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Deep, black nothingness became blinding color. Images, snapshots, suffocating in their power, fill Jaehyun’s head. The swirling colors start blending together, painting a picture reminiscent of a scene from one of those countless doctor shows all over network television. The scene fluctuates, becomes fuzzy, and then returns as sharp as if he was seeing it through the lens of one of Johnny’s expensive cameras. He is looking at himself, lying frail in a hospital bed. His features are gaunt, the bags underneath his eyes puffy from obvious exhaustion. He is looking at himself on his deathbed, but he feels nothing.
He sees himself struggling to hold on. He watches as the will to continue leaves him, his eyes becoming glassy as he lets go. He watches the light fade, his life force being drained out. He can tell the moment his soul leaves, carried away by some unknown force to the tune of the obnoxious flatline sound on the heart monitor. He doesn’t care to know any more about it, nor does he much care to dwell on the image before him. He feels as if he weighs nothing. All his worries have melted away. As he stares at his own corpse, lying lifeless mere feet from him, he feels nothing.
It strikes him as ironic. He had always been afraid of death, and the uncertainty it brought. But now, having watched himself experience it, he feels nothing.
The scene flickers and fades out. He sees his friends, all wearing black. The weather was just as grim, storm clouds overwhelming the pale sky. A leaf blew, landing on a gravestone a couple yards away from him. He noticed upon further inspection that it was the grave of a child. He felt a twinge of sorrow for the family before it dawned upon him that this child died years before even his own father was born. He is no longer missed.
He shifts his gaze back to his friends, all shedding silent tears before the closed-casket service. Yes, that makes sense, Jungwoo would be distraught if he had to see his body. Even in death, he worried about his favorite boy.
Speaking of his boyfriend- where was he? Jaehyun looked around and still couldn’t find him. He felt a pang of something, an intangible sort feeling he could only really try and describe as longing combined with immeasurable amounts of pain. His Jungwoo, his pretty boy, his angel, was nowhere to be found. His own personal heaven on earth wasn’t attending his funeral. He was to be buried without the privilege of seeing the love of his life one last time.
The weight of it hit him like a freight train.
When he awoke, he was sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. His comforter was suddenly too heavy, as were his clothes, and his skin. He began to shake, feeling trapped in the confines of his own bedroom, in his own state of anxious turmoil. Suddenly, soft hands met his shoulders, a soft voice filling his mind, whispering comforting things Jaehyun wouldn’t be able to repeat if he tried. Jungwoo. He was here, sitting up next to him, rubbing his back and offering to get him some water. Jae nodded his head, left alone to let out deep, shaky breaths and come down from his panicked state of mind.
“I’m back, baby. I brought you some water, here, I’ll just leave it here,” Jungwoo said as he walked in, placing the clear glass cup on the nightstand beside Jaehyun. He sat down across from Jaehyun, reaching forwards to take both of his hands in his smaller ones and intertwine their fingers. “What, happened, Jae? Bad dream?”
Jaehyun nodded and let go of one of Jungwoo’s hands to take a sip of water. He drank half the cup in one gulp and kept his gaze fixed on his lap when he put it back down.
“You don’t have to tell me about it, pretty. You’re okay now, it’s all over.”
Jaehyun finally met Jungwoo’s eyes. “Can we stay awake? Watch some movies or something?” he asked, his demeanor visibly brightening when Jungwoo nodded his head. “Of course we can. We can stay here and cuddle for as long as you want, okay?” the latter answered, not batting an eye when Jaehyun let out another shaky breath.
Jungwoo was here, with him, and always would be.