Winter.

 

The beginning tufts of snowflakes have begun to drift to the ground, carpeting the ground with layers and layers of its magnificent pristine white glory. The air was crisp and cold, freezing gale huffed in draughts, cutting through every corner of the street. Window panes rattled in the night, bare trees trembled and swayed and bumped their feeble branches together.

 

Jongdae never liked winter since he was a kid. This year, he hated it more.

 

 

The funeral was today.

 

Jongdae sat near the front row during the church service, face forlorn and expressionless. Jongin sat beside him, fingers entwined with his hyung. On the other side of Jongdae was Luhan, his face solemn yet filled with emotions. 

 

Jongdae couldn't wait for the sermon to be over. It was overly long, overly descriptive, and it made him think of Yixing more than he wanted to.

 

Yixing, the love of his life.

 

He was gone.

 

Jongin looked over to his cousin, and his eyes were glazed over, his mouth slightly parted and his body tense. 

 

I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, hyung. But I couldn't bear to.

 

***

 

Life wasn't the same without Yixing. Day in, day out, Jongdae stayed at home, went to give his tuition lessons, then back home. Went to church, then back home. 

 

He never went back to the little wooden bench at the edge of the forest anymore. It used to be his sanctuary, the place where he felt the most relaxed, the happy carefree, the most happy. But now, it was the place that reminded him of the person he never ever wanted to leave, but left him.

 

He never blamed Yixing for anything. His sickness, his lies, his broken promises. They weren't his fault. 

 

Because of Yixing, Jongdae has learnt many valuable lessons of life. He taught him how to appreciate, how to cherish, how to love unconditionally with all his heart.

 

They say, you never really forget your first love.

 

Jongdae doesn't think he'll ever be ready to love again.

 

***

 

Jongdae never had a single attack since he came to the countryside. But when it struck him that night, it struck him harder than ever before.

 

The asthma hit him hard when he was in bed, and he lurched upwards, back arching, breaths coming out rapid and shallow as he clutched his chest and wheezed in pain.

 

"Jongin... J-j-jong..." 

 

Jongin awoke at the sound of his name, and dashed into his cousin's room.

 

"Hyung! Hyung oh my god hyung are you okay?" Jongin shrieked, running over and grabbing his hyung's shoulders fiercely.

 

Jongdae didn't respond, he just rolled his eyes backwards and moaned in distress.

 

Jongin was momentarily stunned, before he leapt onto the dresser and yanked it open, grabbing Jongdae's asthma kit, consisting of his inhaler and his asthma medication. He brought the inhaler close to Jongdae's face.

 

"Hyung, breathe!"

 

Jongdae pushed the inhaler away, to Jongin's alarm.

 

"Don't... I don't want to live anymore..."

 

"HYUNG!! Don't be ridiculous!!" Jongin tried to force his mouth open, but Jongdae simply wouldn't.

 

"Just... Just let me go."

 

Jongdae's eyelids fluttered, his chest movements slowing down, as he grabbed onto his younger cousin's hand weakly.

 

"Let me go, Jongin-ah. I miss him."

 

Jongin stilled, the inhaler trembling in his hands.

 

"Hyung... Don't..."

 

"Let me go."

 

 

Let hyung go.

 

Save hyung.