This was originally written as a Hansoo fic, but it changed and matured over time. I wrote it for a very special person because she has an odd fascination with Luhan, but I realised that I can't imagine anyone else in this story, but Jongin. Sorry. :(

Heavily inspired by EXO's Immortal Song performances, winter mornings, and my personal God: coffee.

Sorry for the typos, plot bunnies and grammatical mistakes. Warning: overuse (abuse) and misuse of commas. *hides under the bed (until Kyungsoo calls ㅋㅋㅋ)*

I think another warning is in order for themes of depression and some non-graphic (semi-graphic? is that even a word?) but nonetheless disturbing descriptions.

The summer haze is long gone, but Kyungsoo is the kind of person that still stands with one foot in its caramel wonder, always running away but never quite letting go. He likes to keep his yesterdays close, but his todays even closer. He misses how sunlight melts on rooftops like kisses and fingertips on the curves of collarbones, and he misses the sighs as they melt into sheets before the night evaporates into blazing light. He misses the ability to laugh out of the blue and look at the world with wonder, the brightness of mornings, and the smell of coffee his landlady used to make, but she died during the last days of an Indian summer so many years ago and coffee hasn’t tasted the same ever since.

It’s winter now. It’s cold.

He misses the first tram. There are so many things missing these days