58years later

Taemin POV

I held the jagged and rusty metal piece with intricate design between my fingers. A pair of warm arms wrapped around my shoulder; the warmth that guided me through darkness and pain.

The empty road was covered with caramel-colored leaves, as the flowers wilted away in despair. With a breeze that rustled through the leaves, dried petals broke off, dropping on the floor eventually. The wind seemed to bring back memories that I’ve kept carefully in my heart.

Minho landed kisses on my forehead, wrapping his arm even tighter around me when he spotted that I was shivering. But I wasn’t shivering because of the weather, but the fact that I’m worried; I don’t know if I’ve made the right decision to return and reopen the past that I’ve long forgotten about.

We stood in front of the gate; the rust and moss that were growing on the metal gave away the fact that it’s abandoned and old. I hesitated for a moment, before slotting the key into the lock. With a slight twist to the right, it started to rattle when Minho gave it a slight push.

Walking down the concrete tiles, I stopped in front of the doorstep, searching for the courage within me. I looked at Minho for a second, hinting to him about my fear to carry on; to unlock the memories that I’ve been trying to forget.

“Should we leave?” He asked me in a husky voice, as I shook my head.

“No. Help me, would you?” Minho nodded his head as he reached out his hand for the golden door knob on the door. The door creaked open, as a gush of cold wind rushed into us.

My parents scent lingered in the air, accompanied by loneliness and grieve. Oh no, what have I done? I asked myself. How could I leave my parents in this manner? I compromised the promise I’ve made --- never to cry.

But why? Tears started to roll down my cheeks when I saw the portrait we have taken together.

Minho shifted me into his arms and patted my head as I began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Sorry.” I whimpered.

“Shhh…. It’s okay.” No, it’s not okay.

“Why does it hurt so much?” Muttering between my sobs, I wiped my tears away and shifted myself away from him.

I took a good look at the portrait again as flaking speckles of dried paint covered the dusty glass frame. Sweeping them off from the surface, I ran my fingers down the faces of the people in the picture. A woman smiling sweetly with her cherry pink lips, her hair bundled up into an elegant bun; she wore a necklace around her neck. That’s my mother.

Beside her was a man in a black suit, his lips slivered a smile. The man had brownish hair, which was gelled up in rather stylishly. The gaze and the way he placed one of his hands on the boy’s shoulder projects a fatherly image; a stern but wise man. Yes, that’s my father.

A shifted my gaze to the boy sitting on a chair in front of them, his hair was brown; just like his father’s. He grinned in a child-like manner, with both hands placed on his lap. The boy resembled his mother--- his sharp, feminine like features; and his father--- matured and calm within his gaze. That boy is me.

That was almost 60 years ago.

Minho held my hand and walked across the sitting room, as another portrait hung on the wall. I did the same thing--- wiped the dust off the frame before taking a closer look at the picture. It was a picture of a middle-aged couple; my parents.

The lady looked elegant, but her hair was grey, some wrinkles and freckles made her look aged. The smile in the previous picture faded away to forceful curls on each side of her lips. The man looked almost the same, but his gaze became cold and lost; like a bottomless pit.

There’s no one else in the picture besides the two of them.

How I wish I could say sorry--- for what I’ve done, for breaking their heart, for leaving. But I know that nothing I say could change the fact that they are gone. Nothing I say could turn back the time when I’ve made my decision.

How badly I wish I could rewind the time, to give them a hug and tell them that I love them so, so much. But everything is over; I’ve abandoned them, leaving their hearts in the same manner as this house--- In sadness, cold and loneliness.

I led Minho up the stairs that creaked at every single step we took. The door to my room was slightly ajar. The both of us walked into the room, as I reminiscence about the past again; where I sat on the couch by the window, smiling childishly when I see you walking down the street.

But now, the window pane is broken, as shattered pieces of glass lay on the floor. Everything else stayed in the exact same way--- the bed, the couch, the table. It seemed like yesterday, where I get disappointed when I woke up without you by my side.

On the table, was a bouquet of flowers--- brown, wilted and lifeless. I spotted a note tucked between the flowers, as I reached my fingers in to take it out; the dried petals scraping against my skin. For some reason, I was afraid; I dreaded looking at the note.

The ink was slightly faded and a little smudged, but I could easily spot whose it was. The handwriting was cursive but neat, as it writes,

Taemin,

Happy birthday

I miss you so much.

-Mum

I clenched the note in my hand, her words repeated itself in my head continuously.  I miss you so much… I miss you so much…. I miss you so much…

Minho wiped the tears off my face again, as he took the bouquet of wilted flowers from my hand. I’m crying not because I’m sad, but instead, the tears hinted my guilt, my mistake. I hit my hand against my chest, trying to sooth the pain as much as I could.

“Do you want to leave?” Minho caught hold of my hand to stop me, as he leaned himself forward. I nodded my head as he led me out my room.

… … …

The cemetery was cold; a place with regrets and despair.

If this is death, then what happens after you die? Would one lay in the stone cold ground, clueless about how the people alive wept for them?

Minho and I searched the cemetery, tomb after tomb, finally finding the two grayish concrete blocks at a corner. The state of the two tombstones left me wondering what kind of son I really was. Instead of flesh flowers, the roses were wilted, just like those in my room.

I knelt in front of the tombs, sweeping the dust and wilted leaves away. Minho stood beside me, as I reached out my trembling hands for the bouquet of white carnations from him. Staring blankly at the names that were carved on them, I am not sure what I should do---- should I cry? Should I tell them that I’m sorry?

Instead, I tilted my head to look at Minho who was squatting beside me.

“I’m such a bad son, aren’t I?”

“No, you are not.”

“I thought it was okay for me to leave even though I know that they have no one else but me.” I whimpered, as Minho knelt beside me and squeezed my hands that were shivering in cold. I looked at him in confusion, but he smiled at me sweetly.

Minho tilted his head to look at the tombstones, as he greeted my parents for the first time.

“Mum, Dad.” He whispered under his breath, “I will take care of Taemin, because I’ve no one else but him too.”

He pressed his soft, comforting lips against my forehead.

“And I will love him the way you do.”

I smiled a little, before leaning my head against his shoulder.

Lee Taemin and Choi Minho would love each other, till the end of the world.