“You should sit down,” you say to Taemin. The boy rolls his eyes, hard. You huff out a breath. “I’m serious, Taemin, sit down. I know it doesn’t really matter that much to you, seeing as you don’t have a body, but I have a feeling that you’re going to need some… physical support.”

He eyes you warily, his stare sad but also suspicious of you. He finally listens and sits down on the couch. You start pacing, wondering how to tell him everything you’ve found out without making him sad or angry, but it’s not really possible, you realize.

“Just speak your mind,” Taemin interrupts you. “You went to visit Ae Sook, right?”

You stop to a halt, snapping your eyes up at him. Weirdly, at that moment you remember the kiss and look down a second later, trying to stop a blush from crawling up your face.

“Yeah,” you admit.

“How is she?”

His voice is vulnerable. Shaky.

“Good.”

The only sound in the room is that old kitchen clock at this point. It tick-tacks, echoes through the corridors and rooms, rhythmic with your heart. Taemin is staring at you, waiting for more. You can feel his heated gaze on your face, but you can’t make yourself look back.

He’s going to disappear soon, you think to yourself. You should take advantage of his presence till you can.

“She’s a psychologist,” you mumble. It stumbles out of your mouth. Taemin perks up, his eyes flashing momentarily in recognition and happiness. Then they became hazy again, melancholic.

“She always wanted to become a therapist,” he mutters, fixing his gaze on his knees, where his elbows are resting. You swallow hard, your heart aching at the sight, at that blissed-out, sad expression. How can a person be happy and sad in the same time?

“What about…” he starts then, his voice barely hearable. “What about my kid?”

You feel tears gathering in your eyes, prickling like sand under your skin. The next time you speak up, your own voice sounds like it’s coming from behind a wall. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, your throat dry.

“He has your genes,” you reply.

Taemin’s eyes get wide. You can’t stop your own eyes from crying and a tear drops off your cheek, hits the floor with a familiar pac.

“It’s a boy?” he asks. “How old—“

“A few years older than me,” you gasp out.

Taemin closes his eyes shut and bites his lip. It looks painful. His fists are clenched.

“What’s his name?” he asks after what feels like ages.

“Jongin.”

He laughs bitterly, looking up in disbelief, as if cursing the person who made him like this, wondering how the hell he ended up here.

“You knew about him,” you say. “You knew you had a kid.”

Taemin shots you a glare and you feel so much sorrow when he looks at you that your knees go weak. Because even if he’s shooting daggers at you, there are tears in his eyes, gathering and making his vision blurry. His jaw is clenched so hard you’re afraid it’s going to crack.

“So what?” he asks, his tone daring. “Are you going to lecture me now? Tell me what a ty father I was? Tell me that I should’ve been there for him, raise him?”

The air around you is tense. You want to go back.

You want to go back to the time you didn’t know anything about him, to the time he didn’t act like this, to the time he didn’t think about his past. To the time he’d bicker with you, laugh at you or with you, comment on the books you’re reading, tell you how to handle gossips, how to ignore s, how to appreciate every day of your life.

You want to go back to sarcastic remarks, cheerful greetings, and soft ‘goodnights’.

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

The word is like a red sign inside your head, like police sirens, it doesn’t want to shut up.

“No,” you finally say. Taemin is now staring pointedly out of the window, his fists and jaw still clenched, his eyes half-lidded, his whole face and shoulders tense and shaking from strain and pain and trying to hold back his emotions. “You’ve made a mistake. You need to fix it.”

“You’re the one to talk,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “What about fixing your relationship with your mom? What about your father? You talk as if you’re any better than me.”

“I’m still learning!” you shout in panic. “And you’re disappearing, Taemin, your time is running out. If you disappear, they’ll leave for the rest of their lives thinking you never wanted them!”

“Because I didn’t want them!” he shouts back, tears finally falling from his cheeks. “I didn’t want them, that’s the whole point, I didn’t want them and then I did, and I was punished for my—“

“You weren’t punished for anything!” you gasp out, taking a step closer and gesturing vividly. “It was an accident!”

“It was fate, it was supposed to happen!”

“Bull it was!” you place your open palm on the table with a loud bang, making him jump. “There is no such thing as fate! The whole world is just a sick spider web of coincidences, chances and timing. I don’t believe in such thing as fate, because if God is fate, he’d never let anyone suffer as much as you had to suffer.”

“Now we’re going to talk about God?” Taemin scoffs in disbelief.

“You know what?” you counter. “Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was a coincidence. Or maybe it was just you being a ing idiot.”

Your feet suddenly go off the ground. You yelp in surprise as your whole body jerks back as if someone just pushed you with all the force they had, and you end up on the floor, a few meters back, and hit your head on the wall. You hiss and curl into a ball, covering the hurting spot with both your hands.

Your breathing comes out in stutters and you feel the back of your head throbbing in dull pain, everything around spinning. You’re not sure if you’ve laid down or if it’s just your vision going crazy.

“Eun Ri?” Taemin calls, panicked. You feel his cold as ice hands on your shoulder and moan in pain at the contact. He pulls away like burned. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Your fingers are weirdly wet. You touch the place you’ve hit on the wall and feel warm water there. You frown, straightening up your arm and glancing at your fingers.

Blood.

Taemin swears loudly and runs off to somewhere. You’re too confused to comprehend the situation, but the first moment of misperception quickly passes. Your eyes get sharp again, your breathing comes back to normal, and there’s only pain then.

Taemin comes back with your phone in his hand. You gape at him.

“You brought my phone?!” you shout. “Since when—“

“Shut up,” he says, crouching down beside you and grabbing your wrists so you can show him the wound.

“It’s okay,” you choke out. His touch is painful. “Tae, it’s fine, it’s barely a scratch, I don’t even feel dizzy anymore.”

“You’re bleeding, you’re going to need stitches.”

“Not true. It’s like cutting yourself with a knife, it’ll heal in two days.”

“Head wounds don’t heal that fast. Call an ambulance.”

“Taemin—“

He grabs you by your cheeks, his touch making you hiss, and he knows that it’s painful, knows it very well. And he still decides to force you into looking into those dark orbs of his until you comply.

“I did this,” he says. “I never did such thing. I don’t know what’s happened.”

“It might be because of me being a .”

“God, you’re babbling. Call the ambulance now, I’m begging you. Your voice is getting surly.”

You roll your eyes, but it makes you dizzy. So you call the ambulance, quickly telling some lady your address. You also add that they don’t have to hurry and Taemin scolds you after.

“Lean on the wall,” he dictates, snatching your phone away. “I’m going to try unlocking the door.”

You nod silently, your tongue yet again very heavy, but this time it’s not because of your mental state. You feel your head throb and you put your hand on the tiny cut.

Taemin lets out a victorious yelp in the hallway as he succeeds to unlock the door and you feel a bit freaky at that. Then he comes running, asks you where did you leave the ring, and you don’t even notice as he slips it back onto your neck.

*

You open your eyes to see a sterile, white room. At first you almost don’t notice Taemin there; his body is almost transparent.

He looks like an icicle, you realize, the edges of his face and hands and shoulders flashing a little, his eyes being the only darker elements in his overall appearance. The said eyes are now staring at you in shock and worry.

“You’re almost gone, Tae,” you rasp out. Panic flashes through his face and he shakes his head, but before he can tell you what’s wrong, another, female voice speaks up.

“What did you say?”

It’s your mom. You close your eyes again with a growl. She takes it for a sign of pain.

“Nurse!” she shouts, standing up and circling the bed to look at you. She almost walks into Taemin, but he stands up from his own chair and dodges in the last second.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to call anyone,” you mutter. “, did they drug me? I feel like I’m floating.”

“Language,” the woman warns you. “They had to put on stitches on your head. What the hell happened?”

Your mind is not working straight and your tongue doesn’t want to cooperate with you.

“Would you believe me if I told you I saw a ghost?” you ask with a smile. “You taught me how, remember?”

She frowns deeply.

“Remember Mr. Waffles?” you drawl, gesturing a little. “The… cat.”

“Mr. Waffle the cat,” your mom repeats numbly. “Yes.”

“Eun Ri,” Taemin warns.

“You told me in order to see a ghost, I have to look at him and greet him, and bam! Taemin showed up.”

“Eun Ri! Shut it!”

“I think you need to sleep some more,” your mom says, pulling the covers up your chin and tucking you to sleep, just like she used to do when you were a kid.

*

You wake up an hour later to see a bouquet of pink roses on your bedside table. Then you see Taemin sitting on the same spot as before, on your left side. You also notice that you’re not, in fact, alone in the room - there’s a middle-aged mad sleeping right beside you and on the other side of the room there’s also a little girl, staring at something beside you. You follow her gaze to eye Taemin warily.

You try to sit up, getting his attention. He stands up, as if ready to catch you if you get wobbly, but you snort at him.

“It’s a little cut,” you remind him, rolling your eyes. Maybe it’s because of your drugged mind that you forget about the girl obviously staring at you and about all the things you’ve learned about talking to yourself.

“They gave you a lot of drugs,” Taemin counters. “You okay?”

“Dandy,” you sigh. Then it gets to you – Taemin spoke back and didn’t seem worried. You look at that little girl and she glances back and forth between you and Taemin in shock.

“Unnie,” she whispers. “You can see that man too?”

You raise your brows at her. “Can you?”

She nods. Taemin lets out a sigh.

“How old are you?” you ask the girl.

“Ten,” she replies. “How can you see him? I have never met an adult who can see them too.”

“Them?” you ask. Even Taemin snaps his head up at the kid.

“Spirits,” she shrugs.

“I can only see him,” you say, pointing at Taemin. The girl gapes a little, then her face falls.

“Oh,” she gasps.

“You can see more of them?” you frown. Sending an unsure towards Taemin, you get a matching one in response.

“Yeah, every day and everywhere,” she says. “There’s a lot of them here.”

“Does any of them know what’s on the other side?” Taemin speaks up for the first time. The girl startles a little at his voice.

“You can’t talk about it,” she whispers. “You and your kind.”

“This is so cliché,” you mutter.

“Everything is cliché, yeah, we get it,” Taemin snaps at you playfully.

The girl asks you about Taemin, how come you can see him but don’t see other ghosts, and you basically have a very heated conversation until your mom decides to come and end it. The girl shuts up immediately, probably used to acting quietly in front of adults.

“Two friends of yours brought you these flowers,” she says, pointing at the roses. “You were sleeping, so they told me they’ll visit tomorrow. But you’ll be free to go home in the morning. Nothing bad happened to you, barely a concussion.”

“What friends?” you ask. She shrugs, because of course she doesn’t even know who you hang out with.

“That frog and Kyungmi,” Taemin says, rolling his eyes at the woman. “Tsk.”

You send him a glare that says, “and you want me to get along with her?” and he huffs out an annoyed breath.

“I give you that,” he mutters. “It was fun watching Minho struggle not to talk to me while Kyungmi was here, though, A plus for effort.”

You give him a look that says “you’re an ”. He gets it.

*

Your mood becomes gloomy again once you enter your house again, your mom and Taemin in tow. Your mom makes you some kimchi and you watch her during that time. Taemin goes somewhere, but you can feel him lurking in the walls. At some point he even sticks his head down the floor upstairs, so his head dangles from the ceiling right above you.

He’s trying to be playful, but his eyes are sad and full of guilt.

Your mom leaves the moment she puts the bowl of food in front of you and patting your cheek.

You’re left alone.

Taemin comes to hover around, looking at you warily, not sure what to say, apparently. He sits down on the stool beside you, playing awkwardly with his fingers.

“You were out of line,” he says. You almost choke on your food. You turn towards him in disbelief.

“That’s all you’re gonna say about throwing me onto a wall?” you spit. Taemin makes a disguised face at the pieces of meat and veggies jumping out of your mouth.

“I said I’m sorry,” he defends. “Earlier.”

“I was barely conscious to understand,” you scoff, picking up the bowl and going upstairs. Taemin trots after you like a kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry, okay!” he shouts. “I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t know I could do it!”

You turn on your heel to face him.

“Do you see what’s happening?” you ask. He shakes his head, opening his mouth, as if saying, “enlighten me.” You take a deep breath, “You’re going psycho-ghost on me. Berserk.”

He blinks a few times. “Poltergeist?”

“And you’re disappearing. I’m scared, Tae.”

You stare at him, seeing the stairs and walls behind him, where his body should practically cover them. He still looks like an icicle and it gets worse.

“What if you disappear?” you ask, squinting at him, and before he can answer – because he already opens his mouth, taking in a sharp breath – you continue, “Let’s say, you had a chance to fix things, but you’ve been here too long so they have to make space and get rid of you. But since you didn’t finish your business, you’re not even going to go to Heaven.”

He closes his mouth.

“You need to sort out your stuff, doesn’t matter if you want it or not.”

“I want it,” he says quickly. “I want it,” he adds and it’s quiet. Painful.

“Then I’ve got a plan,” you say, your heart beginning to ache already.

*

You place a pen on Taemin’s right. He squints at it and at the piece of paper before him.

“You want me to write.”

You nod.

“We can’t go to Ae Sook and your son and tell them that ‘hey, your boyfriend and father has been living with me for the past few years as a ghost, he wants to say hi’. That’s just rude. So you’re gonna write a letter.”

Taemin raises his brows, glances at the paper, back at you, back at the paper. Then he lets out a loud “huuuh?” and stares at you again.

“You want me to write a letter,” he says. “To them?”

“Just to Ae Sook.”

“Why.”

“Let’s think this through, shall we?” you say with a sigh. “You died. You didn’t know you’re going to die. Therefore, you didn’t leave a will or a note, or anything, really, because you didn’t know you were going to die. Right?”

“Right.”

“So it would be weird to just go to Ae Sook and give her a letter in which you obviously know that you’re dead. The letter has to look like it’s been written before you died. You didn’t know Jongin’s name at that time, you didn’t know you were going to die, you just wanted to fix things. You still with me?”

“Uh-huh,” Taemin mutters, frowning at the white, empty paper.

“But writing a letter would be weird, too,” you say. “Because you never wrote letters, so why would you suddenly write a letter, leave it at home and go to Ae Sook’s, right?”

“Uh.”

“So we need to make it look like notes. Like you were trying to sum up your thoughts, maybe make a speech.”

“To make it look normal, and not suspicious. I get it.”

His voice is weak and shaky again. You have to blink when you suddenly see his whole body melting with air, and you remember that awful moment right before touching him that you thought he’s going to disappear already.

“We need to hurry,” you say.

“I don’t know what to write.”

You sit down on your bed while he’s still by his desk. You spend the next five minutes thinking. Taemin turns on the chair to face you.

You tell him about your meeting with Ae Sook. About how you found out about the accident. You mention Jonghyun and Kibum and Taemin seems very pleased after hearing that they live together. You tell him about your first impression of Jongin and Ae Sook, about how close they look.

Then you tell him about Ae Sook’s words, about how she thinks Taemin hates her, how much she regrets it all, and Taemin’s face is blank.

Then he turns away and you only see his tense back, his shoulders shivering violently, and his hand combing through his hair restlessly. So you exit the room.

*

You’re in the middle of reading a book when he comes to you with three pages of text. He waves them around a little, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“Done?” you ask with a quiet sigh, even though you know he is.

“You got any envelopes?”

You have to go to your mom’s bedroom to give him a blue envelope. You don’t seal it or write on it, you also don’t peek at Taemin’s notes when you fold them and put them inside. Taemin’s eyes are fixed on your fingers the whole time, as if he’s scared that the envelope with undergo self-destruction or something.

Your heart aches. Aches, aches, aches; never stops.

“Why did you kiss me?”

His words are like a bucket of cold water thrown at your head. You freeze in your spot, your finger still on the envelope, your other hand squeezing it a little bit too hard. You gasp when you notice what you’re doing.

“It’s okay, it’s supposed to be twenty-two years old,” the boy mutters. “Eun Ri—“

“You know why,” you choke out. He’s silent for a long moment. “You know why,” you repeat.

“No,” he says gently. “I don’t. What you feel towards me is not—“

“Don’t tell me what I feel,” you interrupt him, looking at him sharply. “Don’t be that kind of guy.”

So he shuts his mouth. You exchange long, lingering stares, your whole body going numb.

He’s leaving. He’s leaving soon.

“When are we doing this?” you find yourself asking, with the last strain of power you have left.

“Tomorrow,” Taemin replies. “You should get some rest now.”

“What if you disappear tomorrow?”

Taemin stares at you with those piercing, black eyes, and suddenly his hand is on your cheek. You jerk back with surprise, but then you notice how his skin gets a little bit whiter on his hand. You frown.

“I don’t know why, but your touch seems to keep me here as well.”

*

You wake up in the middle of the night because of Taemin’s quiet whimpers and muffled sobs.

You find him downstairs, leaning against the wall, his legs curled, his arms embracing his own knees, his head tucked there.

He’s a complete mess. And the sight of him makes your knees go weak. You immediately want to cry too. Wallow in your sadness and loneliness.

But no. This time it’s not about you. This time you can’t be selfish.

You sit down beside him. When you do, he lets out a painful moan he’s been trying to keep inside, afraid it’s going to wake you up. Now it didn’t matter.

That one moan is like the first word in a whole book. It starts a cacophony of noises, whimpers, cries, whines, gasps. His whole body is shaking violently; his whole face is wet from tears. You wonder about where they’re coming from. Taemin is a soul, so why are there any tears?

Your first touch is unsure. You put your hand on his shoulder, and he leans into it right away, coldness shooting up from your palm and spreading all over your body.

You embrace him then and Taemin puts his head on your collarbone, lets out a gasp that sends shivers down your skin. He’s freezing cold. You feel it in your bones. It’s like jumping into a pile of snow completely .

And in the same time, it gives you comfort. Taemin holds onto you like he’s holding onto his dear life, and that’s partially true too. You’re finally able to touch, to feel. You wish that he was warm, but his coldness is very him.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. There are butterflies in your stomach, but it’s weird, because at the same time your mind and soul are screaming for help, reminding you that he’ll be gone soon, that he doesn’t love you, that you can’t be with him, that you need to let him go.

You can’t do that just yet, though.

*

You clench your fingers around the ring on your neck. You glance at Taemin, who’s shaking all over, breathing heavy and fast and tapping his feet on the ground.

“I think I’m gonna puke,” he says as you swallow hard, looking at Ae Sook’s house.

“We need to go in at some point,” you say. “Tae, it’s been two hours. You won’t be more ready than now.”

“Wait, just—not yet.”

You wait patiently by the little fence across the street, shadows of cherry blossoms protecting you from the sun. Taemin’s body looks beautiful in the afternoon light.

Your eyes get droopy at some point. You try to kill some time playing Flappy Bird and Temple Run, but it’s not enough to keep your own nervousness at bay. Taemin’s huffs and silent whimpers that he lets out from time to time make you scared and incredibly anxious.

“Taemin—“ you start. Bu then a movement draws your attention and you see the door from Ae Sook’s house opening.

Taemin sways back and ends up -first on the pavement. You look at him, eyes wide, then back at the door.

Jongin closes them and quickly jumps off the three little steps, fixing the strap of his backpack. He has to fumble around with the gate a little and stops you a few seconds later.

He does a double-take, frowns, opens the gate, closes it, looks at you again and just hovers there, unsure what to do. Then he decides to wave.

You wave back, feeling awkward. He must think you’re a real freak. First you came to his house at midnight, then you couldn’t say a word to him, when he finally met you you were staring at him, and now you’re lingering in front of his house.

“I’m waiting for a friend!” you shout at him.

“Is that him?” Taemin asks. “Is that—“

Jongin looks around before crossing the street and approaching you with a soft smile.

“And you just decided to pick this spot to wait for her,” he states. “Interesting.”

“I swear I’m not a stalker.”

Jongin raises his brows, shakes his head and mutters, “Whatever you say.”

You want to argue, but he bows shortly at you before you can.

“I gotta go catch my bus. If you want to talk to mom then go ahead, she’s free at the moment. Just drop the creepy behavior and you’ll be super.”

You laugh nervously at him and Jongin chuckles at that before heading in the opposite direction.

You look behind you to see Taemin gaping, his face completely blank.

“Tae?” you say. You place a hand on his shoulder, once again feeling like touching ice. “Don’t freak me out.”

“That was my son,” Taemin whispers.

“Yeah,” you say quietly.

“He’s so—“

“Hot?” you supply. Taemin shots you a glare.

“I wanted to say kind,” he barks. “And cheerful.”

“And playful, like you.”

“I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“I’m not surprised.”

He suddenly takes your hand. You let your fingers intertwine and a deep sigh leaves your chest.

“Ready?” you ask him.

“Never,” he answers as he begins to walk towards the house.

Your memories get hazy then. Blurry. As you almost approach that little gateway, Taemin squeezes your hand.

“Eun Ri?” he says. You look at him, at his deep eyes piercing through you, looking into your soul. Your whole being hurts, because you know it’s probably a goodbye. Then Taemin leans forward to plant a soft kiss on your cheek, then on your forehead, and pulls you a little closer. You close your eyes the moment his lips touch your skin and that gentle gesture triggers you like never before. Your heart is fluttering hard in your chest, a tear rolls down your cheek, you feel your chin quivering.

“I love you,” Taemin murmurs.

You know that it’s not the kind of love you feel towards him. That it’s not the kind of love he feels towards Ae Sook. You know that you’re like a sister to him.

You know that he’s going to disappear.

“I love you,” you repeat after him.

He doesn’t say another word after that. You drag your feet, push the button, and soon Ae Sook shows up on the doorstep and comes to open the gate for you.

Taemin’s face is blank. He can only stare at her, endless affection showing in his orbs, affection and love you always wanted for yourself, and your heart stutters in your chest, heavy. You hear that white noise in your ears.

You enter the house on auto-pilot. You say something to Ae Sook, but you don’t even know what, your mind supplying words on itself. You bow at her while giving her the envelope and she frowns deeply. Somehow, you’re able to pick out all the little detail of her skin and expression, but you can’t see the whole picture. She tells you to sit down on the couch, but you decide not to, and she’s too busy practically tearing the envelope to notice.

Taemin passes you like cold, winter breeze. You feel the scent of flowers suddenly, and when you glance at him, his skin is shining.

He crouches down in front of Ae Sook. You see their profiles – Ae Sook’s left, Taemin’s right. The woman throws the envelope aside, unfolds Taemin’s notes and begins to scan the page crazily, her fingers tight around it, her lips twitching, her wrists shaking so hard she has to put the papers on her knees at some point because she’s unable to read.

She covers with her hands and you can only see her eyebrows creasing in endless relief, pain and sorrow, and she lets out a huge, loud sob.

She tries to rub the tears off her cheeks, making them completely red. She grabs the papers again, goes through them one more time. Taemin’s eyes are fixed on her face, never once leave it, as his skin becomes more and more white, dazzling, to the point he becomes blinding. You have to squint your eyes to see his face, his huge smile, his teary eyes as Ae Sook finished reading for the third time.

“Taemin-ah,” she whispers, hugging the notes close to her chest and closing her eyes, rocking back and forth on the couch. “Taemin-ah, God, I love you so much.”

A wave hits you. A freezing, huge, strong wave. Ice prickles your skin. You stagger back, enveloped in the scent of flowers. Light blinds you for a second.

But then you see Taemin’s face – smiling, beautiful as ever, full of color.

It’s the last time you see that face.

The epilogue will be up tomorrow.

I realized I was such a very ty author at the beginning of this story, I didn't update frequently, I didn't reply to comments (although honestly, I spazzed over each one of them) and my English was *sighs*. I'll try better in the future. Idk, I was weird.

I changed the title as you can see. Confusing? Hope not.

I also updated the foreword with a soundtrack. You can listen to each song by clicking the links there. I'll create an album on 8tracks as soon as it starts working again lol bc now only errors appear D: