nothing left
title: nothing left
pairing: myungsoo/sungyeol
description: there was nothing left to his life but you.
It started out simple. You saw him. He saw you. A nod, a hello every now and then. You knew his name, nothing more.
Then one day, you saw him at your favorite coffee shop. He was just sitting there, sipping his steaming mug that filled the air with glorious smells. It struck you right then how lonely he looked. His face was blank, and his eyes were unfocused as lost himself in the realm of his thoughts, but somewhere in there you found this utter loneliness that almost broke your heart.
So you settled yourself across from him with your own cold beverage. He didn’t say anything, didn’t question you or so much as glance at you. You sat and stared at a point right above his shoulder, and he stayed wrapped up within his mind.
This became an odd pattern. You’d walk into the coffee shop as always and see him sitting in the exact same place every day. Like that first day, you sat down and stared. You stared, and he thought.
You began smiling at him when you passed him. Maybe it was your imagination, but you could swear you’d see a faint smile in the split second before he passed by. That one little smile got you through the day.
“Kim Myungsoo,” he said one day. You were in your daily routine of staring at the same point right above his shoulder, and his sudden words startled you.
“What?”
“My name. Kim Myungsoo.”
“Oh. Lee Sungyeol.”
Of course, you already knew his name. He already knew yours, too. But this was something. He’d broken a wall with his name, and that alone began something bigger than you could ever have imagined.
Those were the only words you spoke that day. But as time went on, you began exchanging more and more words until each day brought a long, deep conversation that you would ponder for the rest of the day.
You found out about his life, how he’d grown up in Seoul but decided to go to university in Gyeonggi, how he missed his family all the time, how music helped him through everything.
In turn, he listened while you explained how you’d grown up in Gyeonggi with your parents and younger brother, how sometimes you wanted to just run away, far far away from Gyeonggi to get rid of the pressure, how his parents expected so much of you when all you wanted to do now was paint.
You began meeting him in places other than the coffee shop and work. He took you to his favorite piano room at the university, and you sat leaning against a leg of the piano while he played. Some days you’d be tackling advanced calculus, and other days you’d simply be listening, letting the beautiful melody that flowed from Myungsoo’s fingers reverberate in your ears and in your heart.
Myungsoo asked to see your paintings, but you hesitated. You froze when he asked. Your paintings weren’t paintings of anything tangible but rather of feelings. It was inexplicable in words, but for you, painting let it out. When you painted, you felt so free. No one expected anything out of you when you painted. No one was looking for you in your art. No one would ever see you in your paintings.
“Sungyeol?” Myungsoo’s worried voice jolted you from your thoughts.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to show me. I understand.”
You took a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. You can come by my studio tomorrow, okay?”
He nodded, though he still looked uncertain.
Once he’d left, you put your head in your hands. These paintings had become a part of you, they were you. Each and every one had so much emotion and power in them and meant so much to you. You had never let anyone see them before. No one even knew you painted. Other than Myungsoo, anyways. Myungsoo was your life now, so why were you so worked up about showing them to him? Of all people Myungsoo would never judge you.
You couldn’t sleep that night because of all the anxiety built up inside you. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to call Myungsoo and tell him, “Sorry, I can’t let you see my paintings,” but then he would ask why, and you really didn’t want to answer that because you didn’t know.
The next morning, you looked and felt like hell. There were dark bags under your eyes, and even you could see the complete exhaustion in your dark pupils. You wanted to call it off with Myungsoo more than ever, but one little voice in your head stopped you.
Once you’d made yourself as presentable as you could manage, you left your apartment for your small art studio.
Myungsoo had said he’d be there around six in the evening, and he was true to his word. Your phone vibrated at 5:59 with a message that read, “I’m waiting outside.”
You stood up with a sigh. This was it.
When you saw him standing outside the building, you realized how perfect he was. His jet black hair was windswept beautifully, his eyes shone brighter than the stars, his straight nose was set perfectly on his face, there was just so much perfection about this boy that you hadn’t stopped to notice before.
He smiled when he saw you approaching, and that gave your heart a leap and another doubt to showing him your paintings.
You tried to smile as well, but judging from the way his smile faded a bit, your expression probably reflected how you were feeling right now.
“God Sungyeol, you look horrible. Are you okay?” Myungsoo asked, worried.
“I’m fine, just couldn’t sleep,” you muttered.
You could tell he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t question further.
“Lead on,” he said, gesturing to the tall building ahead.
Nodding slightly, you turned and began walking back into the building with Myungsoo right behind you.
You were silent on the elevator ride up to the 7th floor where your studio was. The elevator lit upon its destination, and the doors slid open. You stepped and paused for a moment before continuing toward your studio.
In front of the door to your art studio, the place that held a large piece of you, you stood and stared for a moment before slipping the key into the lock and turning it, unlocking the door to your heart.
You let Myungsoo step in before you. His footsteps echo in your ears and even now, you want to tell him to stop and lock the door forever.
Myungsoo walks to the middle of the room and stops, staring straight ahead at the piece you’ve been working on. Slowly, he turns and drinks in the details of each and every painting, not spending less than three minutes on any one of them. You feel so exposed that you want to shrink into an invisible hole and disappear.
When Myungsoo finally turns back to you, there are tears and millions of emotions dancing in his beautiful, dark eyes. He doesn’t even have to say anything; you see everything and more than he could ever say in words right there within his eyes, and now you understand what they mean when they say the eyes are the window to the soul.
He takes your hands and turns your palms up, tracing every line and stroking the calluses that you’ve gotten holding the brush so often. His tears drip onto your open palm, and you close them, feeling his emotions within your hands.
His eyes return to yours after eternity. The second you see the feelings swimming in his eyes, you can’t think anymore. You lean forward and press your lips to his, and when you feel him kiss back, you know your heart is his, it will always be his.
After you break the kiss, you proceed to kiss away his tears and bring him into your arms.
“I love you, Kim Myungsoo,” you whisper before kissing him again.
From that day forward, Kim Myungsoo was your everything. That painting remained unfinished, and the studio became dusty in your absence. Not that it made a difference, there wasn’t a thought spared to your studio because everything was about Myungsoo. Your mind was filled with Myungsoo every minute of the day, and you saw his face more than you saw your own house.
Your life was so full of bliss, something you hadn’t felt since middle school. The world immediately brightened when he came into sight, and his kisses made your heart swoon.
Most of all, seeing the smile on his face and knowing that you made it happen, that could carry you through to the ends of the Earth.
So you were the first to know when he found out his younger brother had leukemia. It was 2 in the morning when your phone rang. You picked it up groggily, and his tired voice told you, “Moonsoo has cancer. Leukemia.”
The first moment was shock, and then you began crying. Moonsoo was the sweetest little boy, a true angel. He hadn’t been feeling well for a while now, and Myungsoo’s parents had decided to take him to the hospital. The past few days had been hell for Myungsoo as he sat around imagining all the needles being stuck into Moonsoo’s body as the doctors did countless tests. Now, finally he knew, but perhaps he’d rather he didn’t.
“Oh my god Myungsoo, I’m so sorry,” you said.
“There’s still a chance he can survive, you know. We just have to find a bone marrow match. My parents and I are doing tests tomorrow,” Myungsoo said, but you could tell that he’d just about already given up.
You didn’t know what to say anymore, so you said goodbye and lay back on your bed, so scared for Moonsoo and wishing you were by Myungsoo’s side right now. Needless to say, you didn’t get anymore sleep that night.
The next six months might’ve been the most stressful of your life. You felt some of everything Myungsoo felt, and too many nights were spent crying and agonizing over Moonsoo’s condition. Neither Myungsoo nor his parents had a match with Moonsoo, and though they were still looking, the prospects were looking weaker and weaker.
Perhaps the worst of it all was not seeing Myungsoo as much. Maybe it was selfish of you, but you wanted to see him all the time. You understood that he wanted and needed to be with Moonsoo, but still your heart longed for him. The few times that you did see him, he looked exhausted and that alone made you want to cry even more. You held him in your arms as he talked about Moonsoo, how there was still hope, how they would find someone. Each time Myungsoo was more and more listless until he was saying the words to pretend they comforted him.
Seven months, thirteen days, two hours, and seventeen minutes after Myungsoo called that night (not that you were counting), you heard a banging at your door. You woke up instantly and your first thought was, Who the fuck is coming here at four in the morning? Nevertheless, you dragged yourself out of bed and opened the door, ready to yell at whoever it was.
The moment the door was open, a sobbing and broken Myungsoo fell into your arms. He was a mess, clothes dirty, hair everywhere, tears flowing out, and all he could choke out was, “Moonsoo.”
You understood in an instant, of course, and immediately you began crying with him. If anyone were to look in the unclosed door, they’d see two sobbing, delirious messes holding onto each other for dear life.
and you just sat there and held him in your arms because you were all he had left.
pairing: myungsoo/sungyeol
description: there was nothing left to his life but you.
It started out simple. You saw him. He saw you. A nod, a hello every now and then. You knew his name, nothing more.
Then one day, you saw him at your favorite coffee shop. He was just sitting there, sipping his steaming mug that filled the air with glorious smells. It struck you right then how lonely he looked. His face was blank, and his eyes were unfocused as lost himself in the realm of his thoughts, but somewhere in there you found this utter loneliness that almost broke your heart.
So you settled yourself across from him with your own cold beverage. He didn’t say anything, didn’t question you or so much as glance at you. You sat and stared at a point right above his shoulder, and he stayed wrapped up within his mind.
This became an odd pattern. You’d walk into the coffee shop as always and see him sitting in the exact same place every day. Like that first day, you sat down and stared. You stared, and he thought.
You began smiling at him when you passed him. Maybe it was your imagination, but you could swear you’d see a faint smile in the split second before he passed by. That one little smile got you through the day.
“Kim Myungsoo,” he said one day. You were in your daily routine of staring at the same point right above his shoulder, and his sudden words startled you.
“What?”
“My name. Kim Myungsoo.”
“Oh. Lee Sungyeol.”
Of course, you already knew his name. He already knew yours, too. But this was something. He’d broken a wall with his name, and that alone began something bigger than you could ever have imagined.
Those were the only words you spoke that day. But as time went on, you began exchanging more and more words until each day brought a long, deep conversation that you would ponder for the rest of the day.
You found out about his life, how he’d grown up in Seoul but decided to go to university in Gyeonggi, how he missed his family all the time, how music helped him through everything.
In turn, he listened while you explained how you’d grown up in Gyeonggi with your parents and younger brother, how sometimes you wanted to just run away, far far away from Gyeonggi to get rid of the pressure, how his parents expected so much of you when all you wanted to do now was paint.
You began meeting him in places other than the coffee shop and work. He took you to his favorite piano room at the university, and you sat leaning against a leg of the piano while he played. Some days you’d be tackling advanced calculus, and other days you’d simply be listening, letting the beautiful melody that flowed from Myungsoo’s fingers reverberate in your ears and in your heart.
Myungsoo asked to see your paintings, but you hesitated. You froze when he asked. Your paintings weren’t paintings of anything tangible but rather of feelings. It was inexplicable in words, but for you, painting let it out. When you painted, you felt so free. No one expected anything out of you when you painted. No one was looking for you in your art. No one would ever see you in your paintings.
“Sungyeol?” Myungsoo’s worried voice jolted you from your thoughts.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to show me. I understand.”
You took a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. You can come by my studio tomorrow, okay?”
He nodded, though he still looked uncertain.
Once he’d left, you put your head in your hands. These paintings had become a part of you, they were you. Each and every one had so much emotion and power in them and meant so much to you. You had never let anyone see them before. No one even knew you painted. Other than Myungsoo, anyways. Myungsoo was your life now, so why were you so worked up about showing them to him? Of all people Myungsoo would never judge you.
You couldn’t sleep that night because of all the anxiety built up inside you. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to call Myungsoo and tell him, “Sorry, I can’t let you see my paintings,” but then he would ask why, and you really didn’t want to answer that because you didn’t know.
The next morning, you looked and felt like hell. There were dark bags under your eyes, and even you could see the complete exhaustion in your dark pupils. You wanted to call it off with Myungsoo more than ever, but one little voice in your head stopped you.
Once you’d made yourself as presentable as you could manage, you left your apartment for your small art studio.
Myungsoo had said he’d be there around six in the evening, and he was true to his word. Your phone vibrated at 5:59 with a message that read, “I’m waiting outside.”
You stood up with a sigh. This was it.
When you saw him standing outside the building, you realized how perfect he was. His jet black hair was windswept beautifully, his eyes shone brighter than the stars, his straight nose was set perfectly on his face, there was just so much perfection about this boy that you hadn’t stopped to notice before.
He smiled when he saw you approaching, and that gave your heart a leap and another doubt to showing him your paintings.
You tried to smile as well, but judging from the way his smile faded a bit, your expression probably reflected how you were feeling right now.
“God Sungyeol, you look horrible. Are you okay?” Myungsoo asked, worried.
“I’m fine, just couldn’t sleep,” you muttered.
You could tell he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t question further.
“Lead on,” he said, gesturing to the tall building ahead.
Nodding slightly, you turned and began walking back into the building with Myungsoo right behind you.
You were silent on the elevator ride up to the 7th floor where your studio was. The elevator lit upon its destination, and the doors slid open. You stepped and paused for a moment before continuing toward your studio.
In front of the door to your art studio, the place that held a large piece of you, you stood and stared for a moment before slipping the key into the lock and turning it, unlocking the door to your heart.
You let Myungsoo step in before you. His footsteps echo in your ears and even now, you want to tell him to stop and lock the door forever.
Myungsoo walks to the middle of the room and stops, staring straight ahead at the piece you’ve been working on. Slowly, he turns and drinks in the details of each and every painting, not spending less than three minutes on any one of them. You feel so exposed that you want to shrink into an invisible hole and disappear.
When Myungsoo finally turns back to you, there are tears and millions of emotions dancing in his beautiful, dark eyes. He doesn’t even have to say anything; you see everything and more than he could ever say in words right there within his eyes, and now you understand what they mean when they say the eyes are the window to the soul.
He takes your hands and turns your palms up, tracing every line and stroking the calluses that you’ve gotten holding the brush so often. His tears drip onto your open palm, and you close them, feeling his emotions within your hands.
His eyes return to yours after eternity. The second you see the feelings swimming in his eyes, you can’t think anymore. You lean forward and press your lips to his, and when you feel him kiss back, you know your heart is his, it will always be his.
After you break the kiss, you proceed to kiss away his tears and bring him into your arms.
“I love you, Kim Myungsoo,” you whisper before kissing him again.
From that day forward, Kim Myungsoo was your everything. That painting remained unfinished, and the studio became dusty in your absence. Not that it made a difference, there wasn’t a thought spared to your studio because everything was about Myungsoo. Your mind was filled with Myungsoo every minute of the day, and you saw his face more than you saw your own house.
Your life was so full of bliss, something you hadn’t felt since middle school. The world immediately brightened when he came into sight, and his kisses made your heart swoon.
Most of all, seeing the smile on his face and knowing that you made it happen, that could carry you through to the ends of the Earth.
So you were the first to know when he found out his younger brother had leukemia. It was 2 in the morning when your phone rang. You picked it up groggily, and his tired voice told you, “Moonsoo has cancer. Leukemia.”
The first moment was shock, and then you began crying. Moonsoo was the sweetest little boy, a true angel. He hadn’t been feeling well for a while now, and Myungsoo’s parents had decided to take him to the hospital. The past few days had been hell for Myungsoo as he sat around imagining all the needles being stuck into Moonsoo’s body as the doctors did countless tests. Now, finally he knew, but perhaps he’d rather he didn’t.
“Oh my god Myungsoo, I’m so sorry,” you said.
“There’s still a chance he can survive, you know. We just have to find a bone marrow match. My parents and I are doing tests tomorrow,” Myungsoo said, but you could tell that he’d just about already given up.
You didn’t know what to say anymore, so you said goodbye and lay back on your bed, so scared for Moonsoo and wishing you were by Myungsoo’s side right now. Needless to say, you didn’t get anymore sleep that night.
The next six months might’ve been the most stressful of your life. You felt some of everything Myungsoo felt, and too many nights were spent crying and agonizing over Moonsoo’s condition. Neither Myungsoo nor his parents had a match with Moonsoo, and though they were still looking, the prospects were looking weaker and weaker.
Perhaps the worst of it all was not seeing Myungsoo as much. Maybe it was selfish of you, but you wanted to see him all the time. You understood that he wanted and needed to be with Moonsoo, but still your heart longed for him. The few times that you did see him, he looked exhausted and that alone made you want to cry even more. You held him in your arms as he talked about Moonsoo, how there was still hope, how they would find someone. Each time Myungsoo was more and more listless until he was saying the words to pretend they comforted him.
Seven months, thirteen days, two hours, and seventeen minutes after Myungsoo called that night (not that you were counting), you heard a banging at your door. You woke up instantly and your first thought was, Who the fuck is coming here at four in the morning? Nevertheless, you dragged yourself out of bed and opened the door, ready to yell at whoever it was.
The moment the door was open, a sobbing and broken Myungsoo fell into your arms. He was a mess, clothes dirty, hair everywhere, tears flowing out, and all he could choke out was, “Moonsoo.”
You understood in an instant, of course, and immediately you began crying with him. If anyone were to look in the unclosed door, they’d see two sobbing, delirious messes holding onto each other for dear life.
and you just sat there and held him in your arms because you were all he had left.