With one look in Wonshik's eyes, Taekwoon said to himself, "This is going to hurt when it's over." 

The Autumn had been a long, arduous one. The leaves had faded to burning ambers and vibrant golds and warm breezes had turned to bitter gusts. 

Taekwoon let out a satisfied sigh as he took out another felt tip pen from the box beside him, the cold plastic of the shell leaving a slight tingling sensation on his fingertips. He took off the lid with a faint 'pop' and touched his skin with the nib, beginning to add colour to the patterns already set there. Regal purples, botanic greens and hellish reds.

"Beautiful" Wonshik whispered as he looked down at his own arm, the filler appearing almost instantly. It made a nice change to the angry, rushed notes he used to recieve on his skin. He allowed himself to wrap an arm around Taekwoon's shoulders, a loose thread on his navy coat. 

Niether of them knew how long they had been sat on the bench under the willow tree for. Nor were they exactly sure how long they had left to cherish. These meetings had become a regular occurance since they met a month back. Taekwoon would wait every Sunday afternoon for his girlfriend to leave the house, allowing her to kiss him before she went; hating every second of it. Then, he would climb out of the window to their apartment and descend the fire escape to the main street before rushing to the park. He could always count on Wonshik being there waiting... 
almost like a dog waiting dutifully for his master.

"Have you RSVP'd to the wedding yet?" Taekwoon asked, his voice heavy with sadness. Wonshik didn't offer up any sort of response that went beyond a clenched fist and he bowed his head. 
He had never proposed to her. In fact, the day she told him she wanted to get married, he was planning to end it. But he was too much of a coward to look into her eyes and deny her the thing she wanted most: himself. She, naturally, had managed the whole thing. She had invited everyone from her mother to her producer, Wonshik. 
A piece of Wonshik's had heart chipped when that wedding invitation had been placed in his hand, especially when he knew all the pain she had caused her lover... his lover.

Knowing he had hit a sore subject, Taekwoon continued to colour. He picked up a dark blue and got to work but before he could make a decent start, Wonshik grabbed his hand and pressed it to his cold, blushing cheek "Don't forget me." 

"It isn't over yet."

Wonshik stared at him for a second, wondering how he could still have hope after knowing the inevitable. But, still, he forced a small smile and leaned forward, rubbing Taekwoon's face with his thumb softly as if asking permission to continue. Taekwoon exhaled slowly his eyes fluttered closed. He let out a small chuckle as Wonshik grabbed his coat lapells and pulled him closer, almost onto his lap. Even as their lips touched, he was smiling with little bursts of laughter. Wonshik felt his heart speed up as they kissed and kissed again. There was no better feeling for him than feeling Taekwoon's laughter in his mouth. It was a sound rarely heard and was gentle, like the sound of small, tinkling bells. 

They kissed each other and forgot to breathe. Although, it didn't seem that important at the time. Taekwoon wished it could last forever. Wonshik wished what he tasted could be the next sixty years of his life. Instead he knew they belonged to her. 

*******

The groom blinked rapidly as he stood up to make his toast. The room was packed full of people- some of which he had never met in his life- and they all stared at him vacantly. 
He felt like falling to his knees  and screaming as his eyes fell on a young man at the back of the room. His blonde hair was messy and he didn't look like he had slept in days. He wore a black and white striped suit which was slightly creased from his slouched posture. Wonshik.

Taekwoon's fingers ghosted over his arms shakily. He gulped and locked eyes with him. The moment was brief but a million emotions were exchanged: fear, anger, pain. Pitch, crimson, navy. He watched Wonshik's hand clench on the table beside him and mirrored the action, looking down. He didn't want this. It hurt, hurt so much. He bit his lip. He couldn't want this. 

He took a breath and opened his mouth. No more, he told himself. His words scrambled in his head, bubbled in his chest and reached the top of his throat. However, when he looked up he choked. Despair filled him once more and his face dropped.
Wonshik was gone.

********

It was three months after the wedding. 
Silence.
Monochromancity.
Nothing.

Wonshik had disappeared from his life. There were no secret phonecalls, no pretty drawings or notes; no sweet kisses when Winter came. Taekwoon's life was grey.

It was Christmas Eve when he sat alone in the Bloom and Goûte. He stared into his coffee cup impassively and let out a long sigh. He felt... empty. His world was colourless; he was colourblind. The only things he saw on his pale canvas was cruel purples and aggressive reds. Or 'lovebites' as she would call them. He had to supress a scoff: funny type of love. He looked up, eyes bitterly searching the room... until something, or rather someone, caught his attention. 

Tall, wide brown eyes deep and sparkling with something Taekwoon couldn't identify. His mouth was small in a natural pout and his snowy white locks fell across his forehead. Taekwoon's brow creased and a small, unintentional sob left his lips. However, he couldn't help the relieved smile that followed. They were the first colours he had seen in a long time, warm and welcoming like an embrace from an old friend. The ring on his left hand suddenly felt a lot lighter, as though the weight and burden was suddenly being shared. 

His hands were shaking as he took out the pen he always kept in his pocket- the botanic green he had always loved- and took the lid off. He paused for a second before closing his eyes and putting the nib on his forearm. He was never good at poetry:

'I want to be with you. It's as simple and complicated as that.'

He put the sharpie down and waited patiently, watching as the man on the other side of the room frowned at his arm and looked around confusedly. Taekwoon's heart skipped a beat as their eyes met for a split second before the man lowered his arm into his lap under the table. He waited for a reply:

'I'm not going to tell you I miss you.'

The blue ink felt like it carried a new level of sadness and regret and Taekwoon shook his head. He didn't want to be missed. He wanted to-

'How can I say I miss you in a way that will make your heart ache as much as mine does?'

Taekwoon frowned as the second reply was added, looking up confusedly and seeing the melancholic smile being thrown his way. How was he supposed to respond to that? He blinked rapidly as he felt the colours all begin to seep back into reality.

'It never stops hurting, does it?'

Red.

Orange.

Yellow.

'That's why I was hiding.'

Blue.

Grey.

White.

'Found you.'

Okay, so here is the sequel that should never have existed. I don't really like it that much but I really hope you all do.

*Thank you to poet, Charles Bukowski for the 'I want to be with you...' line in the last part*

Please, comment and tell me what you think! xxx