Donghae stopped taking his depression medication the day he realized they were useless. 

He read the label word for word, over and over again, taking in every essence of fabrication they had to offer before chucking the bottle at his bathroom mirror. Nothing but a bunch of imitated happiness.

He ran a hand through his brunette hair, half in frustration, and half in desperation to feel something. 

Donghae's eyes began to glaze over in hot tears, forming steady streams down his cheeks. 

He collapsed onto the tiled floor of the bathroom, his body racking in uncontrollable shakes as he sobbed.

The depression had not gotten better. Whatever his therapist said would help him was certainly not working. 

His nights transformed from home cooked meals and cups of tea to crappy Chinese takeout and entire bottles of soju. Taking care of himself was a responsibility, but it was one that Donghae never asked for in the first place.

Life had gotten to be just too monotonous; on-going, day after day of calculated tedium.

During his less consolable nights, Donghae soon realized pulling himself out of bed at 4 AM to write poems on his laptop was a sleepless ritual. 

The action eased him, in a way, to indulge in the anger-fueled counterpart that resided in his mind. It was soothing. 

That is, until he decided a cup of coffee was due. 

Hyukjae would walk down the sidewalk to the residential park every morning after having a nice conversation with the old woman who owned the flower shop next to his apartment. 

He felt like it was his duty to make her smile at least once every time they spoke. And as soon as she would crack a smile that would cause numerous more wrinkles on her cheeks, Hyukjae would do exactly the same, knowing his job had been accomplished. 

Next, he would take a stroll down to the playground and join in a game of hide and seek with the local children there. They always seemed to disregard his age, and Hyukjae certainly thanked them for that. 

After several rounds of tag, and a final agreement was made for the winner through Rock Paper Scissors, Hyukjae would head to the craft store to replenish his art supplies. 

He would stare for ages in pure, unadulterated wonder at the many colors of paint. 

The way the hues could bend into others to make new ones fascinated Hyukjae, he could never seem to understand the concept, but he didn't mind it, or get frustrated. He simply let himself be taken aback by the idea of color over and over again. 

His days normally ended with his act of creation. His drawings and paintings could easily convey his feelings with just the right line in an exact place, or the perfect blending of an orange and blue to match one of a sunset. 

One day, Hyukjae was in need of a new atmosphere. Something that challenged him.

"Okay, one large black coffee. Can I get you anything else, sir?" The overwhelmingly cheerful barista behind the counter asked Donghae, to which he scowled at her attitude. 

"That's it." He said roughly, giving her his credit card with anticipation to get the conversation over with. 

"Thanks! Your drink will be out soon. Are you sure you don't want a pastry to accompany your drink?" 

"I'm fine, thanks." He said coldly without glancing back at her crest-fallen expression. 

"Good morning, Jihyun!" 

An alarmingly bright voice chimed around the room, and it made Donghae's head turn. 

"Good morning, Hyukjae oppa! Do you want the usual?" She asked the man while putting heaps of sugar into a paper cup which made Donghae gag. 

"That'd be fantastic. I love your hairstyle this morning, it's different, isn't it?" The man, who Donghae now understood to be Hyukjae mused, putting a finger on his chin in mock thought. Jihyun's face brightened with his words. 

"Yeah! I hear that this is the new style that everyone’s going for these days." She fished a small cinnamon roll out of the display case, and placed it into a brown paper bag. The barista gingerly handed Hyukjae his overly sweetened latte and his pastry with a smile, to which he bowed with his head politely. 

Donghae was annoyed that she didn't take the time to prepare his simple black coffee before this obnoxious guy walked in, but he exhaled sharply as he sat down, and opened his laptop. 

The brunette did not realize someone was staring directly at him until he looked up briefly to retrieve his coffee from the counter. 

He froze, unsure of how to react. 

Most of the time, Donghae was able to go through life unnoticed, and due to that fact being constant, he had to get used to it. 

But for this absolute stranger, he seemed to be the center of attention.

The man, Hyukjae, with his smiling eyes and his dark hair, was undoubtedly staring right at him, watching his every move with extreme caution, as if he were afraid he'd miss something. 

Donghae quickly shook it off, the hot drink in his hand proceeding to warm up his palm. He sat, once again, trying desperately to ignore Hyukjae's gaze, but he shifted uncomfortably in his seat knowing it was fixed on him.

Why is he looking at me? Donghae wondered. 

I'm not important. I can't possibly be that interesting, why won't he look away? He thought once more while sipping his coffee absentmindedly, allowing the bitter liquid to stain his palate. 

Donghae realized this guy wasn't going to give up, so he decided to work on some unfinished poems that he had started the previous night. 

He picked up exactly where he'd left off, writing something about humanity’s innate need to be selfish and cold.

Hyukjae, on the other hand, noticed everything about the gorgeous man across the coffee shop. 

He took note of how his thick eyebrows would furrow every time he typed something lengthy onto his laptop. He saw how the man's foot would tap to a rhythm that Hyukjae started picking up with his own fingers on the table in front of him once he finally mastered it. He also took in the fact that his tongue would peek out behind his thin lips every once in a while before he would bite his bottom lip in concentration. 

Oh, God.

Hyukjae found this man almost mesmerizing, and he soon couldn't seem to stop his hand from sketching out the curves of his face, his dark brown hair, and his almost sad-looking eyes. They were sparkling; a blink away from a rainy day. It was like at any second they’d start spilling, triggered by a subconscious force that he couldn’t stop. 

Donghae was soon absorbed by his craft as well, writing out whatever came to mind, and pressing the delete button on whatever wasn't good enough. He hated when the delete button was the key he used most frequently, but unfortunately he rarely took any pride in his work. 

Donghae was just writing to survive; and if it meant revising the same verse again and again until it was perfect, he’d do it. Everything he wrote had to be sublime. His life depended on it.

He glanced up shortly, to be surprised. 

Hyukjae, this creepy stranger, had gone back to minding his own business and had refrained from staring at him. 

Donghae celebrated silently in his mind, and continued to work. 

What a weird guy…

The clacking of the keys began to drone on constantly, and it spurred Donghae to peek another glance at Hyukjae out of sheer boredom. 

His face was completely ing original, all of his features working together to form a creation unlike anything Donghae had ever seen. His nose rounded out so perfectly, forming a silhouette that caused all eyes to fall to his plump lips, and suddenly Donghae’s face began to get hot.

Inspiration was what forced him to open a new tab on his computer, to which he named "Hyukjae - The elusive consumer of coffee" with a smile. He began writing, making sure to look up at the man sitting a couple tables away from him, to note his features with every word he typed into his laptop. 

The two continued like this for some time, not completely understanding the actions that the other was taking in order to preserve each other’s beauty. Whatever Donghae couldn't put into words, Hyukjae interpreted it perfectly through his pencil . 

Then Donghae went to steal a glance at the exact moment Hyukjae was, and the two locked eyes in a bond that lasted long enough to make things awkward. 

Once the embarrassment set in, Donghae forced himself to gather his belongings and leave. 

He set everything into his car, and opened a fresh pack of cigarettes. A typical writer’s vice.

He shamelessly lit one outside the cafe, exhaling its poisonous fumes into the air around him. 

"Those things will kill you, you know." 

Donghae nearly choked on his cigarette, taking the item hanging out of his mouth in his fingers, and throwing a harsh glare at the interruption. 

To his utter surprise, a smirking Hyukjae was standing next to him, leaning against a brick wall opposite to the parking lot, his legs and arms crossed in an authoritative fashion. Donghae was tempted to swallow his cigarette right there, and hoped that it would kill him on the spot, but he went without speaking instead. 

"Hey, you know how to talk? I noticed you staring at me earlier." Hyukjae gave a somewhat innocent face, which threw Donghae for a loop, and all he wanted to do was curl up and explode from embarrassment. 

He couldn't deny that he was staring at the man in front of him...

Donghae decided to come clean. 

"Yeah, I was. I apologize. But you were staring at me first.”

"Oh, that’s because you're the perfect model for my daily drawings in the cafe. You see, I always pick someone to draw when I come to grab coffee every morning. To be honest, you're way more interesting than the older people that come in routinely. Your features are a perfect muse." 

The blush that found its way on Donghae's face was accidental, and he wanted to run far, far away. How could he say that so nonchalantly?

"Here." 

He handed Donghae a larger piece of stark white paper, a beautifully detailed drawing of himself etched onto it. Hyukjae had paid attention to the smallest things, even the tiny freckles on his right ear and the one on his upper lip were placed correctly in the right areas. Donghae couldn't say anything. He was completely taken aback by the kind gesture.

"Well, I'd better run. But I'm serious about those things, they'll kill you." 

Hyukjae took the cigarette right out of Donghae's hand, threw it onto the concrete, and crushed it under his black Converse sneakers.

"Think of it as a favor." 

Hyukjae gracefully smiled once more, with what Donghae thought was a faint wink, and headed off in the opposite direction. 

Donghae had been noticed. 

For once in his life, the unimportant Donghae had become important.