The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It felt like loosing your co-rememberer meant loosing the memory itself, as if the thing we'd done were less real and important than they had been hours before.

---

His smile.​​​

I have always liked his smile, that was why I would always ask him to smile. I really felt like it could light up the whole world, and it did. It lighted up my world.

His voice.

I fell in love with his voice when I heard it for the first time. When we were trainee we used to often sing together. He said he loved my voice and really wanted to have a collaboration with me someday, after we would both have debuted. We had that opportunity.

His talent.

I spent days watching him working on his music. Writing songs, writing down ideas for his next comeback, choosing the right melody.
He had so much talent.

His tattoos.

I found them so attractive. I liked to watch them and trace their lines with the tip of my fingers. He liked when I did it, too. He did the same thing with mine. We relaxed under our touches.

His hair.

I liked it with every color he tried. His black hair were the best, though. It was so silky and soft, I loved to comb it while he was writing, he said it helped him to concentrate.

His music.

He expressed all his feelings and problems with his music. You could know the real him whe