Dying isn’t painless. Even if it may be quick, it certainly isn’t painless. I remember the day I died as clearly as if it was yesterday. It happened quickly. Mercifully, they said. I was just crossing the street when I was hit by a car, and my neck broke. I remember the screeching of the wheels and the smell of burnt rubber. I remember how the people around me screamed when they realized what was about to happen. I remember seeing the car out of the corner of my eye – black, with toned windows – and thinking, I’ll die now. When it hit me, there was a sharp pain for a brief moment before everything turned dark. But to say that realizing I would die was my last thought would be a lie. I had just enough time to think of another thing right after that, but I’ll get to that later.

After a few moments of darkness, the light finally came back. At first everything I saw was just white, but eventually the picture cleared – and there I was. I was lying a few meters from the car that had hit me, and my head was bent at an unnatural angle. People were gathered around me, among them the panicked driver. He was tall and it was obvious that he was handsome. Anyone could see that despite the tears running in rivers down his cheeks. I didn’t think of how he must feel then, I was much too preoccupied taking in the fact that I could see myself lying dead on the ground.

I couldn’t look away, but I didn’t want to watch. Eventually I managed to tear my gaze away by instead concentrating on what people were saying. Someone was one the phone, calling for an ambulance, and someone was trying to calm the driver. That was when I took the time to look a bit closer at him. He couldn’t be much older than myself at the time, somewhere around twenty, and he was in hysterics. It was difficult to hear what he was saying, partially due to the state he was in, and partially because he had a rather noticeable accent and kept shifting between Korean and another language, but I eventually got that he was going on about how he’d killed someone. Realizing how awful and guilty he must feel, I felt sorry for him. It wasn’t his fault. It was an accident. I was in a hurry, he was in a hurry, neither of us were as careful as we should’ve been. I wanted to say that to him, to somehow make him feel better, and knowing that I couldn’t hurt more than the sudden and sharp pain earlier, but different.

Then I heard a voice that made me feel cold all over. It was a weird feeling, since I didn’t have a body anymore, but I didn’t dwell on it too long. I slowly turned towards the source of the sound and felt the most painful feeling yet hit me full force. Chanyeol was running towards the scene, a worried look etched on his face. I realized that he didn’t know that it was me yet – and feared the moment when he would realize whose body was lying on the ground, lifeless. That moment took forever to come, at the same time as it came far too soon. He skillfully made his way to the middle of the group of people, and his face immediately paled. He stared at my body in disbelief for a few moments before his legs gave in and he sank to the ground. His hands reached out for me, grabbing my own hands, caressing my face and brushing my hair away from my face. My skin must be cold by now, I thought sadly. All the warmth had already seeped out of the body – my body – and I could practically see it seeping out of Chanyeol’s heart, too. He’d always said I was his light, his warmth. Now I was gone. At least to him.

“Do you know this boy?” a man next to Chanyeol asked, but Chanyeol didn’t answer. His eyes were filling up with tears, and he didn’t even seem to notice as they slipped down his cheek. The man put a hand on his shoulder and Chanyeol jumped, finally looking up from my lifeless body. At least my eyes were closed. The man repeated his question and Chanyeol blinked a few times, bringing himself together piece by painful piece.

“Yes,” he whispered then. “Yes, he’s my-“ His voice cut off as if he’d choked on the words and he took a deep, shuddering breath before trying again. “He’s my boyfriend. My Baekhyun…” I was so thankful when the expression on the man’s face showed sympathy rather than disgust.

The ambulance arrived a few seconds later and I had to watch as Chanyeol understood that I was completely, infinitely dead when the paramedics didn’t let him come with and drove away without any lights or sound. The look on his face hurt me in ways I can’t even describe, and before I knew it I was standing right next to him, attempting to hug him.

“Please tell me you can feel me,” I whispered in his ear, and got a shiver and goose bumps in response. It was obvious that if I actually wanted to touch him, I’d have to practice at this, but the slight reaction I got was better than nothing.

The last thing I thought of before I died was that I didn’t get to tell Chanyeol I love you today.