With your head hung low and the promise ring from three years ago resting between your fingers, you tried to ignore the shaking of your hand as you placed it on his palm.

You slowly let out a silent breath. “Thank you for understanding.”

Tick-tock, tick-tock, the long hand of the clock went ticking towards 11:54. Seungcheol sat upright on the bed. His hands, folded on his stomach, rose and fell with his breathing. His back surrendered to the comfort of the pillows that rested against the headboard which was about the only comfort he probably had all this time.

You tried not to meet his eyes and he knew why. He knew you. Before those three years of knowing more about each other every day, there were years you’ve shared that was founded in friendship. But the more he thought about it, the more he felt lost.

He saw the cracks in your resolve growing every second that passed. He saw you struggling as you put the final cut in what you shared. Your hands that he loved to hold, your hands that were cold and shaking, finally pushed his hand close with the ring inside. So, why? When you were trying so hard not to fall apart, why?

Seungcheol closed his eyes. Over three seasons have passed and yet the memory stung as fresh as it did that morning. But he was partly to be blamed. He agreed to it. He did willingly. It’s because he saw it happening before his eyes and yet he told himself that you both will get through it.

He made time when he was busy. He met you whenever he could. Even if he couldn’t, he made sure to squeeze in at least a tiny bit of his presence in your daily life. And in times when you had hours and hours together, long conversations were spent in reassurance and him telling you how important you were in his life. But maybe…maybe he loved you a little too much and had little time to show it.

“You’ll take care of yourself, right?”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he recalled what had happened.

Seungcheol ignored the strength leaving his lungs and his knees. “Of course. And you?”

How bold was he when he threw the question back. Even bolder still when he lied. No. Not bold but stupid. “Can’t we work it out?” “I’ll try harder.” “I still love you. Do you have to leave?” He wanted to say all these. 

But he didn’t.

He opened his eyes and watched the ceiling fan turn. What an endless cycle and oh, how he can relate.

There were days he spent in total normalcy, going on about his day, being so busy he doesn’t have time to think. And there were days when he needed all his strength not to fall back in this dark, and seemingly endless loop.

“Why do I still look for you?” he breathed, letting his body fall on the furniture. His eyes wandered around. The traces of you that he took hold of and tried pushing away… “Why do I still see you everywhere?”

Seungcheol clenched his fist against the mattress with memories upon memories flooding back: conversations where you would throw him a random fact and how your eyes would sparkle at your discoveries; lazy, indoor dates that included chicken takeout and chick flicks (he loved it and wasn’t shy about it); him playing around in the kitchen and you having to kick him out at times in order to actually be able to prepare food; how you would block his view with your whole body whenever you get competitive over video games; and the long drives you would have when either of you needed a breather and sung your lungs out at the cool of the night.

But even after piecing the memories together and trying to cope for who knows how long, “…in the end, I still need you.”

Even more questions flowed in his heart. If he said the things he wanted to say, would it have made a difference? If he asked for another chance, would you have given it to him? If he told you that he would still wait, will you consider going back to him?

But he didn’t.

You smiled at his question but both of you knew it was all pretend.

“Hey,” Seungcheol said, clenching his fist as he tried to fight himself from holding your hands like he always did, “I need to know that you will take care of yourself,” he said with a weak smile. “…more than when you were beside me.”

He shouldn’t have said it. Tears started to form and sting his eyes. He swallowed and made sure that his voice wouldn’t shake but, in the end, a small regretful sigh was all he could manage.

“I didn’t know I was this drunk on you,” he whispered when the dim glow of the single sunflower he bought yesterday caught his attention. Placed inside a vase on the table, it leaned its head at the wall behind it with the shadows of the night cast on its petals.

His phone, placed on the same table, lit up. It has to be the alarm from his calendar. 

Seungcheol sat up and walked towards his phone. His calendar alarm did go off.

He placed the phone back on the table with the numbers 12:01 glowing from behind the screen. He reached out and picked up the sunflower from the vase. Today marks what would’ve been your fourth year with him.