I picked his right hand, kissed it, held with both my hands.

I kissed each finger, lingering as I pressed my lips onto the tip of every perfect finger. I turned his palm over, pressed a special magic star wish, as he used to call them, into the well of his hand. He would curl up his hand and close his eyes and make a wish. He never told me what he wish for or if they came true, but he always did it so it must have given him some rewarding returns. Or maybe he was always hoping the next it would work.

I picked up his left hand, the mirror image to his right, pressed kisses to those fingers, that thumb, the well of that hand.

This is the last time I was able to do this. The last time.

We say last so many times, but never consider the gravity of the word. How final it is. Binding.

How soon will I forget?

I wondered. I have a lot of videos and pictures of him. We used to take copious amounts of photos, but if with only two of us to take pictures, I preferred to spend time on the other side of the camera, with him, doing things. I can hear his voice in my head and the words are clear. How soon before his voice is completely gone? With nothing etched in stone to remind me, how will I remember?

How soon, too, before I lose the full range of his expressions? Some were captured on film, frozen in photos, but they weren’t the same as seeing him. I can bring up so easily how he would look up to the heavens as he search for an answer to a question, how his eyes would widen and he’d stick the tip of his tongue out the corner of his mouth and his hands will cover his beautiful smile. I can lose myself in those memories. But how long will they last? I thought they were etched into my mind and heart, but are they? Won’t time erase them as it softened and blunted all memories?

I leaned down, touch a kiss on each of his eyelids. Each one closed, the long lashes resting gently on the area under his eyes. I pressed my lips to his forehead, lingering there.

I my fingers down on one side of his face, marveling as I always do at how soft his skin is. I my fingers down the other side of his face. You are beautiful.

I sat down in my chair, took his right hand and hold it in mine again. He held my hand almost everyday, while we crossed the road, while we walked along the promenade, while we stroll through the park, while we ambled along the road.

Sometimes while we watched tv and he got scared at something and would reach for me because, he said, he didn’t want me to be scared on my own.

I hold his hand against my cheek.

“You know,  Jaejoong, I realized something. You always worry about me, don’t you? So, I realized that you might still be here because you’re worried about me. I’ll be fine, though. I want you to know that. Remember that, always. There are so many people who will look after me. My family, Yoochun, Junsu, Changmin, they will take good care of me as you did. I’ll miss you, of course I will, but I want you to stop fighting this if it’s hurting you. I love you so much that I never want you to be in any pain.”

I hold on to his hand as I lay my head down on his chest, feeling the warmth of him, the outline of his hand against my cheek.

“I love you and it’s ok to go now. I’ll see you again so I won’t say goodbye. I’m going to say goodnight, instead. Sleep tight, Jae, my love. Goodnight, my beautiful love. Goodnight."

The rhythm of the machine is changing. The bleeps are slower, the gaps in between them longer.

I closed my eyes. I wished I could go to sleep. I wished I could go to sleep and be with him and hear him to speak to me one last time. Have him hug me, roll his eyes and ask if I’m feeling better.

I keep my eyes closed, allow myself to drift away.

“I love you,” I said to him.

The bleeps of the machine slow. Slower. Slower. Slower. And then…Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppp.

Steady. Slow. Continuous.

Over.

His hand is cold by the time I sit up. My face, cold.

Everything cold.

“Goodnight, my love.” I whisper to him. “Goodnight.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I love you and it’s ok to go now,” he hears Yunho say to him through the quiet. It’s dark here, but light too. He can’t see but there is light.

He knows it’s Yunho’s voice because no one else sounds like him. No one else.

“I’ll see you again so I won’t say goodbye. OK? I’ll see you again.” He isn’t crying. There aren’t tears in his words so he's not scared. “I’m going to say goodnight, instead. Sleep tight, Jae, my love. Goodnight my beautiful love. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Yunho,” he replies, and then goes to see what’s going on in the light.

The end.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading.