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Sieun had gotten his revenge. In the form of blood, broken bones, screams of pain, and those people never being the same… he’d avenged Suho.
But he couldn’t fix the gaping hole in his heart, the void inside him that yelled constantly to be filled. That emptiness that could only be filled by one person. One person, who Sieun couldn’t talk to anymore. Whose smile, whose light was ripped away from Sieun like some sort of cruel joke.
Suho. Suho was gone, and Sieun missed him dearly. His entire being yearned to have him back. To hear his laugh, to feel the wind against his face while riding around the neighborhood, to smell the smoky scent of barbecue stuck to his work shirt while at school. Sieun missed him terribly.
Really. What had either of them done? Sieun wasn’t one for religion, but he found himself asking God, or whatever was out there, to just explain. Explain why Sieun had to live in this cruel world without Suho. Why he’d only had him for less than a month, and why that couldn’t last.
Sieun just wanted to know why. Why? Why couldn’t Sieun see Suho’s smile anymore? Bask in his light, in his beauty. The beautiful person he was, inside and out. Stunning, blinding. Too good for Sieun but still his. His Suho.
It was meant to be like that forever, forever till the end of time. But it wasn’t, and Sieun could do nothing more than miss Suho. With each hour that passed, Sieun would remember. From when the sun rose at dawn, to when it set in the evening, Sieun missed Suho.
Sieun even started to write letters too, addressed to Suho. Maybe when he wakes up, he’ll read them, Sieun thinks. It’s seriously pathetic.
Dear Suho, he writes. Then he crosses out the dear . They weren’t ever close like that , right?
Dear
Suho,
Are you well? How’s everything? I’m sorry I can’t be there for your recovery. Travelling from Yeongdeungpo to Seoul is difficult. Either way, I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry.
Sieun feels dumb writing to Suho as if he was awake. As if he wasn’t still hooked up to machines in the hospital, unmoving. He feels the weight of his complete patheticness push down on his shoulders, keeping him sitting at his desk chair. He just keeps writing.
I’m sorry I did all that. I crossed the line you talk so much about. But I feel like they deserved it. No, they definitely did. I only regret it because they transferred me because of it. Now it’s more difficult to visit you. My parents got me an apartment here, so it’s easier to go to school.
I’m really sorry for everything. Sometimes, I stay up at night and just apologize. I hope you heard it, somehow. Maybe angels relayed the message to you. I don’t know why, but I’ve started thinking about angels and stuff like that all of a sudden. Have you seen one? Maybe you can tell me about them.
I don’t want to tell you everything in a letter, so I’ll end it here. I’ve really missed you, Suho-ya. I’ll see you soon.
Love,
Sieun.
The ink bleeds, as teardrops fall quietly on it. When had he started crying? Red ink feathers into the fibres of the paper. Red was fitting. It suited Sieun. Sieun spilled blood for Suho. And he spilled tears for Suho. Suho was as constant as Sieun’s heartbeat, pumping red blood throughout his body. And for Suho, Sieun was red.
“I miss you… Suho.”
The words break out into the quiet of the night.