Onew

               The apartment seemed empty without him; it was all he could focus on. The sofa, though Jonghyun laid across it seemed abandoned. The kitchen, though Key was making breakfast in there for them all before they slept off the events of the night seemed deserted. The house was quiet. The house was disturbing. It was haunting and plaguing him.

                An image he would never forget, it repeated, like a bad piece of food in mouth. It felt like he was in a car and it had just hit a brick wall whenever he remembered. It was all he did. Remember. Over and over.

                Forgive me, he wanted to say, I am stood here fine, and you lie there in pain. I am sorry. He needed to cry.

                ‘Jong- Onew-!’ Key sung, calling their names out to call them to the kitchen, food was up and it was time to eat what he had lovingly prepared. But the smell was too much now the plate was in front of him . . . how did he get to the kitchen, Onew didn’t remember walking, all he could remember was the boy running towards him. And then he wasn’t running any longer.

                Turning away from the kitchen, Onew just walked away, he could do nothing less, of all the places he wanted to be, the things he wanted to do, this was not it. He needed to be alone, somewhere, anywhere, away from their faces. Full of sadness and questioning. How? Why? He couldn’t tell them, they would despise him. But he deserved their hatred after what he had done. Taemin would never be the same again, he didn’t need to hear doctors words to know that. He had felt the shattered bones beneath his hands, had the boy’s blood across his hands.

                ‘Jinki . . .’ Key had followed him.              ‘Let’s just sit here.’ The fine hand of Key’s tried to grab his own, but he pulled away. Key was worth so much more than he was. He didn’t deserve this kindness. ‘Please Jinki, this is not what Taemin would want.’

                ‘I . . . It’s . . . my . . .’

                ‘No.’ Key interrupted him, reaching forward and pulling him into a tight embrace.  Onew couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. The spilled out, great waterfalls down his cheeks, but he didn’t respond to Key’s hug, his arms stood motionless by his side.

                ‘Leave me alone Kibum. I don’t want to speak to you.’

                ‘You can’t push me away, Jinki I just won’t let you.’

                Onew turned away and went away from the main living area. It wasn’t here he wanted to be at all. He wanted it to be twelve hours before; he could change what he did then. He would stay beside the delicate youth that was Taemin.

Minho

                ‘Minho . . .’ A voice whispered, it seemed to gasp fro breathe and in pain. ‘Minho . . .?’

                ‘Taemin! I’m so sorry! I fell asleep!’      

                ‘Can you get me something to drink . . .?’

                ‘You sound so much better,’

                ‘I feel . . . drained. I feel . . . dead.’

                ‘I’m glad you’re not.’    

                His hair was stuck to his face from falling asleep; his head had been resting beside Taemin’s, though he sat in a chair pulled up alongside the bed. Rather than lying in it, helpless like Taemin.  He got up, shaking his dreariness away, to get some water, from a jug that a nurse had brought in sometime during the early hours of the morning. It once had ice-cubes it in, now there were only the slivers that remained of them. What had once reflected all the light that shone down upon them, now only fainted glimmered enough to be seen.

                ‘What happened?’ Taemin asked, his voice was quiet, weak, and meagre. It was unlike him, was it the pain? Was it the pain-killers?

                ‘You had an accident; you were struck by a pick-up.’ A look of panic flashed across his face, he must remember, he must be seeing it now, replaying it in his head, in slow-motion, waiting for the collision and the pain to hit him all again.

                A knock at the door, and a man came in, with a balding head and thick rimmed glasses; he looked very typical for his occupation.

                ‘Lee Taemin? I’m your doctor, I need to have a serious word with you about your recovery.’

                ‘Taeminnie- Your drink.’ Minho passed it to him, placing it into Taemin’s frail hand, he wasn’t sure he could even hold it. His thin fingers seemed limp and unusable. ‘I’ll leave you too it, I’ll be back in a bit.’

                Grabbing his jacket, he departed from the room, leaving behind Taemin with the doctor, to tell me ‘about his recovery’. Minho hoped it wouldn’t take long, so that his beautiful Taemin could be on stage beside him dancing once again. Flicking his hair side to side, like a puppy. A smile spread across his face, Taemin was just so beautiful when he danced. He wouldn’t be too long, Taemin would hate the direct attention the doctor would give him.

Taemin

                When the doctor left, Minho still wasn’t back. More than ever, Taemin needed Minho right now, his smile and his kind words, the soft, caring touch of his hand. The news, it was more than he could take, he didn’t want these tears that fell, he knew everyone would have already shed tears, now he was too, tears and tears, but these ones were real, this was the worst.

                The door opened, but Taemin didn’t even dare look.

                ‘Taeminnie~ What’s wrong?!’ He ran towards the crying boy, Taemin felt his soft hands grab hold of his own, rubbing them, comforting. Minho’s eyes however were cast downwards Taemin looked down at the bandages, they wrapped around his thin limbs like chains restricting him. He couldn’t take his eyes off them and as he reached forward to touch them, he felt the cold trickle of a tear roll down his cheek. 

                  ‘Taemin.’ Without looking up, Taemin knew that voice, strong with a sense of emotion, closing his eyes he sunk back into the hospital bed. He could picture the exact expression Minho had just from the tone of his voice. ‘Taemin, what’s wrong?’

                 ‘They said I can’t dance.’

                 ‘But that’s okay, no one expects you to, you’ve been through a lot and recovery takes time, the comeback can wait a bit, and then. . .’ Minho smiled, Taemin didn’t need to open his eyes to tell that much, ‘Can’t you remember how ridiculous I looked during the Lucifer comeback? It will be okay…’ The positive, optimism didn’t help the tears from falling, no, rolling down the young boys face. 

                 ‘No Minho, I can’t ever dance again…’

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~Lack of puncuations

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