A/N: I'm not very sure about funeral services and whatnot, so I'll do it... Like a mix? I hope it'll be fine. Also, remember Dara's cancer? I don't know if there's an exact type that fits the story. I'm sorry, but the tecnnicals of this story isn't very stable with proper facts. I hope you guys don't mind...

DISCLAIMER:

I don't know if the story on Facebook is real or fake, but please be noted that the vague plot of this story (guy has a mistress, wife had cancer, the 'requirements' for the divorce) does not belong to me- it isn't me who came up with it). However, I do own the memories and others...

WAIT I DON'T OWN KWON JIYONG, DARA PARK and SOHEE. Jirin is mine though.

YAY! Okay, on with the storeh.

You have to listen to this while you read :o I cried when I heard this song, LOL. It's a beautiful song, and the composer himself plays it with so much emotion... All his songs are very nice. You should listen to them when you have time.

if you listen to this song and read this chapter slowly, you'll find that the song goes along really well as the chapter proceeds.

SO LISTEN TO IT AND READ THE NEW UPDATE! :)

[3rd Person's POV]

Funerals were never a happy occasion. Jiyong remembered when he had been a mere child of eight years old, standing with his parents, tears gathering in his eyes. His beloved grandmother, who was always there with a cookie and a special hug, had died and he had spent a few days crying his days along when he heard of the news.

Of course, as the years passed, he went to a few more funerals here and there. He dealt with the numbness that his heart brought with a stoic face throughout the service but today was different.

Dara was gone.

He wouldn't see her heartwarming smile again, and he wouldn't be able to hear her melodic voice chiming throught the halls. Sighing, Jiyong took a glance around the halls. It had been painted a plain white, but Jiyong had took it upon himself to decorate the place with many different types of flowers. it was just as Dara would like it, he was sure. She wouldn't want it to be drab and gray, but bursting with colours of nature.

"It's just amazing. How they all grow together. With bright yellow everywhere, and the sun shining on them!"

It is amazing. He could see it now.

"Isn't it amazing how nature created colours?" Her voice was but a musical, dreamy note as she trailed off. "When we use ink and horrible technology to get colours, nature does it brighter and more beautifully than any of us could. The yellow is amazing, and brighter than any other yellow..."

Dara was right. The brightly different-coloured flowers were qiute a sight, and they had a wonderful scent that permeated the room. Although Dara had brought up the fact that she found roses ordinary, Jiyong didn't want to leave them out, as he found those fully in bloom beautiful. White for innocence- he found that Dara was the epitome of innocence, a mature bouquet of red as gratitude, and a single red rose in full bloom placed randomly around the room for eternal love.

White lilies certainly couldn't be left out, for they were Dara's favourite flowers. They stood for purity and sweetness, a part of Dara that he had found endearing.

He had thrown in sweetpeas as well. They stood for departure, and goodbye. Tulips, sunflowers, chamomile flowers, bluebells, chrysanthemums, daisies, honeysuckles, and many more- all in different colours. Just for this funeral, Jiyong had spent days and nights researching on flowers and their different meanings, feeling rather silly. However, as he gazed around the room, he felt satisfied and wouldn't have it any other way.

The funeral had started off on a sombre note. No one could look each other in the eye, and some were crying- Chaerin especially, who had finally told everyone that she had known about Dara's illness all along, but had not been allowed to reveal it. Some were upset that she had kept it from others, but it couldn't be helped.

One by one, the people walked up to Dara's casket. It was beautiful. The case had a transparent lid that showed Dara clearly. Her lips pulled into a barely visible smile and her eyes closed, she looked at peace. Dara was dressed in a white dress, her hands placed together on her middle where a bouquet of lilies laid tucked in her delicate fingers. Part of her hair was braided and intertwined with small flowers, and the rest haloed above her head. If one observed closely, they would see that she was skinnier than normal, and hair less vibrant than it should be.

But it didn't matter anymore.

Dara was at peace.

A lone tear formed and Jiyong swiped at it quickly. A line had formed to see Dara for one last time. At the corner of his eye, he saw Park Bom, Dara's twin sister, sobbing as she clutched onto the casket.

"Dara!" Her cries were heard throughout the large hall, and Jiyong shook his head- she always had a loud mouth, after all. "Come back! Dara-yah!"

"Bommie," Chaerin continued softly. "She is already gone. What is done cannot be undone, after all." This was accompanied with a sad smile and glittering eyes.

Bom brought her hand to stifle her cry, "she'll come back. I know she will. This is just one of her tricks again. She always liked to joke around." Sighing, TOP pried her away from the casket, passing her to Chaerin (he was never good at consoling crying women).

"Noona... Dara noona..." She mumbled to herself as Chaerin rocked her slowly, bringing her away with TOP and Seungri assisting her. Dara's parents stood nearby, grief written all over their faces.

"I can't believe she's gone," Dara's mother murmured, dabbing her handkerchief against her tearing eyes. "So fast, and before us, too." A parent should never have to put their child to rest. Even her strong-willed father was shedding a tear or two. "I know dear, I know..."

Jirin sniffled as he rubbed his eyes. He had been sitting next to the casket ('near to his Eomma' he had replied with, when people asked him to sit somewhere else more comfortable). He refused to look at anyone. "Eomma..."

"I'll be a good boy. I'll do my work. I won't make you angry anymore... Please don't leave me here," he sobbed quietly, clutching the soft fabric of the bottom part of the casket.

Finally, everybody made their way back to the seats.

The first one to speak was Chaerin.

"I can't believe I'm here today, because it's my best friend's funeral. I really can't. It's as if it was only yesterday when we met, only yesterday when we gossiped about boys and crushes, and had fun. I will never forget her. I'm sorry that I had kept this from everyone, but... Dara was diagnosed with cancer around a month ago. It was around the later stages where survival after an operation was minimal- she could've died. So she chose to forgo the op and just live.

Live till God called her back."

"It hurt so much whenever I thought of it. I had to keep it a secret because she didn't want anyone else to know," Chaerin glared sharply at Jiyong and he flinched. "However, I feel relieved for her. That she can finally be at peace after a month of pain and suffering. "I will never forget her."

Hushed applause came from the audience. One by one, people who were close to Dara went up to say a few words.

Her parents had choked out a sentence before walking off, clearly too upset to say anything.

Her friends said they would miss her.

On the other hand, Bom was hysterical. She stood on the podium, sobbing as she clutched the microphone. "I can't imagine a life without my twin. Though we aren't identical twins, there isn't anyone else who understood me more than her. When I was upset, she knew exactly what to say to comfort me. When I was happy, she knew how to share my joy. I remember on my prom night, I had actually managed to ask Seunghyun to be my date," she smiled wistfully. "He was my crush at that time, didn't even know me. I was like, one of his stalkers. I was terribly nervous in my room and really couldn't decide what to wear. I even vomited because I was too hyped up.

Then, Dara had swept in like an angel and said, 'Now, don't panic. I used to feel the exact same way during my prom night. And Jiyong looked so handsome I could've died. Seriously.' We laughed together. She picked out my dress, did my makeup, curled my hair. And she wished me good luck. She said, 'I really hope you get your dream guy, Bommie. Because I know that I have mine. Good luck!' She was so in love with Jiyong," Bom snorted.

"It was like the main subject whenever we had a girl talk. 'Oh my gosh, did you see the way he styled his hair this morning? I almost fainted when he winked at me!' Stuff like that. I used to get a tiny bit annoyed when she went on rambling for hours. But now, I would've listened to her rambling forever if it meant she was still alive, with us. She was my best friend and my sister all rolled into one. I will never forget her. Thank you."

With a quick bow, she stepped down, wiping away her tears.

When little Jirin trotted onto the stage nervously, Jiyong smiled sadly. "My Appa told me I didn't have to say anything," the boy gulped, "but I wanted to."

"My Eomma was the best on Earth. She would bake cookies, and cook really good food. I'll miss her cooking," he sniffed, cleaning his snot on his jacket. "She would read me bedtime stories until I fell asleep. She never raised her voice, or hit me harshly before, unless I really, really, really deserve it. I love my Eomma. I really, really, really do. And I hope to see her again, because Appa told me that she'll be watching over us. Thank you, Eomma, for all the love you've given me." 

It seemed rather unreal when Jiyong made his way to the platform and paused in front of the microphone. In fact, the whole situation felt surreal, as if he would just wake from a bad dream, and find Dara asleep next to him. After a few seconds, his lips pulled down sadly and he shook his head. He had chosen to be the last to give his speech.

"I stand before all of you today," Jiyong paused to take in a shaky breath, "ashamed. For all my wrongdoings I have done towards my beautiful wife. Words and mere apologies are not enough to bring her back; not enough to excuse me from my sins. And so, I can only pray that she will forgive me."

From somewhere among the audience, Chaerin sighed sadly. So many things went wrong.

"I still remember the first time I saw her. Strangers, nothing more. Yet now, I stand here as her husband, her love. It's amazing how time passes so quickly. So many years have fled past me, but when I close my eyes, it's like it was just yesterday when we met. Just yesterday when we married. As if she's still here with me. And just like the first time I saw her, her hair was shining prettily in the sunlight, smile as wide as ever."

Tears brimmed his eyes but he swiped them away angrily. "Also, just like the first time she caught my heart, she still has it. I have already started to miss her more than anything else in my life."

The ambience was sad, but when Jiyong smiles- everything seemed right. The way the flowers that decorated the hall filled his senses with their bright colours and scent. He could almost imagine Dara standing among the flowers, still smiling prettily.

"In fact, I solemnly vow, that she's watching us from above, laughing merrily- and I hope with all my heart, waiting for me to join her when my time has come." Weak laughter came from the crowd and Jiyong smiled. "We shouldn't be sad. Dara wouldn't want us to be crying all day long. And so, we should smile. Smile that we were able to get to know her, to have her in our lives.

She was my star."

With that, Jiyong stepped down from the podium. People started to stream out of the hall. Small Jirin was still crying even after many hours, his eyes puffy and swollen. "Let's go, Jirin," Jiyong's mother said softly as she tugged the young child along, understanding that Jiyong needed some last few minutes of alone time with Dara.

When he was the only one left in the hall, he walked slowly to the casket. Dara laid there unmoving, and finally, real hard tears starting flowing. Choking, he laid his eyes on the casket.

Just one more time, open your eyes for me.

Just one last time.

Jiyong sniffed. Nothing had happened. Her eyes remained close.

Dara-ah, don't leave me here. I can't do this without you.

Please.

Just one last time.

Kissing his shaking palm, he pressed it to the glass near Dara's face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and slid down the side of the casket, sitting on the floor. I'm sorry.

He didn't notice the door opening slightly- just a crack. A woman peered through it and gulped. I'm sorry too. With a swish of her well- conditioned hair, Sohee left.

"I can't do this without you, Dara-ah..." Jiyong whispered, his voice breaking. "Don't leave me, please."

"I take everything back. Memories aren't enough- and will never be. It's nothing compared to having you with me right now. Nothing will ever be the same. Please, come back."

"I still love you. Deep down, I never wanted to have a divorce with you. I just lost my mind. i was so frustrated with work, but you used to smile gently and say, 'I'm sure everything would get better soon.'"

"But it didn't. You're not here with me anymore.

I'm sorry."

"I love you. Never forget that. And wait for me. I'll join you someday," he choked out as he stared at her sleeping face. Or what seemed like it.

*** ***

He stayed there, muttering to himself, pleading to her, until someone came to tell him that they would be removing her body soon. Incoherent, he had grabbed onto the man.

"No! I won't let you take her!" As if drunk, Jiyong stumbled to his feet. "I can't have her gone, can't you see?"

When the man patted his hand, Jiyong knew that he thought he was mad. "Just a few more minutes, son."

Nodding dully, Jiyong turned towards the casket.

"Did you hear that?" He said to it. "I have to go now."

No one replied.

"I guess this is goodbye."

His hand brushed near the glass, wishing he was holding her hand instead. Then he leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the side of the casket near her ear.

Before he could change his mind, Jiyong turned around firmly. Determined not to look back. He strode towards the door quickly.

Reaching the door, his hand lingered on the handle.

Just one last time, Jiyong promised himself, turning his head to take in her features one last time.

I love you.

Swallowing the urge to cry, he exited the hall and closed the door behind him. A stray tear slipped from his eyes.

As the door swung shut slowly, he didn't notice the petals on the floor swirling gently. It would've been impossible. There were no windows, no gaps for wind to be present. Still, the fallen petals rustled gently, lifting off the floor.

Faint, gentle laughter echoed through the room.

I'll be waiting for you. And I love you too...

okay,  one more chapter guys :) then its finished!

by the way, I'm thinking of writing a daragon oneshot.

It's kinda angsty, and it's facebook-post- inspired as well!

Should I? :D

COMMENT GUYS PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

If no one's going to read the oneshot, then maybe I won't post it e-e

xoxo