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"Hyung, are you okay? If you need a moment..."
There it was again. The question that made Jeonghan's mind go blank and threw him down into a pitch black hole. One that refused to let him back up, no matter how hard he pulled on the ropes he called his life.
People kept throwing it at him like he was supposed to have an answer to it, like the answer would be anything but an obvious no. He could give the same answer like he had the other 364 days before.
By now he should've answered but his mouth was too dry and words, any words, were stuck in his throat. A comforting hand on his shoulder told him that Mingyu understood, no explanation needed for the pain in Jeonghan's chest and for a few seconds breathing felt a little easier than usual.
-
At night Jeonghan still wore that hoodie as if it smelled like someone other than himself. It was stupid perhaps, even more so how a piece of fabric manipulated his brain into a state of calmness. Still, momentarily the hoodie smelled different and the body pillow in his arms felt more human than it should.
The ache in Jeonghan's chest hadn't faded, just simply shuffled into the background. A throbbing so dull and consistent, it had begun to align with his heart beat. Maybe, Jeonghan thought, it was alright that it was always there, always nestled deeply inside him so that he would never forget.
He would carry it all his life until every throbbing in his chest would stop entirely and his lungs gave their final breath. In an odd way such a morbid thought comforted him.
A soft sigh left his lips as he stared at the empty side of the bed next to him. When had he stopped crying at the sight of it? He couldn't remember. Maybe, somewhere between Christmas and New Year, when his emotions had been too heavy for a single person to carry. Or maybe, he had finally cried every single tear his body was able to produce.
His hand reached out and slowly moved over the sheets. Once. Twice. A little part of him still expected it to be warm, even after everything. Still foolishly expected to feel him.
Quickly, he pulled his hand back as if the fabric, or rather the lack of warmth had burned him. Jeonghan squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds. "Everything's okay", he whispered to himself. "You can breathe. It's fine. The world is still spinning."
But wasn't that the problem? The core of all evil? The world was still spinning, he was still breathing, still here while–. He didn't finish the thought, nausea already burning in his throat and his eyes began to sting with a pain that wasn’t exhaustion.
It took only a few seconds before he had peeled himself out of the blanket, rushed to the balcony and outside into the cold night air, only stopping when he stood at the railing with a heaving chest.
His gaze went upward, aimlessly tonight, though he usually spoke to the brightest star. The only star worthy of being him. "Why did you-..." His voice cracked and he looked down at his blank feet. Accusations weren't fair, he knew that.
Jeonghan took a deep breath, felt the wind tousle his hair almost like a gentle stroke and his heart calmed significantly. He liked to think it was him. "I just don't know how much longer I can do this without you..." He admitted to the wind, or the stars, or maybe just to himself.
Then a sniffle and a choked laugh. "They asked me about my emergency contact today at the doctor's office", he whispered as he began to play with his fingers just to be busy. "I picked Jisoo first because he... was there the entire time, I guess? But then I thought about who you would pick and put down Seungkwanie."
"You'd pick him for me. Isn't that right? Because you and Jisoo like to quarrel all the time and you were scared we pulled you into the mess. So Seungkwan. But first you would sulk because you can’t be my emergency contact." He exhaled loudly, glancing up at the sky with a sad smile. "Don't worry. You are still the emergency contact in my phone." The wind tousled his hair again as if in response.
Jeonghan wanted to cry. He was so close to just let the tears fall freely, ugly and untamed. However, his body was too tired to have a full breakdown at the moment and probably it wouldn't really be different tomorrow. Instead he just looked up and rested his head on his arms, which were already lying on the railing.
"Soonyoung asked me if we want to go together tomorrow, but I think I will go alone. We deserve some privacy, don't you think? The guys can pick me up after." He was silent for a moment, his heart feeling slightly more heavy for a beat. "Not like they would let me be alone, anyway."
Seconds blurred into minutes and minutes blurred into an hour or two. He stood there until life seemed more bearable again, more like the sheer force of reality didn't make him want to die. This was an accomplishment he could be proud of. An accomplishment that occurred more often nowadays and was something that seemed so out of reach a few months ago. Back when living seemed like a punishment for whatever crime he had committed in his past life.
With a tiny flicker of pride and a much bigger flicker of something bittersweet, he bid the night sky and his star farewell because he needed rest. Tomorrow would eat him alive and every bit of strength would be more than welcome.
-
There was a bouquet of forget-me-nots in Jeonghan's one hand and a wooden box in the other. With each step his feet seem to get heavier and his chest ached in a twisted state of pain and love. It didn't take long for him to reach the sleek stone with beautiful engravings on it.
Slowly he crouched down, placed the flowers on the designated spot—noticing pleasantly that most his friends had left flowers already but left the most prominent space for him—and then with a heavy heart pressed his hands against the cold stone. "Hey, Cheollie", he whispered before his lips began to wobble dangerously.
His eyes stayed glued on the picture of Seungcheol that stood right next to his grave for longer than they should have. It only deepened the obnoxious agony of what people call grief.
He sniffled, clearing his throat in an attempt to not lose control entirely. "I brought something with me," he began and held the box toward the grave, "maybe, it's a bit silly but I found those things when I cleaned the apartment the other day. You can be proud of me, Seungcheol-ah. I can motivate myself to clean and look through your things more often these days."
"Actually, I finally used those storage boxes we bought years ago. You know the ones that-..." He was stalling for time and that was actually a bit ridiculous. Not like Seungcheol's ghost would jump at him for taking a moment to breathe instead of opening the box. Jeonghan wished it would.
He took a deep breath before exhaling it shakily, then he held the box a little higher, showing it to the sun that was currently hiding behind thick clouds of grey. One moment passed, then another one before he opened the box with shaking hands while he cursed himself for shaking in the first place.
The wooden lid folded over and revealed a ring, three pictures and a few other memories that were scattered around in it. First, Jeonghan picked up the ring. The most prominent object in that box. He inspected it for a moment, felt the cool metal against his fingers and watched his blurry, barely there reflection.
"You really thought I wouldn't find it if you hid it under the mattress?" He asked softly and tilted his head slightly. "I knew the ring was there two days after you bought. It was a stupid hiding place..."
Back when Jeonghan had discovered the ring for the first time, his chest had almost combusted. He had been giddy about it for three entire days because the ring meant his Seungcheol was planning to propose to him. It didn't matter that there was no legal way to get married. The gesture mattered.
Obviously, he didn't directly show Seungcheol that he knew. It would've ruined it for both of them, but he definitely subtly teased his boyfriend more about it and every frown and sulk had tasted sweet on his tongue. He had bragged about it to his closest friends despite the fact that there was no ring on his finger yet.
One year and three weeks. That was how long Jeonghan had slept with this damn piece of metal beneath his mattress because Seungcheol was never given the chance to ask Jeonghan whatever he had planned to ask for instead of marriage. Maybe if Jeonghan wanted to spend the rest of their lives with him. Maybe something else entirely.
"It's too nice to rot away beneath the bed...", he mumbled before he slowly slid the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly. Of course, it would fit perfectly. "And I think, you would want me to wear it."
Because even if some day, through complicated circumstances, Jeonghan wouldn't be Seungcheol's anymore, Seungcheol still would be Jeonghan's. Forever. Frozen in the state of his heart belonging to Jeonghan by the fact that he no longer existed. No longer had a beating heart he could give away.
And if Jeonghan was allowed to have this ring to remember that Seungcheol in some way would always belong with him, he would proudly wear it with tears in his eyes.
He sniffled before he set the box down on the grave and plucked a picture from it. It showed him and Seungcheol eating at a Korean BBQ place. Jeonghan himself was grabbing something off frame with his chopsticks, mouth open to speak while Seungcheol looked at him so, so fondly. He didn't know who took the photo, didn't even know it existed until he had gone through Seungcheol's phone after his death.
For a second he contemplated to say something about the picture, decided against it and turned it towards the grave stone for Seungcheol to see. Then came the selfie from Kyoto. Sakura season, two grinning idiots in love and the flash of Jeonghan's phone. This one had hung on the fridge until earlier in this morning.
Lastly, he showed the group photo that looked more like a family photo. Seungcheol and Jeonghan the parents, Joshua the uncle with expensive clothes and no parenting principles, the rest of their friends looked like their children. All of them too drunk to even look slightly put together.
"It's been so long, Seungcheol-ah, and I still don't understand why you kept this exact photo in your drawer." He mumbled as his finger traces the figures on the paper.
The box was halfway empty by now.
Jeonghan would sit there with his boyfriend's grave for exactly two hours and thirty-six minutes before he would call Soonyoung to let him know he was ready to be picked up.
But the truth was, no time in the world was ever enough with Choi Seungcheol.
-
The restaurant his friends chose was alright. Cozy, but way too packed with people for Jeonghan's taste, though that was more personal preference.
Soonyoung's hand on his shoulders guided him through the crowd to their friends. He quickly greeted everyone before he plopped down in the seat between Joshua and Minghao.
"Have you been here long? I hope I didn't let you wait..." He struggled slightly to pulled off his jacket, cold cheeks burning from the warmth. Mingyu opened his mouth, but shut it again when Seungkwan kicked his shin under the table. He looked at Jeonghan with a small smile. "We didn't wait. It's more important you took your time talking to him, Hyung."
Jeonghan knew Seungkwan was just being nice and, perhaps, on another day he would have asked him to be honest but today it was one of the rare days he needed that kindness.
Everyone ordered their dishes and a few moments later their drinks got served. His heart was filled with the familiar heaviness of the aftermath of his trip to the graveyard, though it also felt lighter than it had over the last few days. It was Chan, who brought up the inevitable topic. "The flowers you guys picked were really pretty. I think he would have liked them."
A snort escaped Jeonghan's throat and instantly everyone looked at him. Some a bit concerned, scared he might have another breakdown. Maybe he was losing it completely now. But no, it was genuine amusement. "He would have liked most of them, but the one that were pure green? Yahhh..." A small smile. "He would have sulked about those."
Across the table a pinkish hue spread on Hansol's cheeks, though his face remained neutral. "Hyung would have sulked more if I had forgotten to bring some."
"Like he sulked when you didn't greet him at 0:00 sharp on his birthday?" Jihoon questioned as he took a sip from his glass. Seokmin smiled softly, a little sad beside him. "Choi Seungcheol was good at sulking."
"He would be even more upset if he knew all you were talking about today was his sulking" Seungkwan muttered under his breath and earned an offended look from Seokmin. "It's true, Hyung." Chan chimed in.
Jeonghan watched his friends for a moment. They made today feel less suffocating and there were no words to describe how thankful he was for them.
Not much later their food arrived and everyone began to busy themselves with light chattering and eating. Eventually, Joshua leaned in as he placed a Mandu on Jeonghan's plate. "How are you holding up?"
"I thought it would hurt more, but it felt strangely relieving?" It was more a question than an answer. Guilt bloomed somewhere in his chest, scolding him for not being utterly broken by today. His best friend caught it without Jeonghan having to say it. "You don't have to feel guilty, Jeonghan-ah. Over the last year you suffered more than enough for an entire lifetime. It's okay to feel the way you do right now."
Jeonghan had no response to that, so he simply poked around in his food. Then, quietly. "But doesn't he deserve a boyfriend that grieves him?" At that Joshua sighed softly. "He deserves someone, who loves him even after his death. Love and grief are not congruent. They can coexist for a while, but the grief is the one that needs to be let go of and not the love. So, you are doing everything right."
After a few second, Jeonghan nodded. Joshua's words seemed to ease the vile sprouting guilt at least a little bit. His friend gently patted his shoulder and gave him an empathetic smile.
Soonyoung's voice caught his attention. "Jeonghannie hyung, did you buy the purple flower arrangement for Seungcheol hyung's grave?" He asked while carefully stealing a piece of meat from Jihoon's plate across the table.
Jeonghan shook his head. "They are from his family, I think." He explained before biting into the Mandu Joshua had given him. Soonyoung nodded slowly. "Are you still close with them, Hyung?" Chan's question was hesitant as if scared to dig too deep in his hyung's still open wound.
Most of them had sporadic contact with Seungcheol's family but Jeonghan had always been family to his boyfriend's parents and brother. It wasn't the question that hurt. No, the question was perfectly understandable but how could Jeonghan tell them that he couldn't look Seungcheol's parents into the eyes? That he purposely kept the contact minimal because their pain tore his already broken heart into more, tinier pieces?
"His mother invited me to dinner next week." Was his answer, like it explained everything. Maybe, it did. Because nobody pressed, nobody asked any follow up questions.
-
It was late in the night when Jeonghan came home, too sober for this day to go on any longer. Though, he hadn't felt like drinking. Not really. The others had drunken a little bit but also kept it moderate because today wasn't a day to get completely wasted.
One year ago Jeonghan probably would have drowned himself in Soju if he hadn't been so preoccupied with scrubbing the blood stain off his shirt. Like if the stain vanished, time would reverse and Seungcheol would sit beside him again with that beautiful smile that showed his dimples, holding onto Jeonghan when he found something particularly funny during the movie.
It had supposed to be a nice evening. Watching some new Marvel movie, then have dinner at the little restaurant in a side alleyway, where their first date had been. The first part of the evening had been incredibly beautiful, from the walk to the movie theater to the stolen kisses in the bathroom stall of the restaurant.
And then, somehow, everything had crumbled down in Jeonghan's hands. One second they were walking home, the traffic lights flashing green for them and in the next second his boyfriend was shielding Jeonghan from the full force impact of a car, pushing him out of the way and taking the blunt hit in the process.
A drunk fifty-four old man with 2.6 promille alcohol in his blood had frontally hit Seungcheol's body with his car. Honestly, those and other facts about the accident Jeonghan only knew because the authorities told him afterwards and not because he actually remembered them.
He only remembered crying and holding his boyfriend and so, so much blood it made him feel dizzy. He remembered scrubbing his stained shirt in the hospital bathroom like a madman. Everything else was a blur.
There was no memory of him calling his friends, or Seungcheol's family. Faintly, he could recall Joshua bringing him home and sitting with him on the bathroom floor after Jeonghan had emptied his stomach for a few hours repeatedly. But that was it. There was nothing more.
A sigh left his lips as he plopped onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. His body ached with the kind of pain that came from psychological exhaustion rather than physical.
He felt ridiculous when he blindly reached for the phone being charged on the small table next to the couch. With a swift motion he unplugged it and was greeted by his boyfriend's lock-screen. A picture of Jeonghan posing cutely next to a giant cherry statue.
His fingers typed in the code like muscle memory, then he swiped until he got to the voice note app. Seungcheol had this weird habit of recording voice messages for all the kind of things he was too shy to say to Jeonghan or his friends or family directly.
Jeonghan had heard all those messages a thousand times by now and yet, they still felt like a balm to his bruised soul.
So, he randomly pressed play.
-
"Jeonghan-ah", Seungcheol began, feeling silly all of the sudden. "I think you are killing me." Then came a soft laugh. "Not literally, of course. But all you did was tease me about pouting after I lost that game against Wonwoo and I think I will actually die if you don't spend the rest of your life with me."
For a moment Seungcheol was silent, contemplating his words. "You would probably feel embarrassed and shy if I told you because you don't like these big, sappy confessions. Not Yoon Jeonghan's style. You rather listen to this on your own and then tease me later after you calmed your excited, little heart down."
Cheol sighed and rustling of fabric could be heard. "It's fine, though. I love you like that." Another silence followed. "So, if you hear this Yoon Jeonghan... I love you. A lot. And I hope I will forever see that sleepy smile on your lips after you wake up, or those mischievous giggles when you did something you actually weren't supposed to do, just for the sake of pushing the other person‘s limits."
"Okay, enough about that. We will talk about it some time, for now I have to pick up my angel from his work."
-
Oh, love could sometimes feel like agony, Jeonghan thought. But no agony in the world could make his love for Seungcheol disappear like a trivial feeling.
Because the love Yoon Jeonghan felt for Choi Seungcheol? That was a forever kind of feeling.