Work Text:
It’s been three years since that fateful day. Three years since Han Seungwoo’s 19th birthday. Three years since the day Cho Seungyoun died.
Three years and Han Seungwoo still hasn’t fully recovered. Many nights are spent waking up at unnatural times, many mornings start by crying.
But that’s not to say that Seungwoo isn’t getting better. He is. The first few months after Seungyoun’s death were literal hell for him and everyone around him. He would lock himself in his rooms for days at a time, only coming out when someone came and forced him. He was barely eating, barely sleeping, barely living. His days were spent crying and thinking about Seungyoun. He knew Seungyoun wouldn’t have wanted this, but he couldn’t help it. His world had been taken from him.
Seungwoo opened his wallet, looking at the photo he kept inside. It was his favourite photo of Seungyoun. The boy in the photo’s eyes were so lively, sparkling with joy, his dimple on his chin on display. The photo had been taken a few weeks after the two had gotten together. Seungyoun previously had the Seungwoo equivalent framed beside his hospital bed. When asked why he had the photo framed, Seungyoun would answer, “so I can see your smiling face even when you’re not here.”
The radio in his car was a quiet hum in the background. Songs from the past dancing in the small space of his car. Some more recent songs played, like Almost is Never Enough by Ariana Grande. At this song, Seungwoo slowly turned the volume up. Previously, Seungwoo held no feeling for this song. Until he met Seungyoun. Late nights spent with Seungyoun, the younger boy singing softly to him, made him come to love this song. Seungwoo deeply regretted never recording the boy’s singing. Maybe, just maybe, if he had recordings of his voice, then it would have been much easier. But all he had were the photos. The moments frozen in time. Stationary. Unmoving. Never aging, only wearing.
Seungwoo didn’t see it. Or maybe he chose not to see it. Two blinking lights came from his right, swerving, curving, going off course. Even if he did see it, it would be too late. Just like how he was too late in finding Seungyoun.
A large force hit into Seungwoo’s car, hurling it out of its tracks, tipping it over. A large shockwave of pain filled Seungwoo’s senses, every nerve in his body screaming at him, telling him to recover. But maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe this was his fate. Maybe the numb taking over his body was a good thing. The black clouding his vision, not being rejected, but instead accepted. This was meant to happen, he could sense it. He knew it.
Everything would be over. Everything would change.
But he would finally be with Seungyoun again.