Gripping and pulling and guilty and unending. Jonghyun supposed he was in pain, but was slightly numb, as if in some sick way he'd been expecting it.
Dead. Kibum was dead. His love, his life, his husband, his one, gone in the blink of an eye and Jonghyun was numb. Numb, and nothing could penetrate the bubble of nothingness around him except Kibum, but Kibum was gone.
Kibum was gone.
Jonghyun could barely fathom the words replaying in his mind, an unheard symphony like Kibum's sweet breaths on his chest as they grew older together, except now they couldn't because Kibum was gone.
Weak. Jonghyun was so weak in the face of his lover's empty shell, the body that had housed so many of his secrets and he had cherished in so many ways but those ways weren't enough to stop the merciless hands of death as they claimed his angel.
Jonghyun had no doubt in his blank mind that Kibum was an angel; it was something he just knew.
Kibum, his Kibum was a bright light in the face of anything, his witty remarks and too gorgeous body were all-knowing, and faced everything with a smile on his pouting lips (except haunted houses, as Jonghyun loved to about but never could again because Kibum was gone).
His eyes, glittering feline eyes as they watched him, encouraging though dismissive of his romantic nature (and how Jonghyun wished he'd been able to serenade Kibum with his cheesy pick up lines before he died, a list in his mind that would never be spoken alo