Scent of ferrous thick liquid obstructed his senses, the strange kind of warmth he had never felt dripping down the angle of his jaw, the sound of soft whimpers resonating through his ear canals and he forced his eyes open to an agonizing sensation from his waist above. His lower half was no longer registering any of the sensations within that nanosecond he blinked to the girl whose presence filled the passenger’s seat behind the shattered glasses.

She mirrored the exact same gaze he displayed to her, an ill-defined upward curve of a gentle smile buried underneath the distinct anguish engulfing her body whole.

Lips apart, hands inched forward dying to reach his other half but not even a whisper came out nor did his muscles even budged. The tongue that could no longer serve its purpose honoured the aptitude of their eyes to carry on the undertaking for words weren’t meant to be unspoken. The prominent bobbing of the projection in front of his neck, the painful gulp of air filling in her deflating lungs, the spilling of viscous liquid in crimson painted the blurring dim view –it was everything they had once wished away.

Her hair, her soft bangs that fell gracefully over her eyes, those beautiful pair of hazel sparkling orbs he once fell in love with. Those eyes that exerted a youthful innocence, her kind of stare that got him anchored to the paradise in her, indulging into the calming scent of syrupy cologne. Imperfect as she was, he found paradise in her. She was the kind that would be giving as angels gave, would proceed on loving as a mother would and she was the fundamental reason he felt gratified by life.

He, on the other hand was the point of collision between her dreams, the love that turned into her faith, the faith which in prompt metamorphosed into her religion. His eyes, his voice, his smile, his everything, him –they simply became her reasons for living for he’s the man she never wanted to bereave, the only one closest to Heaven that she would ever be. For now, all she could taste were those moments together because every second with him was compulsory for the reason that she breathed was his life.

Sleep, maybe it would just feel like sleep. They said subconscious states were slices of death after all so maybe this was it. One of it. And the thought of this dismissed his fear, it dismissed his hope to survive because life was flashing before his eyes and he knew it was for her as well. Like a movie rolled in front of his eyes, the view he couldn’t escape, he gazed at it and reminisced. There was the list, the list where she was the part of all of it, the list where he would never fail to miss once this came to an end.

He would miss her voice. The feminine voice that sang him made up lullabies. The voice that croaked a morning greeting to him with the sunlight blinding their sleepy eyes while they fantasized about milk toast and honey crumbs. Her broken voice, uttering heartfelt apologies during the times she thought she wasn’t good enough for him and he would hug her for hours because she was always enough for him.

He would miss her laughter. The outburst of screaming laughter when he lifted her off the ground and spun her around. The sceptical one she made upon hearing her best friend marrying a high school enemy. The way she giggled at silly commercials on TV or at those times when he planted kisses along the back of her neck because it tickled her.
He would miss her little complains. The way she complained about her uneven double eyelids while he thought they were the loveliest parts of her.
The way she would rant on how her favourite ship wasn’t sailing, her nagging on him for the times he forgot to reset the temperature of the shower back to cold because unlike him, her skin wasn’t made for hot bathing on summer.
He would miss their house and the walls of their bedroom that were painted uneven shades of light brown because they were too thrifty to hire professional labours to complete the job. And all in all, he knew that he would miss the mornings when he woke up to her lying close in his arms and breathed against his neck.

Conversely, she would miss the way he . The times he leaned over for a kiss but stopped midway because he found watching her trembling lips and nervous gulp was more entertaining.
The silly times he actually sat on her laps just to get her to stop rattling about his addiction for electronic gadgets.  And she would bury that particular moment in her mind when he pointed at some random old woman, claiming that it was his distant aunt which got her experiencing the biggest embarrassment in life because it was another joke he decided to pull on her. It irked her for a long time, it still irked her yesterday but somehow it didn’t irk her anymore today.

She would miss his smile. The innocent smile he had on his pretty face when he accidentally spilled sugar over the kitchen countertop. The cunning one when he planned on tricking his twin nephews into believing that their mom was a vampire and they were half breed. The loving smile he secretly threw at her while sitting in between his friends who were ranting over their partners’ habits. He marked his words to her, saying that he was never a part of that topic and she smiled because she knew he wasn’t.

She would miss the way he would rub her back during the times she cried at night, keeping his silence and healed her by just being there. The tenderness of his touch when he twirls her around for an impromptu dance, out of beat and out of pace. The times he got her heart multiplied by the sway of his perfection or the sudden backhugs he gave her while she stood behind the closet, dawdling for perfect clothes. All of these, she would be missing every one of the mentioned.

The five kids they dreamed of. The house by the seashore they planned in mind. The wooden swing they’d spent their evenings watching sunset at forty years from now. The ring that was supposed to dress around her finger, the white lacy wedding gown she was supposed to put on while he watched her walking down the altar and the vow that should have echoed beneath the Heavens’ consent. Everything that never was.

And sooner or later it would probably be over. A second, a minute, an hour, the ticking clock they couldn’t predict while life flashed before them.
In between those seconds she gasped arduous breaths, in between those minutes remaining he dreadfully outreached for the hope of anything that could lessen her pain. He tried praying because God always listened but the sound of her excruciating whimper told him it didn’t work this time. Maybe he should have closed his eyes and tried once more but he was afraid. He was afraid to shut the only way they were to communicate so he stayed awake. Despite his own unbearable disseminating pain crumpling his chest and threw him into slow suffocation, he kept his eyes open.

“I’m tired.” Slowly, painfully he watched her eyelids drooping in what seemed like a sign she was finally falling asleep when he knew it was far from that. The severe haemorrhage trapped her into extreme exhaustion she felt for the first time, the cherry tinted lips that were taken over by pallid shades and there was only a final smile that couldn’t be shaped even at the utmost attempt. Peacefully, he wanted to let her go with at least a brush of his skin against her because he wanted her to take along the last warmth he could provide.
“It hurts.” She told him. I know, he couldn’t tell her that. And those many other things that remained unsaid accumulating inside his throat. The muffled syllables touching the chords of his heartstrings would preserve the vibration through eternity.

Drops of crystal clear liquid hanging on her lashes and as she blinked, they overflowed down to her porcelain cheeks tracing the sides of her face he often while she’s asleep. The tears that took their final course draining between her lips couldn’t cure the thirst but she was contented for she could read every word expressed through his eyes. I love you. I love you yesterday, I love you today and I’ll love you tomorrow in the afterlife.

 A gentle bob she hardly made and the tears blurred her vision with the deafening silence, she put herself to sleep. Maybe she was exaggerating but she thought she heard her own heart stopping at the last intertwine of their fingers. He reached her. With her eyes closed, she couldn’t see how he managed to with those broken parts of his body, the metal that pierced through his ribs but he reached her, he did.
“I’ll see you in a while.” It was a breathless whisper but it was his voice, still. And it was the greatest closure of this last chapter in her life, in their lives.
 
Two different life clocks attained their endings that night.
His name was Kim Jongin and her name was Im Yoona.

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A/N : A story inspired by Neyo’s beautiful song called Part of the List and yes, I plagiarized the title to-tal-ly. SWAG. not.

Anyway, the lyrics really get to me and I thought, hey why not make an angsty story because it’ll be so hard and I’m going to burn my brain alive because I’m ‘intelligent’ enough to believe I can actually make something out of this. /sigh because hopeless/

And if you lovely readers paid even a little bit of attention, you’d realise that I never once mentioned their names all throughout the paragraphs until reaching the last sentence. Why? Because I want to deliver a message here that somewhere in this wide world, while we’re having fun and laughing and crying for our OTPs, this kind of tragedy could happen elsewhere and we all (the uninvolved people) shall remain in the state of oblivion. Who died? Not my family, not my friend, not my acquaintance. People we don’t know = nobody, right? So I’m actually giving a portrayal that somewhere along this moment while we’re busy with our own lives, someone’s dying and someone’s creating their own stories out there and it’s not always beautiful and sometimes it remains unknown to the world. I fail at explaining things but I have high expectations in you guys so I don’t think I need to elaborate further for you to catch my point. /I’m a looooooser/ K, bye. :>