She was sweet, fragile, the kind of perfect with flaws that only made his heart yearn for more.
She had the heart of angel—forgiving even when the world had put her through so much, understanding even when she herself, needed more of it. And she had a heart of gold, that never failed to love.
“It’s pretty isn’t it?” She would tell him, when they spent nights out, hiding in the sanctity of a place no one would see them, and they would see nothing but the stars, twinkling throughout the entire night sky.
“Yes it is” he would say, and then he would glance at her with glistening eyes, staring into the wide open & she would take his breath away every time “No, I take it back” and she would look at him with those beautiful pair of eyes “You’re way prettier”
And she would smile. In her smile you could see his world. His everything. In her smile, his exhaustion would disappear, his worries gone and his heart would be happy
“I love you, Chorong” he would tell him each time, every waking day whenever he could “I do” reassuring her that she was his only one and that his heart belonged to no one else but her.
Too much happiness, they say, is never good. Because the world is cruel, and being happy always came with a price to pay.
He still remembered it clearly.
He remembers it like it happened only yesterday. Like he just finished watching a movie and couldn’t get over how good the plot was. Only that, this wasn’t a movie. This was his life.
He remembers everything.
How he ran like a mad man into the halls of the place where both good and evil collide. Some would go out, cured, happy & free of the pain. And some would remain in the torment, aching as their ill fate awaited them—the hospital. Pushing away every person that blocked his way, tripping on almost every step as he struggled to get a grip of what was happening,
He remembers seeing her friends—ones she had considered to be family, all five women bawling their own eyes out, loud cries escaping their lips as they held onto each other for strength. The others dropping on the ground, shaking their head, pulling their own hair in agony, pounding on their chests as they cried like mad women.
He remembers pushing through the doors of the ICU, despite all the doctors pulling him back and guards stopping him, he breaks through, pushing and kicking into the air, he fights to enter and they let him.
He remembers dropping onto the ground, his entire world crumbling into ashes as sounds and noises seized to exist, his entire body not functioning properly. Tears, which threatened to fall, brimming on the corner of his eyes, pleading to run down his cheeks as he made his way in.
He would not cry. No. Not until he confirmed it. Not until he saw her with his own eyes.
And he did.
Crystal clear was the image of her in his eyes.
Cold and pale and lifeless.
Lying on her deathbed.
He remembers how she looked back at the bridge. Her beautiful face, her faint smile, her glistening eyes as she told him she loved him.
For the last time.
There he mourned, on the cold tiled floor of the hospital walls, pulling his hair out as he ran his fingers deperately through them as he blamed himself, punching his chest as if it were to make any difference.
With trembling hands he remembers reaching for her hand. The warmest, softest, most fragile hand he had ever laid flesh on.
And yet in that moment, it was nothing like that.
Cold, numb, lifeless. He held onto her hand. As he allowed his tears to finally fall.
“Why? Why did you leave me?”
Kim Junmyeon woke up to a cbc shot on his index finger. A man in a white coat standing beside him.
“Do continue to give him his medication. His life's depending on it” The man had said. However, Junmyeon wasn’t even able to process it at all. Everything sounded gibberish to him as he squints his eyes, trying to get a clearer view of everything before him but to no avail, everything was a blur. Like a pale of water had been splashed in his eyes and he hadn’t been able to wipe it off.
He tried to move though his body did not permit it. Everything was so sore and his back ached like hell.
“Appa?” He hears a voice. A voice which was once soft and tender had turned into that of a grown woman’s.
Nameless she had been when he saw her cradled in a box. At a garbage can by the road along his home. Cold & barely breathing when he had rushed her to the hospital that same night.
She whom no one looked for. Whom no one wanted. Who once, twice or more had reminded him of someone dear. When her eyes had opened and he saw something he hadn’t seen for years. Sweet and fragile. She reminded him of a love so great.
Kim Chohee he had named her.