KyungSoo was a photographer. He traveled all around the world to find the most perfect picture in the world. He's been to Paris and taken a picture of the Eiffel Tower. He's been to China and taken a picture of the Great Wall. He's been to America and took a picture of the Niagra Falls. Be it an animal, a person, a house, he would be the one to capture it. And he would be recognized for it. The Perfect Picture.

 

KyungSoo had been alone for practically all his life. His parents died in a car accident when he was seven. His grandparents were already dead. No aunts. No uncles. He raised himself. Homeschooled himself. Supported himself. And now here he is. 20 years old and still standing strong.

 

-

 

He's back in his hometown now. Seoul, South Korea. He figured, "Maybe the Perfect picture lies where you have been all along... Home."

 

-

 

KyungSoo hadn't been back home since he left, back in '09. The place had gotten a lot busier in the city and a lot quieter in the fields. "Ah," KyungSoo backtracked, "the fields."

 

He remembers when his mother used to bring him down to a special little place in the middle of a field. She would read him stories there after school, have picnics with him, just bond. The sun was always sunny whenever they visited. The grass was a perfect shade of green and the clouds were thin and whispy, dream-like even.

 

They would lay on the grass and point at the sky. "That cloud looks like a heart," or "That one looks like a mustache!" His mother would chuckle, her warm laughter making KyungSoo's cheeks tint pink. He remembers.

 

-

 

The sun was out that day. And it was a little breezy, just like in KyungSoo's memories. There were people out in the fields. Some were flying their kites along the orange-yellow horizon of the sun. Some were out walking their dogs, taking a walk, having a date even.

 

KyungSoo smiles. "Why, what a nice picture this would make."

 

He backs up until his lower back hits against a fence, giggling in his own embarrassment and looking around in case someone happened to see.

 

He picks up his DSLR camera hanging around his neck and places it in front of his left eye, squinting the other.

 

A familiar faint smell of wet grass brushes up against KyungSoo's nose. And he smiles again. Just like old times.

 

His camera automatically focuses on the great, big Willow Tree in the center of the field. It's beautiful, soft green leaves drooping down to a reachable height. An illusion of Angels flying gracefully in the middle of the park.

 

The light shines perfectly across the branches and tiny roots crawling from up the ground. Birds chirp and fly in the distance.

 

KyungSoo relaxes his hand and takes the picture, a loud "Chh!" echoing with the soft winds of the afternoon.

 

-

 

KyungSoo turns to leave the field, but stops when a strong force of nothingness pulls him back. He frowns but doesn't think much of it. He sits on the ground, his back leaning against the chipped, white fence, flipping through the pictures in his camera.

 

One of a flower, one of the sky, one an old man feeding birds, one of a white bench in the park.

 

And then there's the WIllow Tree.

 

The most perfect picture of them all.

 

KyungSoo's lips curl up into a smiled and happiness takes over his body.

 

"Perfect," he whispers. "But not perfect enough."

 

He stands up once again and positions himself where he was before. His back propped up against the wooden fence and his neck craning out forward, his fingers wrapped around the edges of the camera and his breath hitting the palm of his hand.

 

The camera focuses and KyungSoo snaps it.

 

Yet something catches his eye.

 

He very slowly moves away his camera, his eyes glued on the Willow Tree. All is silent. Or in KyungSoo's world at least.

 

He drops his camera [thank God it was attached to his neck] and gawks at the tree. Or the creature by the tree.

 

By the tree trunk is a dark, toned young man with jet black hair. He's wearing all white and he's just... just sitting there.

 

KyungSoo shuts his mouth, realizing it had been open for the last few minutes.

 

He was miles and miles and miles away from the tree. It was a miracle he could even see and notice the boy from afar.

 

KyungSoo ran. He ran as fast as he could, towards the Willow Tree. He didn't why. He didn't know how. But, he did. And a powerful force was driving him to do it.

 

-

 

It has been one month since KyungSoo met JongIn, the boy under the Willow Tree.

 

"Hi, I'm Kyun-"

"I'm JongIn. Pleased to meet you, KyungSoo."

 

He was that of an Angel.

 

"Meet me here every week. On Saturdays. 6:00pm."

"W-What?"

 

His voice was never anything above a loud whisper. As if he was scared to raise his voice.

 

"You're an Angel, aren't you, JongIn?"

"No, but you are."

 

He always dressed in white. And his intentions were always good.

 

-

 

One day, it was raining. But, that didn't stop KyungSoo. He grabbed his coat and ran to the fields. The fields where his happiness began and where it, hopefully, will end.

 

He brought his camera with him, safe under his zipped jacket and his arms as another layer of protection. Odd, isn't it? He brought it with him wherever he went.

 

He arrived at the edge of the fence. But he couldn't see beyond to the Willow Tree. The rain was too heavy. All he could see were raindrops falling down as fast as lighting. So, he ran.

 

-

 

The leaves on the Willow Tree remained green, even in the killer rain. It's thin branches swayed from side to side, copying the wind. Or was the wind copying it?

 

"JongIn?" he called. His face was pelted with raindrops, his eyes heavy, tired, and weak. "JongIn?!"

 

KyungSoo snarled lowly. It was pouring. It was Saturday. It was 6pm.

 

JongIn appeared from the other side of the tree. Yet he was completely dry. "Sorry to keep you waiting, KyungSoo, I hope you're not too mad." His face was pure and his lips were overly appealing that day. So innocent and whatnot.

 

"Nah, I can't be mad at yo-"

 

KyungSoo's world stopped for a moment. All the loud rain ceased and the dark moon and clouds faded into oblivion. The sky was completely white and the patches of grass were gone. The only thing left was the Willow Tree.

 

And JongIn, of course. For he was the one he was kissing.

 

JongIn's lips were smooth and plump, much like KyungSoo's but softer. JongIn's hands wrapped around KyungSoo's lower back.

 

KyungSoo's eyes were at first wide open, shocked at JongIn's sudden action, but his feelings slowly died down and he shut his eyes, holding onto JongIn's shoulders as well.

 

Sparks didn't fly. Butteflies didn't rumble about in his stomach. But emotions KyungSoo had never felt since his parents were alive came back again. He was happy again.

 

JongIn broke away, but locked his fingers around KyungSoo's back, smiling softly at him and staring into his eyes.

 

"Are you an Angel?" KyungSoo asks again.

 

"No," he whispers, "but you are."

 

Everything was still white. Pure white. No noise. Nothing. Nothing but the Willow Tree. JongIn places his lips onto KyungSoo's again and his world spins around over and over again. It's been a month since they met. A month is enough time to find one's love. One month. Four weeks. Thrity-One days. Seven Hundred Fourty-Four hours. Fourty-Four Thousand Six Hundred Fourty seconds.

 

KyungSoo's happiness is short-lived when the feeling of warm hands wrapped around his body is gone. When the texture and taste of JongIn escapes his lips. When everything feels ten shades darker. When the loud sounds of the rain returns. KyungSoo opens his eyes. He jumps back in surprise. He's all alone.

 

The Willow Tree is gone. The rain pours against his cold, pale skin. He stands in the center of the field. Nothing but over-watered plants by his side.

 

Five Minutes.

 

Five minutes is how long is lasted according to his watch.

 

Five minutes of eternal happiness and love. Gone.

 

KyungSoo takes out his camera despite the rain. Tears well in his eyes, memories of JongIn flashing through his eyes.

 

He turns his camera on and looks at the last picture taken, hopes of seeing the Willow Tree once again.

 

KyungSoo doesn't smile though. Instead, his lips quiver in a crying manner as he drops down to his knees and sobs. Sobs in the rain.

 

The last picture is of him and JongIn kissing. The ground, the sky, the everything is pure white. And the Willow Tree stands tall behind them. The sunlight from the unknown source reflects off of their hair, revealing the natural brown hue from their hair color. JongIn's skin is dark compared to KyungSoo's. He's much taller, also. Yet they look perfect together. The Perfect Picture.

 

The camera hangs on his neck as he continues to sob. Mud and grass sticking onto his clothing, rain still pouring down in his face. His salty tears mix in with the salty rain and choked sobs escape his lips.

 

He sobs and sobs.

 

And the clouds sob with him.

 

A/N:

ohmygod What the did I just write? Gross. I need to flip some rn. ┳━┳ ◡ ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ ┻━┻ 

 

This is just a KaiSoo One-Shot/Long Drabble. I got tired of working on "They Were All Lies" so I made this lol. But, don't worry!^^ "They Were All Lies" Chapter 1 will be posted soon! \o/ I must warn you though, Chapter 1 is a little y u_u And by a little, I mean a LOT... OTL

 

Well, riceisnice is back and I'll be trying to update frequently! 8th grade year is really stressful so far...

 

Please Subscribe~ Subscribe, subscribe, subscribe~

 

Please Comment!! Comment, comment, comment! ^__^

 

Share this fic and any of my other fics with your friends~

 

Recommended [If you liked this story, you’ll like…] ~ The Bucket List || Say Hello

 

Please, please, pLEASE subscribe, comment, share! But, most importantly, have a very nice day^^.

 

Lots of love, riceisinice.