Sure enough. Yongguk did see him around, too often to be coincidental at that, and Daehyun liked to think that Yongguk actually waited for him in front of his house, waiting for him to come out at almost always the regular time (because Daehyun was meticulous with time) so he could ask if Daehyun would like his company for Daehyun’s daily early morning stroll at the park, or sometimes at night, when Daehyun was about to head to work, because apparently, according to Yongguk, he was going there anyway, because “the chips at the club are extra golden,” and, Yongguk would add shyly sometimes, “because I like to hear you singing and playing the piano.”

Day by day, the need to hear Yongguk’s low, bass voice and to have that man’s fingers wrapped securely on his clothed arm grew more and more paramount, so much that Daehyun wondered if it was healthy to be craving for a human liaison to this extent, but Daehyun had decided that he liked Yongguk better than his white cane, and he liked Yongguk as a guide to his work place much more than the street lamps, so he pushed the worrisome thoughts behind and savored the moment.

Daehyun ddid not like to think about it, but a faint sadness would tug at his heart on days Yongguk was not there to greet him outside his house.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Daehyun liked to embrace his days with positivity. When he began to gradually lose his sight as a little boy, everyone said that he was not only slowly becoming blind, but the disease took away his voice with it, as well as his vibrant, lively nature. He would lock himself in his bedroom and refuse to get out because it frustrated him to no end how every single thing was slowly becoming mere blurs of colors, how he would trip so often, how everyone began to treat him differently, how he could not even make out his mother’s face anymore, because the image he had on his mind was slowly being displaced by obscure mixture of colors….

But years had passed, and Daehyun was over that stage, embracing himself more and more each day, because he knew that the chances of him regaining his sight in this lifetime was slim to none. 

There were always moments, however, when all Daehyun wanted to do was  to curl inside the cocoon that were the piles of blankets in his bed, inside the security of his bedroom, wallowing in his gloom and crying his heart contents, because 'nobody understands'.

Not anymore.

Because his mother was but a distinct memory of kind voice and soothing touches.

Moments like this.

“Hey dude. Watch where you’re walking.”

His heart sinked.

“Cool stick you have there.”

Lower.

“Why are your eyes even open?”

And lower.

With hindsight, Daehyun knew enough that to let his emotions get the best of him by allowing the tears collecting at the brim of his eyes to free-fall, would only make him appear pathetic, and by uttering something acerbic his tongue is itching to say, things would only turn uglier, so, painfully, very painfully, he swallowed the insults, and resumed with his walk.

Not even a few feet away from the group of teenagers, he heard a deep familiar voice muttering “At least he’s not blind to other’s feelings,” with each single word the loudness increasing as if the owner of the voice were approaching him, before he felt callous fingers being intertwined with his, and newfound warmth emanating at his side. Daehyun felt his heartbeat quickening at the touch, and his feet involuntarily quickening to meet with Yongguk’s pace. A light squeeze on his fingers is felt by him, and he heard Yongguk proclaimed in a voice too loud for just one audience “Don’t mind those scums.”

“Faggots.”

Their steps came to a stop. Before Daehyun could voice a verbatim response of Yongguk’s advice to him, he felt Yongguk’s fingers free themselves from his, and said man glided to his front, catching him off guard at the sudden and unforeseen motion. Daehyun felt warm and callous hand being placed on his cheek, the thumb rubbing gently under his right eye, the tip touching his damp lower lashes, willing away the tears threatening to escape moments ago. Daehyun’s breath hitches, the propinquity rendering breathing an arduous task to him. When Yongguk slowly neared his face to him, heated breath fanning his face, and slowly placed a kiss right under his lips, Daehyun was pretty damn sure he was floating. He forgot about his previous sadness. He forgot about the pedestrians walking by and the mean teenagers.

He forgot about his loosening grip on his cane with the chapped lips lingering right under his bottom lips, but as if with clairvoyance, Yongguk’s hand was within no time perched atop his, gripping the about-to-fall cane along with his hand. He felt Yongguk’s lips twist into a smile.