It hasn't changed.

The air that she breathes, the asphalt pathway she steps on, the glass of cold frappucino she drinks.

She finishes her fourth cup and looks outside. It’s sunny – too good to be true.

The waiter on the counter keeps on glancing her way every time he has the time – which is most of the time she’s inside the coffee shop.

It’s pretty small for a café, and quite casted away in this busy city. People won’t look its way, not if they don’t pay attention to this one café with its blurred sign, still hanging on the wall since forever.

Yet, that makes it her favorite place.

It’s peaceful, with no one besides her – that waiter doesn't included – and that one old grandpa on the other side of the café.

“Come again soon, Krystal-ssi!” The waiter half yells and gains the old man’s attention, before the grandpa sighs and focuses back on his newspaper.

She smiles and he can swear he’s just a step from the heaven. “I will, Jonginnie.”

The door’s closed and he puts a hand on his thumping chest.

“She remembers my name.” The waiter gapes and it doesn't take more than a minute for him to dance around the empty coffee shop, yelling in happiness loudly.

He clearly ignores the snort from the old man because, ugh, of course she does.

Stupid young man, he says inwardly and puts his newspaper to the table.

He takes his cup of black coffee as he looks outside. The so-called Krystal-ssi is now standing on the pathway. As long as his not-that-good-anymore brain, he can remember that today, she’s wearing the same exact patterned sweater, with her jeans and a worn pair of washed pink Converse.

She’s now looking to her left and right side, checking if the road is safe enough for her to cross, back to her home after her class at nearby university.

Few seconds and she’s already on the other side of the street, ready to head back home.

“No.” She talks to herself lowly, inhaling the supposed to be fresh air but her lungs feel tighten against her ribcage. She tries to smile again. She succeeds.

The light steps she has been taking are now heavier. “Not now.” She shakes her head several times until she looks up and a tear escapes from the corner of her pretty eyes.

“I—can’t.” She says to the clouded sun and a gust of wind passes her.

It’s barely two meters from the crossroad when she bends down on her knees. More tears escape, making the pathway goes wet with her tears. She can perfectly hear the commotion from behind her – honking cars, a high-pitched scream, pained cries, and an ambulance siren.

“No.” She shakes her head. “Please.”

She begs and begs to no one. Soon, the sky is crying with her – no more shining sun and hot weather. A pair of weak hands grabs her up and drags her back to the café.

The time they cross the exact crossroad, she faintly sees the blood from a figure, lying helplessly against the wet asphalt besides a car.

She can also see herself, desperately wailing while carefully putting his bleeding head on her lap.

“No. Junmyeon, don’t—“ she chokes and gapes at the amount of blood on her hand after placing his head carefully on her lap. “Junmyeon!”

The said man barely opens his eyes, as if he’s actually dying.

He is, but she refuses to believe it.

Junmyeon is dying on her lap. A car just hit him because he was walking backwards while calling her to cross together with him, unaware that a car was speeding off from his left.

The rain is pouring hard – the same exact situation like a Friday one year ago.

She clutches the t-shirt he’s wearing – damp with both dripping blood and the light rain.

He opens his eyes the last time only to smile at her.

“Don’t—“ he reaches to wipe her cheeks, “cry, Soojung. I’m fine.”

“No you’re not! You’re bleed—“ she widens her eyes when his hand falls to his side, no longer wiping her stained cheeks. “Junmyeon!”

Whimpering, she brings his body closer to her and shakes him violently, but his breathing has stopped.

She yells and yells, but Junmyeon is not opening his pretty eyes. She calls his name many times, but he’s being dragged away with some nurses and being put inside an ambulance. She runs and struggles with the nurse so that she can get in the ambulance, but there’s nothing she can do besides dress up prettily in black at his funeral the next day.

Never once she stops calling his name and up until today, she got no answer but a throbbing feeling inside her chest every time the letters of his name dance on her tongue.

Junmyeon has left a year ago, but she still refuses to believe.

Soojung is still not letting go; she’s still rooted on the corner of the pathway where she saw him getting hit.

She may looked strong and all from the outside, but only few people can see how broken she is inside.

She’s still the same Soojung from a year ago, besides the light laugh, the cheerful smile, and a loving heart. Now all of those are gone, gone with the man she loves for her life.

“Junmyeon.” She writhes on the grandpa’s coat, soaking it wet. “Junmyeon is gone, grandpa.”

“I know, dear.” He shushes her. “But my grandchild is still watching us from above – watching you, especially.”

She looks up and his gentle face that really resembles Junmyeon's calms her heart.

“He doesn't leave. Don’t you ever think that he has left,” he smiles.

She looks outside again at the empty road.

If you haven’t left, then why aren’t you here to wipe my tears? Why am I feeling lonely? Why I can’t feel your presence?

Why is that, Junmyeon?

a/n: im so sorry for this!!!! this...... is far from what i expected it would be :( anw, first drabble and first story ever since i entered university! haha