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Han Jisung had grown old with time, ready to take his last breaths when he made his final request. Let him go to the ocean and see the bitter waves one last time. And now here he was, enjoying the view despite the frigid December winds. The surface of the water gleaming proudly in the day, he smiled as he leaned closer reaching his hand out to touch the shadow of a man reflected back to him. The hospital gown was horrid against his pale skin, not doing his age spots any favors. He could hardly recognize himself, his cheeks sullen in, wrinkles where his laugh lines used to be.
His thin lips curled up into a smile as his hand broke the surface, the boat rocked violently, pulling his footing from under him as he lost his balance. His lips parted in a temporary gasp as he was swallowed into the mass, the water invading every part of his body.
He was shell shocked to find himself within a memory he had thought he’d long forgotten, the crisp water around him as he followed the other deeper. He wasn’t sure why he had believed the man ahead of him when he said it was a great idea to go swimming before spring was in full swing but he hadn’t taken much convincing.
“See, isn't it gorgeous!?” the elder called out, turning just enough for him to catch his sharp nose line.
He fell breathless as he soaked up the other’s side profile, nearly forgetting to reply, “Yeah it’s just cold as hell!”
“I believe hell is meant to be seen as hot! So hi, I’m hell!” He waved, allowing Jisung to catch up.
“That would be funnier if we weren’t who we are.” He spoke, lowering his voice as he found himself right in front of him. The golden sun illuminating the deep chocolate brown in the elder’s eyes, dark strands blowing wildly in the wind. God he wished he could just stay here and drink in the tall view before him.
His hand was soon encapsulated by a larger warm one, finger padding brushing against his palm as he was pulled closer, “Hey, what did we say?”
“No deprecation.” He inhaled, a whiff of cinnamon sugar invaded his senses mixing with the salt of the water around him. “You’re really fucking pretty.” He muttered to himself, more so in awe.
“So I’ve been told,” he smiled, his mole on his nose becoming more visible as the space left between them was closed. Lips touching for a short moment, having to stop himself from chasing them as he was shoved into the water. His fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him down with him.
He was wrapped around the elder when they came back up, shivering but somehow his body felt like it was on fire, his mouth once again in contact with one much softer than his own. His arms coating themselves in goosebumps at the whiplash. He found himself growing more and more addicted to the other’s touch, not a care in the world for who might see him.
His heart soared as he came upon a realization, pulling back long enough to voice it, “You make me happy, Minho.”
I remember you. On that frosty February day it was so fucking cold but still the warmest I have ever felt. I will never forget. Minho… Lee Minho.. He gasped, coughing up the saltwater currently burning his lungs. His eyes brimming with tears before they overflowed but the old man refused to speak. Smiling sadly as he played with his fingers.
It wasn’t long after that he had passed, being laid to rest right next to the one who had opened his heart to the possibilities. The one who made him dare to wish for more, having fallen deeper and deeper in love with him from day one. And though they only got to spend a single winter together, though he passed before he ever got to truly tell him he loved him, he held him dear to his heart. Carving the memory of the man that once was, how blinding his smile was. But as time had come and passed he had forgotten his name, forgotten where he was, the old age catching up to him. But he knew he was meant to be laid to rest right next to him, he just hoped he could remember one last time, so he had gone to the ocean to listen to the echoes of what once was.