When Jongin opened his eyes, the bright sunlight penetrating his window drapes and the chirping birds greeted him.

Other than those sounds, the house was completely silent. On other days, Jongin would enjoy the serenity and calmness it offered. Living in the suburb has always been his dream, where he could be free from the car honks and busy city. His neighbors were the nicest people he could ever meet, unlike those with cold stares at his old apartment in the center of Seoul.

Sighing, he woke up while ruffling his hair and threw the covers off to proceed to the kitchen and drank a glass of water. The house felt so empty these days. Jongin designed the interior by himself and requested for it to be painted by simple monochrome colors, just like how he’d always like it—but now the plain, elegant white walls made him felt so lonely.

He lazily poured some cereal into a pristine white porcelain bowl, and then continued to pour some milk while eyeing the calendar hung near the fridge. It’s Sunday. He had fallen asleep with his laptop still on last night while he tried to finish his work, but since it’s Sunday, he thought a little rest wouldn’t hurt.

Since Sehun’s gone, Jongin’s life has been nothing but empty.

++

The water in his bathroom felt unusually cold today. Or was it just his cold heart? He’d never been able to live his life fully anymore. They loved each other so much; too much it hurt not to see each other for just a day. The day Jongin met Sehun for the first time was the day Jongin would never forgot—it was a bright, sunny day seven years ago, when Jongin was sitting in his first Economics class for the semester and the tall, milky-skinned boy entered the class.

They realized they’re both in love with each other one year later, and that’s when Jongin realized that Sehun was the one, and he vowed that he’d spend the rest of his life with him; he’d be his only one, his first and his last.

Once graduated, despite being one of the excellent students in college, he ditched all the education he got for four years and worked as a freelance photographer. Photography has always been his passion. He had wanted to study photography once he finished high school, but being old school parents like his, they refused it and forced him to study something that has a promising future—such as business. Jongin ended up enrolling into the business major and finished the four-year-course with a summa laude, only to fulfill his parents’ wish. His parents wouldn’t be able to bother him anymore for he had obeyed them—now it’s his turn to do something that would make him happy.

Two years later, Jongin had never imagined he had earned enough money and bought a simple, beautiful house in the suburban Seoul; only to ask Sehun to live together with him. Sehun ditched his job as a teacher in a dancing studio in Hongdae and moved in three months later.

They were happy.

++

Jongin proceeded to sit at one of the windows in the living room; one that was facing Sehun’s favorite corner in the house. It’s the left corner on the living room, where the sunlight would penetrate freely every day—for Sehun loved it to be bathed in sunlight. He set up a white table and a white chair, where he would sit all day to read his favorite books while sipping a cup of tea after Jongin went to work. Jongin loved to watch him from the window he’s currently sitting at, right across the corner. Sehun had this calm, composed expression whenever he’s reading; and Jongin thought Sehun looked hundred times more beautiful with his pale skin shimmering in the sunlight.

But this time, Jongin was alone, with an opened, dusty and untouched book on the white table.

++

“Sehun!”

Sehun turned to his right, and Jongin pressed the shutter button on his camera. The dazed look on Sehun’s face has always been Jongin’s favorite.

“Jongin-ah, let’s take a picture together,”

Jongin set a tripod in the living room that day, and they took bunches of pictures with Sehun’s favorite corner as the background; including a photo of them sharing a passionate kiss.

Jongin never knew it was the last time Sehun would kiss him so passionately.

++

It’s a bright Friday afternoon in the summer and the weather had started to get hotter; but Jongin could only feel cold.

His ears seemed to have closed up on him; he could only hear muffled sounds and his own ragged breaths as he followed the young lady leading his steps through the hallway. The hallway was silent, cold and unwelcoming—and for the first time in the past year, Jongin felt so empty.

“Please, Kim Jongin-ssi,”

The lady stepped aside to give him way into a room. The room was plain, pristine white—and Jongin knew he’d hate the color white from now on.

He stepped carefully into the room as he chanted please please please in his heart; but he could feel his throat slowly clogging up and his eyes has started to sting.

No, no, no!

His legs moved on their own and brought him to the metal table in the center of the room. His Sehun, his Oh Sehun—no, it can’t be.

“Sehun-ah, wake up,” he writhed, his hands taking the latter’s cold ones. “Come on Sehun-ah, wake up, let’s go home… Please, please, baby…”

Jongin was in a middle of a meeting with his clients when the call came—he stormed through the glass door of the room; ignoring the confused expression of his clients and the yell of his assistant. He didn’t remember driving; and ten minutes later he was being led here.

Sehun’s face was left unscathed, and he had the usual calm and composed expression just like when he’s reading. He looked so peaceful; it’s as if he’s only sleeping for a while and would wake up soon.

“Sehun-ah, wake up! Why aren’t you waking up?”

“Sir, let’s go back outside, we need—“

“No! Let go of me! Come on, baby, let’s go home and help me print the photos we took last week. Wake up, Sehun-ah, wake up—“

“Sir, I’m sorry—“

“Shut up! He’s not dead, he’s not dead! He’s just sleeping, look—“

“I’m sorry, Kim Jongin-ssi.”

Jongin didn’t remember what happened next.

++

“It’s been a year, Sehun-ah,” Jongin whispered, “And I still miss you.”

Jongin didn’t touch Sehun’s corner at all since he went home for the first time after the funeral, wishing he could savor every last memory with Sehun by doing that. A Mitch Albom’s For One More Day was left opened on the white table, and Jongin wished, wished and wished he would have just one more day to tell him how much he loved him. He fell asleep on the floor near Sehun’s favorite corner that night instead, with a plastic bag of bloodied mess that was supposed to be Sehun’s clothes, wallet and cell phone.

Jongin had never gone by a day without missing him. He’s gone too suddenly, and it’s beyond hard for Jongin to accept that he’s not there anymore—no little pecks on his lips every morning, no loving hugs whenever he came home, no warm cups of coffee for breakfast—no Oh Sehun.

“Sehun-ah, you have to know I’ve always loved you,” Jongin didn’t realize tears had come streaming down his cheeks, “Always, and I’ll never stop.”

He smiled, “But you don’t want me to be unhappy, right?”

“Your mother said you won’t be able to be happy and at peace up there if I continue to mourn over you. Is that right, Sehun-ah?”

“I’ve printed the last photos I took with you,” Jongin’s hands fumbles with the photos, “and they came out beautiful. You are beautiful,”

“Your parents said I should move on,”

“Should I?”

Jongin looked out of the window. The weather was really nice; with bright sunlight and cool breeze—the bushes and flowers on their backyard swayed back and forth, blown by the wind.

“Guess I should also start tidying the garden,” he smiled while more tears fell, “it started to look like a jungle.”

Jongin wiped his tears on his t-shirt—he had shed more tears this past year than he had ever in his entire life—and proceeded to go down the window. He rummaged through the shelf to find an unused picture frame, then went to the kitchen to get a rag and for the first time, he stepped into Sehun’s favorite corner, wiped the dust off the book and table, and put the framed picture of Sehun and him kissing passionately.

He put the book back on the table, and whispered, “If I am granted a chance to spend one more day with you, Sehun-ah,” he paused as he searched his pocket and pulled out a simple, white gold ring, “I would go straight kneeling and convey my delayed proposal, even if it’s not going to keep you here.”

“Until we meet again… Oh Sehun.”

++