He slammed the shot glass noisily against the bar, not that anyone even noticed. It was his fourth shot of rum, but similar to the rest of the drink he has had that night, it was ineffective. "What do I want it to do, anyway?" Kai asked out loud, and he laughed by himself. He buried his face in his hands afterwards. Even in a room full of people, he felt alone.

Surprisingly, no one approached him since he fought his way into the crowded bar – not like anyone would be interested in dancing with a man in his mourning clothes. No, that would be too disrespectful. But Kai would have talked to anyone who came to him because apparently, misery does love company.

But Kai was the one who left his only company. And she had asked him to stay – or maybe begged was the better word, because she got down on her knees and clung to his jeans as she sobbed. Did he listen? The answer was there with him, while he tossed a couple of bills towards the bartender and staggered his way out of the bar.

He froze just a few steps from the door before rushing back to his previous spot by the bar. There, on the seat next to his, was her framed picture. It was the third day, but his mourning was far from over. Turning and leaving the place completely, he walked to the sidewalk and watched the stoplight turn from green to red.

The man was standing in front of the crossing, but he didn't know which way to go. He leaned against a lamp post and clutched the frame closer to him, knowing how it was the closest he could ever get to the real Jinsung. Drivers honked their horns at him, half-expecting him to cross the road already. Kai was stuck in the in-between, his world split down the middle.

Kai wandered aimlessly, ending up on streets unfamiliar to him and turning to sidewalks he stepped on for the first time. Where was he? He also didn't know. I take it back, he thought. My world isn't split down the middle. My world is buried six feet under the ground together with dirt and soil and bones and all things unwanted. Maybe she had felt unwanted, too.

And he wandered some more, as if each step would lead him closer to where she was. He knew the way back to his own home. He knew the way back to where she used to live. He knew the way to the alley where he left her kneeling and begging on the ground. He knew the way to the crossing where she left – permanently. But he didn't know the way back to Jinsung.

His eyes threatening to close, he decided to call it a night. The man waited for a cab to pass by and hailed it. He entered the back seat, giving his address to the driver in between hiccups – or was it sniffles? He watched the view outside the window – whether the vehicle was going too fast or his eyes were just getting blurred with tears, he didn't know for sure.

When the cab came to a halt in front of his apartment, he half handed, half hurled the cash towards the driver. And then he left, slamming the door behind him. He told himself long ago that he would die without her. And now she was gone, but he wasn't dead. He wasn't alive either. Opening the door to his home, Kai didn't bother turning the lights on.

In the darkness, he stumbled, feeling for the couch and dragging himself to collapse on the cushion. Even if he had regretted everything, it was already too late. He smacked himself on the forehead, wondering what had gotten into him that day he decided to break up with her. Like the thrill of uncertainty, it was only exciting at first, but then the consequences killed him in the end.

He settled more comfortably on the couch, where traces of her are no longer there. The only place she exists right at that moment was his mind, but his memories don't do her justice. Kai – no, he wasn't Kai. To her, he was Jongin. Kim Jongin if she was angry. His name was who he was and it only felt good to be Jongin if Jinsung would say his name.

"When classes resumed, she was the first person I looked for. But then her hair was shorter. She grew taller. And puberty just happened and I realized I didn't like her anymore. I mean, it was just, you know, some kind of immature love. Infatuation might be a better word to describe it," he said, combing through her hair with his fingers as she lay on top of him.

Jinsung laughed, and Jongin laughed too. "Yeah, I know. I was just on fifth grade at that time," he added.

At his statement, the woman creased her forehead in confusion. "I wasn't laughing at what you said." And seeing his defeated expression, she laughed. "Why would you blurt out something like that, anyway? We're watching Pororo for heaven's sake. And I'm not asking you anything about your ex-girlfriend or whatever."

Jongin shifted in his position as his feet felt numb. "What? I'm just trying to start something like that because, you know, maybe you'll say something like, 'Oh, Jongin! You're my first and last. Will you marry me?' Or something like that," he explained, now regretting speaking his mind. The words made more sense in his head than when he says them.

She laughed all the more. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Tell me something about your last boyfriend."

Turning serious all of a sudden, "You really want to go there?" Jinsung pressed, to which Jongin responded by nodding and turning the television off so he could listen more attentively. "Fine." The woman pressed her head against his chest. "Let's see. Back in high school, there was Wooyoung."

"So, what's the back story? Is he the soccer player slash smarty pants slash prom king kind of guy?" Jongin pressed curiously.

Jinsung chuckled softly, shaking her head no. "He was nice. He was the hearts and flowers kind of guy, you know, like in movies." She closed her eyes and smiled at the memory. "Maybe that was still naive of me, but I told him 'You know what? I would die for you'."

"No, you didn't."

"I did," Jinsung defended. "I did tell him that and I meant it."

"And then?"

"I don't know. When summer came, perhaps he thought if he ignored me and I ignored him back, that was already considered breaking up. And then that was that," Jinsung concluded, sitting up and yanking Jongin to sit beside her. "Since then, I wanted to be careful. I've shared everything with everyone and you know that. If beggars ask for spare change, I give them bills. If someone in college asks for a piece of paper, I'd give him two sheets. But with the I-would-die-for-you's, I would be selfish with them."

The man nodded, clearly understanding. He probed her cheek with his thumb and rested his head on her shoulder as if saying he would wait for the time she would gladly share with him an I-would-die-for-you. And when that day comes, he would tell her the same.

"I never told anyone that before," she confessed.

As he listened, he realized she had showed him a part of her world that only a chosen few had seen. She had given him a part of herself that she knows he could bend and break and destroy with the snap of a finger. He was welcomed into her world and he wondered if anyone else had made it that far.

Kissing her forehead, "Well, maybe I'm not just anyone," Jongin muttered faintly.

Being on the same couch didn't feel the same. In the darkness, he fumbled for his phone and checked the time. It was 10:39 in the evening of the fifteenth of August, almost exactly four days since he last saw her. The fact that he broke up with her just hours before she died hasn't been much help. He didn't care if she died and he misses her or she died and it was because of him – it doesn't change the fact that Jinsung died.

[A/N] I know I marked this story as oneshot but then I had too much feels for Kai and so I decided to make it longer lol ^^ sorry for the short chapter. I'd update soon ☺