“Seunghyun... hyung...”

I fought to hold on to the remnants of that sleepy feeling, but that voice just wouldn't leave me alone. I didn't want it to either. It was the most beautiful voice in all of the world. I loved that voice. I could listen to it for hours on end. “Ya! Babo-ya! I was sleeping!” I pretended to be all irritated and pissed off, but I felt none of those things. I was glad to see him. I was always so happy to see him, no matter how, when or where, or under which circumstances. There wasn't a second or a fraction of a second when his presence was unwanted. I couldn't get enough of it. Of him.

I pretended that I was falling asleep again, barely able to contain my smirk. I knew he wouldn't leave me alone, that he would start more drastic measures and I prayed he would. He did not disappoint, jumping up on the bed and jumping up and down on it, screeching happily. The bed bounced me up and down, it was getting harder to fake that I was still asleep. But I wanted it to last a few more moments, so I held on, keeping my eyes closed.

Suddenly he slid on the bedding and fell down right on top of me. He hit me so hard I coughed at impact, my chest a bit sore, but I didn't care. I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was his face before mine, frozen in terror, too scared to even say I'm sorry. Was I that intimidating? How could he be so scared of me? I stared into his eyes for a moment, he didn't move a muscle. Then I smiled and attacked him, flipping him under me and tickling him nearly to death. He laughed and laughed, he laughed so hard he couldn't breathe. I laughed too, laughed till tears came out. If I hadn't been so busy tickling him, I would've recognized the feeling of happiness taking over my body. But my attention was elsewhere, it was focused on him. Wonderful him.

“Hey you little idiots, come down for breakfast!”

“Lis.. ten... to ...to your... m...mom..” he managed to utter between laughing fits. I gave him a break and let him think he was free. “Ahh...finally... I'm going to get super-abs after all that laughing!” he giggled. He was about to stand up when I dragged him back into bed, tickling him even harder. “No!” he yelled laughing. His laugh had such a beautiful ring to it, it was so contagious that it left no one in a mile radius unaffected.

“Guys, do I have to come up there?!”

“, we'd better go.” I chuckled, “..before she comes and bites our heads off.”. We rushed downstairs, competing who would be the first one down, running down the stairs even though we knew my mom would yell at us for it. 'You are not a couple of toddlers!' she would say, she was only concerned for our safety. And she was right, we were idiots to run down the stairs. It was dangerous, but that was part of what made it so fun.

I was in the lead, I had almost reached the bottommost step. Whoever touched the floor first won, those were the unwritten rules. I was going to win, I could feel it. The anticipation fired up my veins, making my heart beat faster. If I won I could pester him about it all day, teasing him. It was an excuse to get to be in his hair as much as I possibly could. I couldn't get enough of him. I was like a drug addict, my only concern was getting my fix. I needed my fix, I needed it badly. He didn't have a clue about any of it though, he just thought we were good friends. Best friends.

I wanted to tell him, but I didn't dare ruin what we had. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if he started looking at me differently? What if I couldn't tickle him anymore? I wasn't prepared to risk any of it. I was happy with how it was now, getting to be near him was enough for me. Filling my days with his laughter, his jokes, his smile. His jokes weren't always good mind you, about half of them failed. But I loved that even more, for then his face turned so incredibly awkward. His cute nose getting crinkles, his eyes half-apologetic, half-embarrassed. Then a moment later he would regroup and fearlessly make another joke. I admired him for that. He looked like the fragile one, but in reality he was as tough as they got. I was the fragile one. I cared what other people thought, I couldn't just shake my embarrassment off my shoulders. But being in his presence, it gave me courage. Courage to be me. He made me a better person, a better version of myself and I loved him for it. I wished I could do the same for him, but he didn't need me to.

He was careful not to show anyone his true self though, he was shy like that. But he showed it to me and that made me feel like the most privileged person on the planet. Why he chose me I would never understand, but I was grateful he did. It was a shame that the rest of the world only got to see the edited version of him, but I would be lying if I said I lamented it. I liked being the only one. I loved every second of it. I would probably get really jealous if he ever shared himself with anyone else, but that was a bridge I would have to cross when the time came. I was not going to worry too much about it at present.

Before I reached the last step, there was a loud bang and the whole house shook. I stopped in my tracks and reached out for the railing. Holding it I turned around to see if he was alright. He'd been right behind me so I was going to try and catch him as he passed by me. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. There was a gaping hole where the top of the stairs had been, I was looking into the giant eye of a tornado, eating the stairs one step at a time. My heart leapt. He was hanging on by a thread, one hand on the railing and the rest of his body in mid air, being out by that monster of a tornado. The blood stopped in my veins, I froze. I knew I should be doing everything I could to save him. I should be reaching out for his hand, pulling him back in. But my body refused to listen to my commands, it was as if someone had pressed the 'off' button and now I was a brain without a body, stuck inside a useless heap of flesh.

The noise of the tornado breaking the house apart cut into my heart, causing me physical pain. He was looking at me, looking me straight in the eyes. Silently pleading for me to save him. But I couldn't move. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't even do that. I just stood there, frozen in time. I stood still but everything around me was moving, breaking away. I wanted to hit pause, to take a moment. But there was no pausing life. His fingers were turning white, barely holding on. The suction of the tornado was too strong. He wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. I had to get it together. He needed me. A sofa flew past us, being out all the way from the living room. His pinky finger lost its grip, he was down to only three fingers. Those three fingers were all that was standing between life and death.

I finally snapped out of it. Gasping, I lunged forward, but it was too late. The fingers had already let go. I watched him flying away from me, terror in his eyes. It didn't look real, it couldn't be real.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, waking myself up in the process. I sat up in my bed, my face was wet with tears. My stomach was bundled up in a painful knot, still traumatized by the dream. My heart was racing, pearls of cold sweat sprouting on my forehead. The tears kept coming. Not because of the dream, but because of reality. He was dead, Daesung was dead and there was nothing I could do to bring him back. The dream had been so vivid that I could still feel him. I could feel him on top of me after his fall, I could still feel his muscles under his shirt as I tickled him. My fingertips still had his essence on them. It felt like he had been alive just a moment ago, and now I had to lose him all over again. Fifteen years later and I was still losing him, over and over again. For the first two years it had been every night, but then the dreams had become less frequent. For years it was once or twice a week, now it was down to a couple of times a month. No matter the times, it always hurt as much. Like I was losing him for the first time and the millionth time, and every time there in between.

It was something I couldn't get used to. The pain was too much, too intense. I finally gave up on holding the tears back, my sobs turning into a wail. I curled up under the blankets, crying like a baby. I felt so alone, like I was alone in the entire universe. He had left me. He had left me all by myself with nothing to hold on to. I often got mad at him, even though I knew it wasn't his fault. But sometimes being mad was better than the alternative, soul crushing sorrow.

My alarm went off. Time to start the day. Time waited for no man. No matter what happened, time always continued on its way. It was the only constant in the world. Whether good or bad, time passed and kept on passing. Sometimes it was the only thing I had to hold on to, and sometimes it was my sworn enemy. But it didn't care, it just kept on going. Tick. Tock.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and got out of bed. Not because I wanted to, but because it was what I was supposed to do. It was a new day, whether I liked it or not.