[A/N: wordcount:1500+. angsty. t/w: mentions of suicide.]

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Darkness looms over the exceptionally quiet room. Who knew tranquility could both muffle dreary thoughts and evoke perturbation? My shoulders wrap tautly around my knees, body trembling indignantly as the deafening silence encloses my delicate frame. The room must have morphed into some sort of black hole; it feels as if there is a lack of oxygen and my neck is being strangled with a noose. I wish I was really dangling from one. My eyes tear up; my hands are numb with the bitter cold. I gasp shallow breaths and scrambled nothing, my denial… but it evades me.

I scrutinise the gaps between my fingers, the empty space on my bed, the box of letters on my desk and a myriad of emotions washes over me like a tsunami destroying a city.

Then the flashbacks with Seulgi replay.

I remember you holding my hand for the first time. The way we were watching a movie with much concentration and you so discreetly reached over and slipped your fingers into mine. I couldn’t concentrate on the movie after that. The warmth of your smooth palm was far too distracting.

I remember strolling around town with you, and you would openly nudge my arm so I would take the hint to hold your hand first. A smile would plaster over my thin lips because I secretly desired to hold your hand too. In the end, you ended up holding mine, since you were ‘excited to see the pets at the nearby vets.’

I remember you sleeping over for the first time. We looked out at the star-less sky and talked. Talked about the compatibility of pineapple and pizza, talked about the highs and lows of our lives. It was from that point on, that I started to feel like we’re one because you seemed to understand everything I was going through and you would keep my hand warm- caressing the heel of my palm when I talked about the downs, assuring me that you would be there for me no matter what. My own hands crept over and wrapped around your petite waist. My heart palpitated and I guess I could no longer conceal the restless feelings.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms that night, remember? I cuddled you as you slept, concluding that my bolster would be deemed redundant if I had you in my arms every other night. I giggled at the sight of you sleeping soundly, a smile gracefully dancing on your tender lips. Actually, I had woken up much earlier than you thought that day yet, spending my time wisely by tangling my dainty fingers through your locks, listening to your rhythmic breathing as well as smelling the ever-so-sweet scent of your coconut shampoo. Your grin grew wider the succeeding morning as I woke you up with a “Good morning sunshine.” It made me happy to know that I made you happy too.

I remember going over to your place whenever I was free.  One fateful day, I decided to confront my emotions. I went up to you boldly, hugged you, your hands intrisically finding their way encircled around my neck. In order to seat my heart knocking into my ribs, I took three deep inhales before I finally muttered, “I love you.” I remembered you stifling a laugh because I so meekly confessed to you, but what I remembered most fondly that day was the way you returned, “I love you.". The way you made those three words sound-I could never forget. I could hear the truth behind it; you loved me back, you really did.

I remember spending almost every afternoon together wi