(A/N):
Just reuploading it here for the collection.

Inspired by WINNER's HAVE A GOOD DAY
Written and published on aff : April 16 2018

This is a little tribute to Sewol Ferry and remembering our fallen loved ones. Thank you.

***

HAVE A GOOD DAY
Chapter 1. The end.

“How long has it been? How many weeks had passed by? How many months and year since the very last time? I miss you. I really do.”

The brunette finally pressed the send icon, eyes focusing onto the small word right under the bubble.

Sending..
Delivered..

She waited, one minute, five minutes, thirty minutes but it didn't change at all. She wanted nothing but to see the 'Delivered' morphs into 'Read'. She blinked, she sighed, she sniffed, she cried.

"I miss you so much." she whispers, crying while holding the phone tightly against her chest. Another day, another night, another tears wasted over a spilled milk.

Her heart hurts, nothing beats the pain of losing someone you'll never ever have, nothing beats the suffocation of being drowned in sorrow and regret, nothing beats the loneliness of the emptiness that it brought to her life.

She looks up, tears still b down her cheeks - messing her up even more than her messed up life. Her sad and trembling lips slowly turned into a smile — still crying, she looks stupid but who actually cares? She's alone anyway — after seeing the line of picture frames across the room.

"I miss your smile." she says as she stands up, approaching the picture frames.

That gummy smile. It's so infectious.

Those fluffy cheeks. She misses pinching them. She misses holding them. She misses caressing them.

Among the frames, she spots the shot she personally took years back when they were still college students and roommates. It was a candid shot in which she took when the woman looked at the lenses out of nowhere. She remembered how her stomach churned that moment. It was the first time. 'But I was so naive.'

"I miss how you look at me." she says as she caresses the glass of the frame.

The intensity, playfulness and innocence behind the gaze which always threw her to an abyss, to an oblivion.

Another tear drops. I miss you.

Frames after frames. Memories after memories.

Them being playful along with their other friends. Them being all serious with their individual works because the other woman has a keen of setting her own camera else where while they're either studying or finishing their projects. She protested it at first saying it was creepy but the latter would always say, 'Pictures are our return tickets to a moment otherwise gone.'

Until she reached the last frame. Her last shot of her. She holds and takes the frame with so much care. She holds it properly as if it would break if she would