guilt and anger in their hearts to a level their minds cannot handle. The world can be cruel, and sometimes, people don't have hearts strong enough to carry the burden that is life. Hearts themselves are heavy burdens to carry, but they provide happiness, love, and excitement that would be a shame to be unable to feel. Our hearts are our soul and our mind, and that's why they haves to be fixed sometimes when they're broken.

And so, it's his job to make those hearts strong again, to let people feel happiness and passion and love. Even if he hast to push himself to his limits, take away parts of himself, he just wants people to be happy. And though he doesn't know what it means to hold a broken heart in his hands, so broken that anything could make it crumble, he does know that things get better. 

They always do eventually.












The orders have slowed down a bit, a lapse in repairs with the coming of spring. Jongin takes a seat across from Minseok, handing him his usual morning coffee and taking a sip from his own. His warm, brown eyes glimmer in the sunlight, tan skin warm like summer though the season hasn't arrived. Minseok can't help but smile as they sit in pleasant silence as he works. His repair is almost finished, a heart brought in with the smallest of cracks traveling deep into the heart. A boy named Sehun, suffering from depression, had brought it in with a sad smile and dull eyes. But the heart is fixed now, even if Minseok had to put in a little of himself there behind Jongin's back.

(He knows how Jongin hates watching him give up pieces of himself to others. Jongin can't understand the pain without having done it himself, but he knows how much it hurts Minseok. That alone is enough to make him hate Minseok's job just a little.)

The bell rings, and Minseok expects to see Sehun shuffle through the door. The person shuffling through the door is not Sehun. His stomach flips.

"Luhan."

The man smiles from the doorway, shedding his hat and light jacket. Luhan's face hasn't changed a bit, boyish features with bright eyes and long lashes. He's still got a warm, red hue to his cheeks and his smile is just as blindingly bright.

"Hi, Minseok. Long time no see," he greets, taking off his beanie and ruffling his hair. It's black now, like the deepest black of midnight, not brown like Minseok remembers. There are a lot of things about the Luhan here now that Minseok doesn't remember. There's a paler complexion to his face, he's taller, and there's a flashy golden watch adorning his wrist.

Minseok's heart is fluttering in his chest, plummeting to his stomach and then flying up to his throat. It's been years, almost seven years since he'd last seen, or even heard from, Luhan. The blood starts rushing to his cheeks and he feels a dull spike of heat crawl from the base of his neck all the way down his spine. His palms are sweating, and he tries to hastily rub his shaky hands on his work apron.

"It's nice to see you again," he says. His voice is shaking in nervousness, and he can't help but let out an embarrassed laugh. Luhan laughs along with him, same light laughter as before. It's nice to see that it hasn't changed amongst other things. Minseok's always loved the sound of Luhan's laughter.

"I heard you're doing heart repairs now," he says. He takes in the shop from the tools and dust cluttered around the shop to Jongin who glares at him from the workbench.

Minseok nods. "What, you've got a job for me?" His heart is fluttering so hard, he just might vomit.

Luhan nods solemnly. "Yeah, actually." He puts his palms to his chest and closes his eyes. Minseok takes notice of the glint of a silver ring on his fourth finger, shiny, diamond studded, but simple. That's when his heart plummets so hard that it could've broken through the center of the earth.

Luhan pulls his heart from his chest with a sigh. There, in his outstretched palms, is a heart Minseok knows like his own. He still knows the beat that it pulses with like phantom thumps against his hands, similar to the beats of his own. He knows the heat it radiates and the red glow it gives off in his palms, how the red is deep like wine but still a little pink.

But there has never been a flaw in Luhan's heart. Not until now when he sees the pulsing heart in Luhan's hand with a crack splitting it almost completely straight through the middle. Branches of cracks like veins stem from fissure in the center out to the very edges of the heart.

He's never a seen a heart more broken than this. Luhan looks at him sympathetically. "I'm going to get married in a month, but my heart is no longer capable of loving," he whispers. He swallows thickly and takes a deep breath. "My fiancée deserves better than this."

Minseok suddenly takes in a deep breath; he'd forgotten to breathe for a moment. His tongue feels thick and dry in his mouth, as if dry, course cotton swabs had replaced it. His own heart is trembling in his chest, shrinking and compressing. "It's so damaged," is all he manages to say around the sickness festering in his stomach.

Luhan looks up at him with sudden surprise, eyes tinged with fear. "But you can fix it, can't you? Please, Minseok, please tell me you can fix it."

He's desperate, Minseok knows that tone of voice all too well. He turns back and sees Jongin discerning, almost scornful gaze on his back, but it doesn't do anything to dissuade him from his job.

"I can fix it," he sighs, holding Luhan's hands in his own. He smiles sadly as he feels his fingertips spark from the touch. "It'll take some time, but I can fix it."

Luhan's expression instantaneously brightens. He's happy, even his heart beating in his palms shows it. "Thank you, Minseok. A thousand times, thank you!"

He hurriedly pushes his heart into Minseok's hands, and the second his heart has left his hands, his eyes turn grey. Minseok swallows, feeling more sick than before. He's got a lot of work ahead of him and he really doesn't know when he'll be done. "Just drop by whenever you'd like, I don't know when I'll be done, but I'll update you with the process."

"Thank you, Minseok. Thank you," he whispers. His hands wring together over his chest and cling tight to his shirt. When he takes a look at his golden watch, he gets startled by the time. He throws his hat back over his head and tosses on his jacket.

"I'll have to leave now, but I'll drop by later this week," he says hurriedly. Minseok smiles solemnly, hoping it doesn't show as such. Though it isn't like Luhan would perceive the emotion anyway.

It's all too soon that he leaves, and Minseok feels frozen, like his palms are locked in fists and his heart is stilled in ice.

"Minseok?"

He looks back to Jongin and sighs, shakes his head, and slides his goggles over his forehead, hoping the scratchy lens masks his eyes.

Jongin, ever the skeptic, knows there's more. "Minseok, you can tell me anything," he says, warm and caring like a mother asks her children, a hand pressed comfortably at the small of his back as Minseok takes a seat at his workbench.

"I'll be fine, honestly." It doesn't sound very honest, it doesn't even sound remotely believable. But Jongin knows when to let it go and Minseok is thankful for at least that.

He sets Luhan's heart in the stand, eyes taking in the depth of the cracks in his heart and it feels like his own is being wrung out in his chest. It'll take a lot of work, he knows, but he'd promised Luhan he'd fix it. It'll get better, because things somehow do.












He's been working for days, though it feels even longer with how often he makes himself stop to breathe or when his tools tremble too much in his shaky hands. It's hard to focus when his own mind is in turmoil, in a distress his heart remembers but his mind has forgotten.

He'd loved Luhan. They'd grown up together and for years, he thought they were closer than brothers. He'd wanted them to be even more, but the fear of rejection kept him from saying anything. He didn't want to ruin what they had, not when it was so special and meant so much more than anything else. He couldn't let their friendship be thrown away with something like this.

So he'd bottled it up. He'd taken his feelings and shoved them in a cage, locked it, and threw away the key. But he knew no matter how far he threw the key or buried the cage, he couldn't lie. He, out of anyone, knew his own heart. He'd studied it, he knew every crevice and the name to every piece and no matter how many times his head could lie to his heart, he could never believe anything foolish lie his head could conceive about his feelings.

When Luhan had told him he was moving away, it had been easier to forget the feelings in his heart over the Sorrow of losing a bond that overpowered his head.

His scribe tool slips from his fingers and clatters onto the table. His hands are shaking again, and he lies again and says he has no more feelings. He can't have anymore feelings for Luhan. It has been too long and they've changed. His first love has long since moved on.

"Minseok?"

Jongin peeks through the door, once again clad in shorts and a sleep shirt. He hadn't realized how late it'd gotten with how drawn in he's been with Luahn's broken heart. But he isn't ready to stop yet.

Jongin doesn't have to say anything for him to know he'll be chastised again for not sleeping. He simply sighs, resting his goggles on his forehead and lets the drowsiness drape over his body over the table. The cool, wooden table helps his mind rest just a little easier.

He feels a familiar warm air rush around him and then a hand on his back slowly rubbing circles. "Jongin, please, I want to finish this," he protests but Jongin's hand is insistent on his back and it's working. It's lulling him into sleep too quickly.

They stay in silence, Minseok isn't sure if he falls asleep momentarily but he finds a soft smile drifting through the dull haze of sleep clouding his mind. It's easy to let go with a warm hand supporting him from behind.

"Come on, let's go to sleep," Jongin whispers, hot breath fanning over the back of his neck and he shivers, even though the sweat of working still clings to his clothes. Jongin's voice is warm, calming, and enough to pull Minseok up from his bench and throw himself into his bed.

He sees a warm red fade slowly into black beginning with the crack in the center just as he drifts into sleep.












Luhan walks into the shop five days later with a cheerful smile and two cups of coffee in his hands.

"If I remember correctly, your favorite was an americano, right?" he asks, setting the coffee down at the edge of the worktable and taking a sip from his own.

Minseok smiles a little; americano hasn't been his favorite in a long while, but the gesture is still nice anyway. The caffeine is even more appreciated. "Thanks," he mutters before sliding his goggles back over his eyes and turning back to his work. "It's rare customers treat me to coffee. That's normally Jongin's job."

Luhan chuckles, eyes glancing around the shop and fingers tapping nervously against the side of his cup. Minseok tries not to watch the way the sleek, silver band on Luhan's fourth finger catches in the sunlight. "Nice place," he says absentmindedly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, I suppose. Nothing's really changed from when my father owned it." Minseok takes another sip from his coffee and hopes his dislike isn't evident.

Luhan hums, then takes out his wallet and stares at it with more interest than he had at the shop. Minseok notes the smile that crosses his face, a smile wide enough that his teeth gleam and his cheeks redden just slightly.

Jongin's clinging to the corner of the room, almost unnoticeably if Minseok hadn't caught the glare he's been shooting for a while now. He watches with a furrow in his brows, probably unintentional, but Luhan can't help but shift under the younger's gaze.

Minseok sighs and slumps at the table. Luhan's heart is coming along far too slowly. The smallest cracks and branches of crevices have been healed, but there's still the largest crack down the center still completely open.

He's suddenly met with a face full of leather and cards he doesn't recognize. He shifts back on his hands to notice a photo, already tattered at the corners in its spot in the wallet.

"Isn't it wonderful? My fiancée and I had our photos taken a few days ago in our wedding day clothes."

Right. It looks wonderful; it honestly does. Luhan's fiancée is nothing short of beautiful, pale skin and long, black hair flowing down her back and wedding dress fitted around her slim curves and cutting out at her thin waist.

"I've just got a few more invitations to hand out and last minute preparations to finish."

Minseok just hopes his face doesn't show the pain of his lungs feeling like they've collapsed.

"Oh no, is there something wrong? Can my heart not be fixed? Please tell me you can fix it, Minseok. Is it too broken?"

His throat is suddenly far too dry and it's hard to swallow around his swollen tongue. "No, it's fixable. I'm sorry- it's just that there's so many gaps and-"

Luhan's hands fly over the table and grab his own, making him drop his tools out of surprise. Electricity sparks through his arms and he flinches. "Is there nothing you can do? Nothing at all?"

He tries to shake Luhan's grip from his hands, the electricity in his veins feeling like they're starting to char. He looks back to Luhan's broken heart and sighs.

His shaky fingers wring themselves around the fabric of his work apron, underneath the table. He manages a smile as best as he can. "Of course there's something I can do. I'm a Heartsmith, aren't I?"

Luhan brightens, but it only makes him feel more sick. "I knew you could do it," Luhan laughs lightly. He tosses away the last of his coffee and starts dressing to head back out. "My fiancée is going out to pick flowers soon, so I'm going to head out to meet her. I'll drop by again!"

Minseok only manages a nod, eyes never leaving his work because he's sure if he watches Luhan leave, the walls he's built around his feelings will come crashing down and the feeling of his heart breaking is almost tangible, like crushing wet sand between his hands.

A mug appears in front of his work, and he slides off his goggles again to meet Jongin's sympathetic gaze. Minseok takes the mug and blindly takes a sip to find it's a cappuccino. His favorite. Jongin's already taken the coffee Luhan had given him and headed back out to the counter without so much as a sound.

He takes a deep breath and clamps his fingers at the hem of his shirt in hopes that his patchwork heart has more to give.










There's only one more thing left to do. Midnight has long past and the candle is almost nothing more than a stub. But all he's got left to do is fill in the last hole, just one more piece and he'll be done.

So he takes his heart out. It's more painful than the last time and leaves him short of breath. The lightness overcomes him, but somehow it isn't the same- like there's still something sitting in the pit of his chest that's making it difficult to breathe.

But he ignores the feelings and starts. He takes the knife and the scribe tool to his heart and takes out a piece of Love. Piece by piece, he chips and cuts away at it, more and more until there's enough to fill through Luhan's heart. He doesn't feel anything as he works, his hands don't shake and there's an odd calm where he feels it shouldn't be.

He strips the Love from his heart and welds it to Luhan's, piece by piece. And little by little, Luhan's heart comes together with only faint scars to show that it was ever broken in the first place. The light from the candle wanes and flickers and almost blinks out by the time he's finished. Luhan's heart is whole again.

At that, at least, he can be happy for. Another job done means another person happy. That's the purpose of his job, after all.

He sighs, takes his heart in his hands, and starts to push it back into his chest. But it's different somehow from any other time he's had to put his heart back. There's a flickering pain that starts from the center of his chest and spreads like a potent fire along his ribs, flames at his lungs and searing his chest from the inside. He breathes heavily, sweaty hands clenching and unclenching in his shirt as he tries to clear out his mind and think. The fire intensifies, burning and pulsing and the flames are traveling through his veins, searing against his skin and he closes his eyes, praying for it to be over soon.

But it hits him hard like a head on collision with a train. The Sadness comes crashing over him like torrential waves, feeling like it's crushing his ribs and compacting his lungs and he's being into it faster than he can react to it. He in as much air as he can muster and starts trying to think of happy things.

But it's always the most desperate of moments when things begin to fail and he panics because every happy thought and memory seems to escape him. He can't think through the holes in his heart and mind and the Sadness is beginning to swell and fester into something painful and heavy in his chest that he folds himself over his work table, tools clattering to the ground, just to keep himself from tipping backwards and colliding with the ground.

He's scared. The Fear slinks along his veins, leaving a burning poison in its wake. His throat closes up and there's this unsurpassable lump in his throat that he's never felt before, like a rock clogged in his windpipe and this stinging, burning pressure starts to build up behind his eyes until the tears fall and the entire wall that held all the Sadness and Fear festering in his body comes crumbling down.

He starts to cry. He lets the tears fall down his heated cheeks and he chokes out sobs and he coughs and feels the saliva dripping embarrassingly onto his table as he cries. The Sadness starts to swirl in his stomach like nausea and it hurts to even try and hold it down. The Fear and Anger start to conglomerate in his chest and it's so heavy and cold like ice and makes the pain cut deeper with the heat still flaring through his body.

It's his heart's way of telling him that he took too much out. He gave too much away, and now there's no balance. There's too little Love and Happiness left.

But Minseok hadn't cared when he'd done it. He knew Luhan's heart was going to take so much of the Love out of him that the emotional imbalance would be just as painful as this. He's been giving up so much of himself for so long that it's getting tiring, too tiring. All the Happiness and Bravery and Love and Excitement and Passion that he's given to others have found their spots filled in his heart with more Sadness and Fear and Anger and Guilt.

He doesn't hear the door creak, nor the soft pad of footsteps over the volume of his sobs, but when he feels the warm air rush around his shivering body and arms come to circle around his neck, he wails even harder from the embarrassment. He isn't weak, his heart isn't weak, he's just been thrown off balance.

But admittedly, it's nice to feel Jongin's warm hands pressed against his back and to feel the soft beating of Jongin's heart thrumming through his body. It's nice to let go of some of the burden in his chest and let himself press his blotchy, red, tear-streaked face into Jongin's sleep shirt and let something other than his hands soak up the tears. It's nice to feel that there's one person that's somehow always there to catch him as he's falling.

Jongin hums a tune he can't really hear over his blocked ears, holds him in strong arms, and pressed a warm hand to his heart. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he whispers sadly.

Minseok nods, shivers making him tremble in Jongin's strong hold. His heart's begun to calm down a little; the emotional balance is coming back.

"Didn't I tell you this'd get you in trouble one day? You give up so much of yourself that soon, there'll be nothing left."

Yeah, Jongin's told him a thousand and one times that there are hearts for sale he's supposed to use for parts, not take pieces of his own. But then again, it's not like heart sellers are easy to come by. The last one had passed nearly six months ago.

"If you keep giving up parts of yourself, there won't be anything left for me."

He stills for a moment, feeling his breath catch in his throat. "W-What?" he croaks, feeling even more embarrassed now so he sits up and tries to clean his eyes and hope he doesn't look too torn apart. He gratefully takes the offered tissue to blow his nose.

Jongin looks away shyly, eyes glued to the floor. He starts mumbling to himself, seemingly more childlike, tan cheeks catching a pink tint in the candlelight, and Minseok doesn't understand what he's saying when his ears are still clogged until he feels his hand, rubbing at the few tears still dripping from his eyes, pulled from his face and soft lips pressed against the tear tracks.

"I said I like you. And I'd still like you even if you did give all of yourself away- even if you were heartless."

Though his body freezes up, his heart starts beating harder, ramming against the confines of his ribs and fluttering pleasantly in his stomach. His chest constricts and his palms start to sweat as Jongin grabs his chin between his fingers and pulls him closer slowly, as if making sure this is really what Minseok wants, until they meet with lips pressed against each other's.

It doesn't last long enough for Minseok to even think about it, but it's enough for him to understand that Jongin's serious. It brings a smile back to his face and Shyness comes thrumming through his veins and spiking heat in his cheeks. "I don't know what to say," he sniffs, dabbing the last of his tears and blowing his nose before shyly his palms in the hem of his work apron.

Jongin chuckles, standing up and offering a hand. "How about we go to bed then," he yawns, mouth pulling widely and warm eyes disappearing behind thick eyelashes before their warmth flickers in the candlelight again.

Minseok smiles, tossing off his goggles and chucking his work apron over his chair. He blows out the candle and curls into Jongin's side with the younger's hand pressed at the small of his back. "I think sleep is needed," he sighs.

But there's Happiness and Love in his heart when he accepts Jongin's offer to crawl into his bed, to curl into his broad chest and tangle their feet together. His heart flutters pleasantly in his chest as the consciousness seeps almost instantaneously from his tense muscles.

He's glad that it's Jongin to catch him, that Jongin could find his patchwork heart to be perfect.












Jongin doesn't open the shop the next day. Minseok panics when he wakes up at one in the afternoon and has no new orders and no current projects to finish, but Jongin calmly ushers him back into bed. He brings food to his room, enough to last them lunch and dinner, and crawls back under the sheets.

Amidst their shy kisses and soft laughter, Minseok falls asleep again from the exhaustion still clinging to his bones. He falls asleep to Jongin's body pressed close, hands running through his hair, and the even, gentle beating of his heart. He dreams of a warm red cast over his arms and the way his heart pulls tight in his chest when his small, calloused hands seem to slot perfectly in Jongin's larger, smoother ones. He's lulled by the rapid tempo of Jongin's heart and how it somehow seems to match with his.

Sleep comes easier than it ever had.












"You'll attend my wedding, won't you?" Luhan asks, handing over a wedding invitation, simple in its design and standard in its color pallet.

Minseok takes the invitation, rips away the envelope and opens the card. His name is neatly printed in cursive amongst simple gray swirls and subtle sparkles alongside the words "And One Guest".

"One guest?"

Luhan smirks, eyes shifting over to Jongin pondering at budget records at the front desk, eyebrows furrowed and full, pink lips drawn into a pout. Minseok feels the heat rise to his cheeks so fast that he punches Luhan in the shoulder a little too hard.

Luhan just laughs and pulls him into a hug, holding him close only for a moment before letting go. Minseok only feels a little flutter of his heart before it easily settles down again. "I expect to see him there or else I'll set my mother on you, and she'll try to set you up with every single young adult."

Minseok laughs, tucking the invitation in his back pocket. "I'll do that," he says, turning to his work table and pulling Luhan's heart from the stand.

Luhan's grey eyes sparkle at the sight of his full heart, taking it with eager hands and awe at the tip of his tongue. He quickly pushes it back into his chest, energy seeping so fast that Minseok barely catches him as he sags forward.

"I'm alright," he whispers, hand still clutched over his chest. He takes in a few breaths before straightening himself again. When he opens his eyes, they're back to their normal warm brown. "You're amazing, Minseok. I don't think I could ever thank you enough."

Minseok just shakes his head, catching Jongin smiling at him from the front counter in the corner of his eyes. "It's not a problem. I'm glad everything will go well for you."

Luhan leaves with a final hug and near threats that he better come to his wedding or he'll tell Jongin every embarrassing thing he's ever done. Minseok promises over and over until the bell rings over the front door and a weight off his chest seems to dissipate into the air when the bell finally stops sounding.

Jongin comes over, and Minseok is eager to pull the younger into his arms, to wrap his arms tight around the younger's waist. He breathes in Jongin's scent of cinnamon and faint sweat and noses into the fabric of his shirt.

"You're not here to give me more work, are you?" he mutters, heart fluttering frantically in his chest like the wings of humming birds and electricity sparking through the skin of his arms.

"No," Jongin chuckles, cradling Minseok's head against his shoulder and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "If you don't want to, I can shut down the shop for today."

That would be nice, he thinks. Close up the shop early and stay under the bed covers being in Jongin's arms and talking and laughing and doing nothing of importance. Let the tempo of Jongin's heart and the warmth of his smile and eyes put him to sleep and ease the rapid beating of his own heart. That would be just perfect.

"I think I'd like that," he breathes, feeling a smile tug at his lips. He looks up to find Jongin smiling pleasantly at him, shyly with such endearment in his dark eyes that Minseok feels his heart thud against his ribs.

His heart's still just a patchwork of holes and feelings, of useless space and emotions. But somehow, it's never felt more whole.

A/N: i highly recommend you read the original comic here!! i only took one interpretation of the story but i think everyone will have their own feelingsabout the characters xD anyway thanks for reading and let me know what you think!

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