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Blades of grass were itchy against Hoseok’s skin as he remained settled in the spot he had chosen hours ago. The autumn chill nipped at his nose, chilled his fingers stiff, and left permanent chills wracking his spine. Hoseok had sat down early that morning; though it was evening now, the sun looked ready to disappear. “One more minute,” he told himself for the billionth time that day. This was one of the many reasons he strayed away from visiting your grave often. He spent too much time and neglected his own life outside of the cemetery to just sit. Quietly, not even brimmed with joy to talk to you about all you’ve missed since you left.
His stomach rumbled; he hadn’t eaten all day.
He shifted positions to his knees as he leaned over to grab his bag. Gently, he pulled his final gift to you out. He had already left plenty of flowers, normally he would just have them sent rather than placing them himself. He futzed with the flowers for a second, fixing them to be perfect once again. “I thought you might want this, more than any kind of flower.” He sighed, shoulders dropping as he settled back.
His hands shook as he extended them, he blamed the cold rather than his sadness. Gently, he placed the small box down before the headstone. “Do you remember it?” He smiles, though it looks pained. He remembered fondly when the music box had made its way into your hands. It had been one of the early birthday presents he picked to gift you. A pretty, glass music box. A little outdated, but you liked that kind of thing. You would stare in adoration, watching the couple spin around to pretty chimes and dings. You wind it so much that Hoseok would tsk and finally tell you to leave it be. He regretted all those times.
“Should I wind it for you?” His fingers stung as they dug into the notch and turned. He waited, staring at the cracks situated in the little glass man; it had taken him hours to fix it after he found it broken. It had been worth it, but having to stare at it every day just reminded him of you, and left him ashamed to have even let it break in the first place. You would hate to see it in shatters.
He lets the tune play, though the couple doesn’t spin and dance anymore; which had been your favorite part. He sucked in a deep, shaky breath. The distant sting of tears built in his eyes and throat as he tried to clear it away. “You didn’t know it was going to be your last goodbye,” He could clearly hear Yoongi's comforting words. “You didn’t know, it’s not your fault.”
“I should leave now.” He nodded to himself, pretending there weren’t tears starting to fall down his cheeks again. He didn’t move to get up though, just stared longingly at your grave, eyes drifting from the flowers to the music box. He’s stuck there, too tired to stand up. “Just a moment,” he told himself.
The picture of a man sitting at a grave, with tired sunken eyes haven lost the will to get back up and leave; what a sad picture it was.
