Numbing pain shot through his blood like suffocating black poison, tainting his immune system and weakening the protective layers of his skeleton, affecting his mind and nervous system with each saddened beat of his slowing heart. The young man who at one time was gorgeous and topped to the brim with cheerful spirit and care now looked how he felt; his clear gorgeous skin was papery thin and white, his onlooking sparkling gaze had become dull and hollow, and his hair, once groomed to perfection daily, was now messy and in small tufts of unclean brown.

It had been a year since the untimely demise of his heart. That heart, which was given willingly to the most beautiful being in all the universe and planets, now resided deep in the earth, encased in a casket with its owner. And it was all because of that stupid stranger's kid. The sickly male remembered that fateful day with chaotic clarity, and though it pained him emotionally to think back upon it, he found himself doing it regularly nowadays.

The weather was getting thick and dull due to the threat of rain overhead the busy city of Seoul, he remembered, yet for the older of the young couple he felt that even the dark atmosphere could not ruin a more perfect time of year. He had been gazing out the droplet splattered window of his sitting room, sights searching for the familiar frame of his soul, when it had occured. It was faster than lightning, thicker than blood.

A speeding car was maneuvering down the road, track of unknown path leading the illegally driven vehicle into the opposite lane of traffic, wheels squealing in protest at the jerking of the steering equipment, and then his light distinguished. His other half lay sprawled on the earth in a broken manner, and though seen from a gradually closing distance, scarlet liquid was seen mixed with spattering droplets on the asphault, the shaded red surrounding the fallen form.

An overwhelming degree of sadness overtook the older as he held his tangible spirit in his wifebeater clad arms, the clear little amounts of falling water arranging themselves on his exposed flesh and gel-slicked hair. 

Nothing can describe the piercing sensation of longing, disbelief, and fear clenching around the organ enclosed in the cage of the chest during a moment such as this. Words to define this sensation do not exist in any book or dictionary of the world. Tears enter your eyes, your mouth salavates more than usual, and your lungs feel suffocated by the weight of loss gripping onto your shoulders in a restraining hold of possession.

In the beginning of the grieving cycle, you wish with all your will to replace that feverish emotion with something, anything else whilst telling yourself that person will take a breath of life again. But then the wailing repetitive sirens you know so well which used to pass through others lives breaks through your barriers, echoing in your ear canal, and you can't help but desire only to be with that person eternally. You wish more than anything that you could have spent more time with that person, wished you had kissed those lips during the rare times that you fought over the littlest things rather than continued screaming in rage.

Sometimes those in the grieving process, deep within the steps, wish to end their lives and join their loved ones. Others tell themselves that the people they will eternally care for would want them to move on and be happy. Yet what about the other handful of people, the ones who don't have a clue as to what they're going to do in the future, or even in the present? They sit in a scrunched ball, slowly losing their grip on health and reality until the day death comes to take them in its arms, as well.

Week upon week, he would plead for death to visit his side while he sat in the patio chair on the upstairs balcony or when he was lying in bed reflecting on past memories hour after hour. And yet death never came, never once gave him relief, and he was left to sleep alone, shaking with fury and hatred, fueled by a feeling of utter loneliness.

Walking into his bedroom from the bathroom across the hall, pained steps were the only thing he felt until his feather-filled mattress carressed his frail limbs and he carefully laid upon the sheets, pulling the comfortor up to his chest. Resting his head on the soft pillow underneath him, a sigh escaped his chapped lips, and he closed his stinging eyes with an empty mind.

A calm, unexperienced by any other, took over his senses after several hours, the warm scent of familiar cologne tracing his sense of smell. His body felt replenished and alive again, and he smiled gently as a soft light trickled passed his closed eyelids. Opening his eyes with slight hesitance, undoubted fear entering his weak mental state, he was greeted by a white open room; the window on the far left side open to reveal crystal cerulean waves lapping at the pale warm sand, cream furniture, and a flawless brunette with a dazzling pearl smile sitting beside him, holding his hand.

"Sungjongie..."

Exhaustion seeped immediately into his body whilst he murmured the nickname, and yet his spiritual energy was alive and beating. Sitting up and embracing the owner of his heart, he inhaled the comforting scent of his lover and closed his eyes, tightening his hold on the smaller and running his hand through the other's silky hair, a sensation of weightlessness entering into his mind.

"I'm home, Jongie... I'm home."

A/N: My first one shot. Let me know what you think haha. It was kind of depressing, I have to be honest, but I wasn't in the mood to write anything happy today... Not sure why. I think it's because I'm tired. But go ahead and comment :] I hope it was good. If anyone's confused, then... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to be confusing. :{ If you have questions, don't hesitate to ask, and I'll reply with the best answer I can muster. ^^ Thanks.