Jongin didn't think that it would take that long for the bus to arrive. He tapped his foot impatiently on the ground and checked his watch. The bus should have been here ten minutes ago. Grumbling to himself, he picked the paper bag off the ground and carried in his arms, heading in the direction of home. Well, home was what he called it, it was technically Kyungsoo's house. It was a 15 minute walk, but he survived and fumbled with one hand to get the keys from his pocket. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and kicked it closed with his foot once he was inside. He set the groceries on the wooden table in the dining room and took his jacket off. Kyungsoo's jacket off. Jongin draped it over the back of a chair and took the groceries out. 

Jongin put everything in it's place. The bread in the pantry, the bag of rice in the cabinet under the rice cooker, coffee drinks in the refrigerator. The kitchen was perfect. Just the way Kyungsoo liked it and if Kyungsoo liked it, so did Jongin. Kim Jongin was the type of person who remembered every single detail about every little thing. He remembered about the summer five years ago when he came to the rural town where he currently resides, he remembered about meeting the boy that changed his life, he remembered the sinking feeling in this stomach when the bus took him away from the boy that changed his life, he even remembered the words Kyungsoo told him the night before he left. "Come back next year. I'll still be here waiting for you." 

The first summer, Kyungsoo kept his word. Same with the second and third. The forth, however, Jongin came back to his mother's hometown to find Kyungsoo no where to be found. It turned out he was dead, buried 6 feet under the ground Jongin was standing on. It was a horrible jerk to reality. Nothing lasts forever. Not happiness, not love, and definitely not life. But what happened the three summers he spent with Kyungsoo was probably the best three summers of his life and every once in a while, Jongin would find himself crying in Kyungsoo's bed, sobbing about how he missed the other so much. 

Jongin made his way to his room, Kyungsoo's room, and flopped down on the bed. He buried his head in the pillow and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He found Kyungsoo's scent still lingering on the pillow. Groaning, Jongin to his back. He looked at the ceiling, the white ceiling he grew accustomed to staring at every night while reminsicing about Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo. Everything in Kim Jongin's life revolved around one person and one person only, Do Kyungsoo. 

And in a way, Jongin was fine with it.