[FIC] Gone

Title: Gone
Characters: Kyuhyun
Rating: G
Wordcount: 413
Summary: It's hard to be left behind alone
A/N: I post this at a ridiculously early time in the morning especially for xxKumiko, whom I promised I would post this. xD Enjoy (?) reading. It might be a bit too short or confusing for readers, but this is all it will get. =P

- - - - -

A soft, flawless finger caressed the strings of the guitar, before pulling one up a little and letting go with a swift movement. The soft sound filled the room with its calming vibes, making the boy on the desk chair stiffen.

When he turns around to look, however, the room is empty and no milky skinned, brown-haired person is sitting on the abandoned bed with a guitar in his hands. With a sigh, the boy turns back to his computer, only to find that the game cannot captivate him anymore.

As he closes it and turns off his computer, he feels the emptiness in the room become even more noticeable and he realizes that this is the first time for him to shut down his game without someone nagging at him about it first.

He sighs again, getting his stiff body to move to make his way towards the cold, empty bed. Looking at it, he feels the sadness rise inside, conquering his stomach and turning it into one hurting bunch of nausea.

To have something to occupy himself with, he reaches out to the shiny guitar to take it from its stand and carefully places it on his lap. His fingers trail the six separate strings, gently exploring every dent in the plastic.

Absentmindedly he takes one of the strings in between his thumb and index finger and softly pulls it. When he lets go, however, there is no soft and sweet melody to fill the room. All one could hear was a cold, completely off-key ploink.

Tears start to burn in his eyes and he knows he should have expected this. He never had a way with instruments, they only bore him. He does have a way with computers, but even the fake reality of a world filled with the slaughter of monsters cannot chase the image of his cute, pink-cheeked hyung from his mind.

He turns to put the guitar back on its stand, only barely managing to reach far enough. While sitting back up, his eyes notice the pink-coloured bunny on the pillow. He grabs it and presses it close to his body, locking it up between his knees and chest.

Like that, he sits in the room of his best friend, staring at what must be the most beautiful face he has ever seen. Like that, his members find him, two wet tear tracks on his cheeks and his eyes still locked on the picture of his friend.