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Vernon always thought Seungkwan looked beautiful in the morning. He always looked beautiful, really, but Vernon particularly loved the early morning moments of him sleeping, chest rising and falling softly with each intake of air. Everything about him emitted a peaceful aura: no tension, no worry, only Seungkwan and the light sound of his breaths. Sunlight streamed into the apartment, sending the soft touch of dawn across the part of his face that wasn’t smushed into his pillow. Vernon watched as it filtered through the paper thin curtains hanging by the windows— passing right through him too.
He reached his hand out, lightly brushing his thumb over the soft skin of Seungkwan’s cheek. He soon pulled away as he saw the sleeping boy’s face turn into a frown. Oh, right. Seungkwan couldn’t feel the love in Vernon’s dead touch, only the coldness.
He sighed, thinking back to the mornings they used to have, before he became a ghost. Back then, he would brew fresh coffee and pour it into Seungkwan’s favorite mug, taking it back to the bedroom for him to have when he woke up. Once the boy arose, he would always sit up and lean against Vernon’s side, sipping the drink until it kicked in enough for him to get out of bed and take Bookkeu for his morning walk.
Looking down at Seungkwan again, Vernon wondered if he still remembered those days, or if the memories of their time together had begun to fade from his mind. Despite how much he wished for the latter not to be true, he had a feeling that it was, and after seeing the dust collect on the framed picture of him on the wall, Vernon could sense that his own existence was fading as well. He wasn’t exactly sure when that photo had been taken, but whenever it was, he wished he could go back to that day. He wished he could still brew coffee for Seungkwan in the mornings, wished he could still lightly kiss Seungkwan’s face to stir him from sleep, wished he was still alive.
Slowly, Seungkwan’s eyelids fluttered open, and he lifted his head from the pillow, turning to face Vernon.
“G’morning, love” Seungkwan smiled, his words slurred from sleepiness.
For the second time in his life (the first being his death), Vernon’s heart stopped. Did Seungkwan know he was there? Was the love of his life somehow aware of his presence? Maybe everything was only a dream.
“Boo?” Vernon whispered, his voice close to breaking as tears began to form. “Can you see me?”
Seungkwan’s eyes were full of fondness as he reached out towards— oh.
Curled up on the bed, right next to Vernon, was Bookkeu. The mountains of hope inside him crumbled as he watched Seungkwan pull the small dog closer.
“I love you,” Seungkwan said, smiling again.
Vernon wanted to shout— I love you too; even if I’m not alive to say it, I still love you. But he knew Seungkwan’s words weren't directed at him. And even if they were, he wouldn’t be able to say anything in response, because despite what the supernatural stories say, ghosts can never be heard. Or seen. So if they have love in their hearts, ghosts can never show it.