His scent filled the room. On any other occasion, I wouldn’t hesitate to turn to him, smile, and open the blankets up for him. He’d crawl under them and we’d look at each other and say nothing, for our eyes could say it all. There would be silent “I love you”s and our lips would meet slowly and passionately. Our relationship had always been intense, including make-out sessions in the kitchen as Ryeowook made breakfast. Leeteuk would always scold us, and we always ignored him, but even we would take a break from those intense moments at times for blissfully sweet moments like smiling under the blankets at each other.

However, this time, I didn’t turn to him, he didn’t crawl under the blankets, and we didn’t say silent “I love you”s. He stood at the door’s entrance, and I faced the wall in my bed, soundless tears trailing down my face. I already knew I was dying…it made no difference to me when it happened; I just wanted to see him again. Whenever it came time to eat, I never had an appetite. Siwon would sometimes convince me to eat, and Leeteuk, too, other times. It was probably the reason I was alive today.

I guessed that either I didn’t want to turn to see Hangeng or I was too weak to do so. The logical explanation was of course the second choice, because the whole reason I was in this mess was because I loved Hangeng more than words could describe. When he moved back to China, he took my heart with him – at least, in a figurative sense. The reality of it was that I was in pain. It literally hurt to do anything, and the hole he left seemed as big as Shindong’s stomach. His lawsuit in 2009 had struck hard, and I felt the change in myself. I know the fans did, too… Then his official leave on September 27^th, 2011 (that God-awful day) ended it for me. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t try to stop it, by then. I had already given up, so I lied and told the fans I would be leaving for the army on September 1^st when really, that was when my soul died.

“Chullie… I’ll be back.” He had promised. No, no… he had lied.

I found myself muttering those words, and the sound of my hoarse voice brought me out of my fog. “Liar…liar…”

“Heechul? What are you talking about?” There… that honey-sweet voice of his. I’d clung to the memory of his touch, his kiss, his voice, and now that I had one, I almost believed I might get the other two.

“You lied, Hangeng. You said you’d be back.”

“I am back, Chullie.” I heard the rustle of fabric as he stepped into the room and sat at the edge of the bed.

Numbly, I shook my head. “You’re only back because of my condition.”

“Heechul… I love you. That’s why I came back.”

“You should’ve come back sooner, then.”

“Heechul…” His voice was barely a whisper. “Please don’t do this to me. You know I love you more than life itself.”

“So do I.” I coughed. “Maybe that’s why I’m dying.”

“Please eat. Please live.”

“It wouldn’t matter if I ate or not, now. I don’t have the strength, anyway.”

“I’ll help you, then. Let me go get some ramen…”

“Hangeng…!” I was surprised at how loud I was able to say his name. With that beautiful name, though, came a series of coughs. “S-stay with me.”

“Heechul…”

“Please… do me one favor.”

“Yes. Anything.”

“I want you to… I want you to kiss me one last time.” And then his lips were on mine, gently, like one of those blissful kisses shared under the blankets – a secret tie between the two of us. Tears I’d been holding in for so long finally escaped at this last kiss we shared. He cried, then, too, because we both knew it would be our last. I held on to the taste of his lips and the touch of his skin on my own as he slowly pulled away from me.

I chuckled softly. “What could be funny at a time like this?” Hangeng’s whispered breath fell on my nose and tickled the skin there.

“I wonder if Siwon’s right about God. Where do you think I’ll go? Heaven or Hell?”

“Chullie… don’t joke about this.”

“Please answer the question.”

“You’ll go to Heaven, of course. You’ll be my angel, Chullie, and I’ll hear your voice in my head singing me to sleep and then I’ll see you in my dreams. You’ll tell me there – in my dreams – that you love me and you want me to come to you, but not to do anything rash. You’ll tell me to live my life normally and to fall in love and get married and have beautiful mini-Hannies, even though we both know that I never will, because if you’re gone, I can’t be happy. I’ll wake up sobbing in the middle of the night because I miss you so much, and not a single person on this earth will ever take your place – nor will they be given the opportunity. You were my first kiss and I swear to you that you’ll be my last kiss, too, because that way I can close my eyes and remember every kiss we ever shared, every moment we ever spent with each other, every conversation, and every time we were apart and I longed for you. You’ll go to Heaven, Chullie, I promise.” We were both sobbing hard at the end of Hangeng’s speech, his tears mixing with my own and falling down my face onto my pillow.

“Hangeng… I love you so much… Never forget that, okay?” He nodded, and that damn coughing attack started up again, and I coughed and coughed and coughed until red blood soaked the sheets. I felt my heart slow and I looked up at the only man I’d ever loved until I could no longer breathe.

I think my soul stayed there for a while, though I was no longer living. I vaguely heard Hangeng scream ‘no’ and then people running through the door to get one last look at their newly-deceased member. I wonder what I looked like. I suppose there was blood on my face and tears on my cheeks. Siwon closed my eyes and kissed my forehead, and slowly, my closest friends got up to leave the room. Hangeng stayed longest, crying into my chest. My spirit had begun to float upwards when the priest arrived with some other people who had to literally pry my beautiful Hannie away from my dead body. He left the room fighting and screaming.

A year later, I kept my promise to Hangeng. I sang him to sleep every night without fail and I would visit him in his dreams. I told him everything he had told me that day, about how I loved him and I wanted him to come to me when the time was right. I told him not to make the same choices I did, and I told him to get married and have children on more than one occasion. Every time, he would tell me he never would.

My love is 72, now, and seeing him old makes me wonder how I would look if I were still alive. I told him this last night and he said I would be as flawless as ever, without a wrinkle on my face. I think he’s lying, but it makes me smile. I tell him I wish I could hold him, and he tells me that it won’t be long, now, before he returns to me.

After all, the life expectancy in China is 73.