In his small and cozy house, Baekhyun found comfort.

At seven in the morning, he needs to get up and start his uneventful day. As the alarm rings for the second time at twelve noon, it was already time for lunch. Then finally, the noisy clock resounds at seven in the evening to end his day with a simple dinner. Life for Byun Baekhyun is pretty much a routine.

So maybe in his small and cozy house, Baekhyun found loneliness too.

“Tomorrow will be another gray day…” Baekhyun thought as he grabbed his guide stick and dashed out of the door. At age 25, he already lived alone. His tragic fate of being involved in a car accident one Saturday night led him to lose not only his sight but moreover, his hope for life. From then on, he had always lived alone – far from the people, far from the judgment, and always in the gray area.

He arrived at the Art Center at exactly nine in the morning. Baekhyun hated missed opportunities so the moment he arrived at his room, he started doing his job.

Work at the Center as a volunteer art teacher was not that much of a trouble for a blind man like him. Growing up in the presence of Art, Baekhyun had always loved the feeling and emotions from it. Painting, being his forte, became the only outlet in his life; and Baekhyun thought that sharing it to the enthusiastic students is the best way to find his purpose in life.

In his humble four-sided box, perhaps, Baekhyun found a little ounce of hope.

His train of thoughts was cut short when a stranger – almost as tall as the old wooden door – barged into the room looking so disheveled. He does not really see the man but his tired pants were more than enough for an explanation.

“Excuse me? I’m sorry for disturbing but do you know where the staff of this center is? I scheduled an interview appointment for my ongoing book.” The tall stranger says as he dabbed the dripping sweat in his face with the back of his hand.

Baekhyun stopped fixing his materials, grabbed his guide stick, and walked towards the stranger. “Oh, that’s me. I’m the volunteer who got assigned to entertain your appointment.”

The two then settled for a conversation in the small coffee table outside the room. “Chanyeol.” The stranger said to the curious artist. That was his name. “Nice to meet you, I’m Baekhyun. Shall we start?”

The day has just begun for the two of them.

The tall stranger—Chanyeol—asked about the artist’s perspective and opinion about the different forms of Art, its history and relevance, and how it affects human beings in a deeper aspect, in which Baekhyun answered as if he’s just reciting an old favorite song he had memorized like the back of his mind.

“What’s Art to you?” Chanyeol asked. A vague question, Baekhyun concluded. Art for him is as vast as the entire universe and as diverse as the human beings.

Nonetheless, the artist answered, “Art allows me to see the world despite having my physical body restricted.” At this point, Chanyeol already confirmed he was blind. And at this exact same point did Chanyeol realize the he did not really seem to care about the artist’s disability.

His answer spoke so much sense to the eager researcher. “Oh, that’s—that’s beautiful.” Without further logical thinking, Chanyeol blurted. “I have never seen such artist who can make wonders with his hand despite being blind.” You’re awesome, Baekhyun! He wanted to add; but perhaps they are not that close, not yet, at least.

Chanyeol wrapped up the session with a few What and How questions which the artist single-handedly answered. Two hours had gone by, but neither of the two paid much attention to the ticking of the clock.

And surprisingly, in the small coffee table down the hall, Baekhyun found company.

»»————-　✼　————-««

The next day, Chanyeol visited Baekhyun’s room only to see the latter facing a masterpiece placed against the ivory wall. He silently went inside the room, however, as a study says: with one sense down, all others are heightened; and this was proven when Chanyeol’s familiar footsteps were heard by the awaiting artist.

“Why are you here? Another interview?” Baekhyun asked. The intruder was surprised to know that Baekhyun knew it was him, despite his physical restriction.

Chanyeol chucked, “No. Can’t I simply visit a friend?”

Friend, such a foreign word to Baekhyun. For so many years of plainly existing, he never had a permanent person in his life – be it a friend, a family, or a lover. So when Chanyeol asked the question, Baekhyun almost laughed.

“Friend? Why? Are we friends?” Baekhyun was only mocking Chanyeol but the tall man took it a little too seriously. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought we were friends since yesterday we had some comfortable conversation about some things…”

“I was just joking, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun grinned, eyes turning into small crescents. “Beautiful.” Chanyeol must have said his thoughts out loud.

“Huh?”

“Ah, t-this artwork is so beautiful.” Chanyeol added quickly, hoping that his stammering would not reveal the little slip of the tongue he made moments before.

“Maybe we’re acquaintances. Yes, like two people who aren’t friends but not strangers at the same time.” The artist said, blankly fronting on at the artwork that the tall man had deemed beautiful. “Friendship, that’s almost as impossible as reaching all the starts in the night sky. So Chanyeol, acquaintances?” Baekhyun offered his hand.

“Acquaintances.” Chanyeol did not let Baekhyun’s soft hand run cold.

And perhaps this little declaration led to Chanyeol visiting the Center just to see Baekhyun for consecutive days.

So in the once lonely and cold art room, Baekhyun found warmth.

»»————-　✼　————-««

Weeks after weeks, Chanyeol kept Baekhyun in company. Maybe because he wanted to share his afternoon snack with this talented acquaintance or maybe he just needed a little help for his book, or maybe because he finds Baekhyun’s presence as comforting and cozy just like the man he really is.

“Am I your friend now?” Out of the blue, Chanyeol asked, while giving Baekhyun a slice of sandwich he brought down town before visiting the artist.

Baekhyun giggled— what music to his ears, Chanyeol thought, but this does not eased his expectations. “If you keep on giving me free food every day, then maybe we can be friends.”

Chanyeol knew the artist was just fooling around, so he was relieved that the person he cherishes now considered him as a friend.

For once, in the confines of the four sides of his room, Baekhyun finally found a friend.

»»————-　✼　————-««

Days passed, months flew by, and years gone like whispers and giggled they shared every night. All these time and yet their friendship only blossomed. Was it really Friendship? Or is it Love? No one is really certain. But there’s Love in Friendship, and Friendship in Love, right? So does it really matter?

“Will your condition last forever or is it just a temporary situation? Is there any way for you to see the… world?” Chanyeol asked unsurely. Originally, he wanted to ask Baekhyun if there’s any way for the artist to see him. But what Chanyeol did not know of is that the world and himself – Chanyeol—are synonyms in Baekhyun’s little dictionary.

Sighing, the artist removed Chanyeol’s arm that was wrapped around his waist as they were currently lying down together. As friends or as lovers, again, no one is really sure.

“I don’t know. I gave up hoping many years ago and thought that the day will come if it must.” Grief was evident in Baekhyun’s voice. With the way he curled his fingers, and showed his protective stance, Chanyeol knew that the artist needed comfort; and so comfort he gave.

“At first I never wanted to hope for sight again, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun started, now crying, wetting Chanyeol’s sleeve. “But now, now I think I found a reason to hope again.”

“I want to see how beautiful the flowers are; I want to see how vibrant the watercolor palettes are; I want to see how tall you are; how handsome you must be; I want to see how bright your smile is. Chanyeol for once, I had the hope and reason to live again. For years since I lost the power of sight, I also ceased to live. I thought I just existed, barely even moving. I believed that my life was a pit of gray but surprisingly, you knocked and became my palette of color – you became my hope.”

By the time Baekhyun stopped speaking, Chanyeol realized the endless tears rushing down his very own face. He realized how fast his heart is beating. Chanyeol realized that he did sacrifice his own hues and colors to Baekhyun; to be part of the lonely artist’s world—gray world it may be, he did not care—for he will be the one to sprinkle it with life and color.

For the tall man, Baekhyun is a blank white canvas, who just needs another artist who is patient enough for this beautiful canvas to open its vastness; and Chanyeol decided to be that artist.

No one said a legible word. But maybe, Chanyeol’s soft peck against Baekhyun’s forehead was enough assurance.

And so in Baekhyun’s little cozy room, he found love, at last.

»»————-　✼　————-««

The next week was all rainbows and sunshine. Days after their subtle confessions, little kisses on the forehead, on the cheeks, and on the sides of their lips became a normal thing.

They were seated on Baekhyun’s sofa when suddenly Chanyeol insisted that they go for a walk in the park. “The weather is too nice just to stay behind the house, Baekhyun.” The tall man reasoned out when Baekhyun asked why.

The day was beautiful just like the smiles of the two lovers. Despite having the guide stick on his left hand, Baekhyun seemed to hold the entire world– for he was holding Chanyeol’s hand with his other one.

“Chanyeol, I’ve been constantly having short episodes of head aches and I tried to consult the doctor about it,” Baekhyun started as they sat on the bench over looking the night view of the silent park.

Baekhyun held Chanyeol’s hand and continued, “He said that it’s because there’s a chance I might be able to see again. Imagine, Chanyeol, for the first time I might see you again!” Out of joy, Baekhyun wrapped his chilly arms around the tall man.

Chanyeol grabbed his hand and hugged the artist, “I’m proud of you,” he whispered. “We will wait for the day that you will finally see the world again. And I will make sure that I’ll be there to witness it with you.”

Amidst the chilling night breeze at the park, Baekhyun really did find Hope.

»»————-　✼　————-««

Chanyeol was not able to visit Baekhyun the following week. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the researcher opted to send a text message to Baekhyun to inform him that he was going to his office in Seoul to finally pass his book of Art Analysis, which he had finished with the help of the artist. That book was like an offspring of their passion, friendship, and love – altogether.

The noisy alarm blared but despite that, Baekhyun heard the distinct sound coming off from his phone. Someone was calling; and Baekhyun hoped it was Chanyeol.

Grabbing his stick, Baekhyun rushed over the counter to get the ringing device, and answered the call.

“Chanyeol? Is this y—

“Excuse me, is this Byun Baekhyun? You’re at the emergency contact of patient Park Chanyeol who was rushed to Seoul University Hospital. He was involved in a car accident at 5:06 pm. Condition, Critical—

The man over the phone kept on speaking but Baekhyun can no longer comprehend. The last thing he heard was the hospital Chanyeol was in so without thinking further, Baekhyun ran over the door, his guide stick long forgotten.

By the time Baekhyun reached the hospital, thanks to the grab driver who seemed to understand his desperation and worry and stepped on the accelerator, his head was aching and his heart was breaking. A sudden zap in his head rendered him speechless and motionless. Few moments after, he opened his eyes and was hit by the unfamiliar brightness of the hospital.

For years, black was the only shade he knew. But now, he was seeing the white laboratory gowns of the doctors, the beige hospital tiles, the blaring red color of the Emergency sign – and that was when he snapped back to reality and focused on the situation of his lover who was inside that room.

Mentally and physically strained, Baekhyun ran towards the emergency room. “Please be safe, I need to see you alive.” He chanted like a mantra. Baekhyun never believed in gods but he had hoped a divine being was there to hear his pleas.

Frantically, Baekhyun searched for the ward the tall man was in, “Chanyeol where are you?” He only stopped screaming when a nurse ushered him in a closed ward. After asking who he is and what his relationship with the patient is, the nurse let the artist in.

Opening his eyes were never painful to Baekhyun, until now. There, behind the thick hospital curtains, he saw Chanyeol. For the first time, he saw the love of his life, the reason for his being. He saw Chanyeol against the white matress now colored scarlet with his own bood. For the first time, he saw him. He saw him – dying.

“Time of death, 6:14 pm”

The hospital staff, nurses, and doctors alike, cleaned the area. Baekhyun stood there, unmoving, hopeless, and helpless. Now equipped with sight, Baekhyun saw his lover—pale, lifeless, dead.

Fate is just cruel for him. The moment he regained his sight is the same moment he had wished he was blind again—just so he can’t see the tragic ending their destiny had faced.

Baekhyun was supposed to be rejoicing, in the arms of Chanyeol, now that he can already see the world. But how can he possibly be rejoicing if his world—Chanyeol, his everything, is lying lifeless in his hands?

Perhaps Fate is a little too cruel.

If receiving the gift of sight will cost Chanyeol’s life, Baekhyun would rather live all lifetimes as a blind man.

And in the loud and bright vicinity of the hospital, Baekhyun was hopeless, shattered.