Darkness as far as the eye can see; no wind, no stir of the air, not even a slight noise to decipher any sort of placement. I reach my hands out in front of me in hopes of finding my way, but my heart falls as I realize that I can’t even make them out in the inky blackness.

 

Where am I?

 

“H-hello?” I call out, timidly at first. After a few moments of silence, I try again. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” I start to walk, ignoring the fact that I can’t see where I’m going. I have to get somewhere, anywhere, that isn’t here.

 

It’s not long before I’m sprinting, sweat starting to form on my skin, my heart pounding as I become frantic. And then all at once it hits me; I’m alone.

 

My heart sinks as I collapse on myself, my knees giving out. A wave of desperation engulfs me, making me feel jittery at the fact that I can’t do anything about it.

 

I shift my position to bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. I almost laugh. A fetal position, how fitting.

 

My mind races, a million questions flitting through my head, my thoughts not remembering the answers. A fear strikes me, an unreasonable fear that has the power to make me sick to my stomach. What if I don’t remember anything at all?

 

I start listing. I list small facts first, making sure I’m completely okay.

 

“My name is Lee Taemin. I’m nineteen years old. My birthday is on July eighteenth. I live in Seoul, South Korea. I’m an only child.” I take a deep breath to calm myself down before continuing. “I don’t know where I am. The last thing I can remember before waking up here is…” I trail off as another wave of fear starts gnawing its way into my stomach.

 

What’s the last thing I remember?

 

I think, scavenging my memory for any sort of clue. Drawing a blank, I sigh. The funny thing is, I can remember facts just fine, but I don’t seem to have much memory of visuals or time periods.

 

I start listing again.

 

“My best friend is Kim Kibum. I met him in third grade. I am a senior high school. I’m dating Choi Minho-”

 

As soon as I speak his name, a streak of pain rips through my head. I scream at the sudden intensity of it as it comes and passes.

 

If it weren’t for the complete mystery of my situation, I would have started crying. Unmanly, I knew, but I was only human.

 

I resign to simply sitting, idly staring straight ahead of me into the vast nothingness.

 

I don’t know how long I’d been there (Minutes? Hours? Days?), until a muffled sound snaps me out of my daze. 

 

My heart thumps with the sudden change in my situation as I strain my ears to listen. Voices. I don’t know where they’re coming from nor do I care, but I’m both unwilling and unable to stop the glimmer of hope that has made its way into my heart.

 

As I listen closer, a dull ache starts to form in my head. I ignore the pain and continue straining myself. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion; it’s almost as if I recognize the voices but I can’t seem to place the, Like words disappearing at the tip of a tongue, I can no longer remember.

 

“Hello?” I call out in vain, hoping that these new voices might be able to hear me. But the sound is lost to their ears as they give me no response.

 

I push myself even further, the ache in my head growing to a continuous pounding.

 

What were muffled voices slowly becomes clearer until I can finally decipher a few bits and pieces of what they’re saying.

 

“…All my fault…”

 

“…Wakes up…”

 

“…Hear me…?”

 

I frown as I realize that trying to make out the sentences and words is like trying to find a radio station with a broken antenna; fuzzy and frustrating.

 

“…It’s me, Minho…”

 

My eyes widen at the voice and I stand up. “Minho?” I call out, ignoring the pounding sensation behind my eyes.

 

I push myself harder than before, Minho’s voice giving me renewed determination as I try to break the metaphorical barrier that kept me from hearing him properly. 

 

“Minho!” I scream, no longer in a question but a statement; a demand to hear him that I refuse to have denied.

 

I feel it as the wall between us crashes; feel the difference as my surrounding become just slightly less lonely and suffocating. For no apparent reason, I stick my arms out in front of me like I had before, gasping in awe as I lay my eyes on my thin hands. Against all odds, I smile.

 

“Taemin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

I can hear him clearly now, no longer having to force myself, but the tone in his voice breaks my heart.

 

“It’s all my fault. If it hadn’t been for me, that driver would never have…” his voice trails off as it cracks.

 

I try to comprehend what he means. What driver? Why is it his fault?

 

“I can’t even begin to tell you how horrible it was, how scared I was, after the crash-”

 

He doesn’t trail off this time, I simply stop listening. A crash?

 

A skull splitting pain strikes, replacing the pounding in my head. A scream rips out of my mouth, a shrill, feral shriek as images begin to fill my mind.

 

A truck, an intersection, Minho signaling for someone else to go before us. An accident. Blood, my blood.

 

It’s only the warm touch of a hand on mine that brings me back to a dull ache and the barren nothingness. I whip my head to the side, hoping against all hope that someone has found me. I’m not surprised when I find no one there.

 

“If only you could hold my hand right now; tell me you’re fine,” I hear Minho say.

 

He’s holding my hand.

 

But where is he?

 

I reach out my hand to grab his in response, but I come into contact with nothing. I try again, a lump forming in my throat as I hit the blank air. I feel myself start to become desperate, feel the hysteria start to set in as I realize that no matter how much I move my hand, I can still feel his.

 

I reach again, gaining nothing. Again. This time I don’t even extend my hand gently, I slash the darkness. I know I’ve crossed some point of insanity but I don’t seem to care at the moment. I grunt as I wave my other arm out as well. I claw the bleak blackness, harsh and jerkily, my body thrashing with my movements. The lump in my throat bursts as I wail, tears starting to stream down my face.

 

Helplessly, I feel myself breaking. It’s torture being able to feel the raw emotions of my soul, yet not being able to act upon them. I moan and sob, ing my arms out wildly in attempt to do something.

 

I can still feel his hand on mine.

 

“All you have to do is wake up.”

 

Wake up?

 

My sobs don’t stop but my hands do as I reel the thought through my head. All I have to do is wake up?

 

“I am awake!” I screech in frustration, but as expected, I gain no response.

 

“Please, Taemin. Wake up.”

 

“I’m awake!” I yell. “I’m awake,” I repeat in a softer tone, my sobs breaking my voice. I keep repeating the line like a mantra, mumbling to myself as my cries die down and I’m reduced to a shaking mess as I collapse back down. “I’m awake.”

 

“Try kissing him,” another voice speaks.

 

I recognize the voice again, though I don’t know it as well.

 

“Jonghyun, what are you talking about?” Minho asks, his voice laced with exhaustion.

 

Kim Jonghyun, Minho’s best friend.

 

“Well it works in fairy tales like The Princess and the Frog, Snow White, uh…”

 

“Sleeping Beauty?” Minho offers.

 

Despite myself, I chuckle, the sound coming out as little more than a depressing cough. The childishness of the two was just too typical.

 

“Yeah, that. Something always happens with a kiss. Try it.”

 

“If only for the sake of kissing Taemin,” I hear Minho mutter under his breath before replying to Jonghyun. “Fine, but you’re crazy, you know.”

 

Suddenly, I feel the press of warm lips against mine. Instinctively, I kiss back, the empty feeling in my heart only growing as I push my lips against nothing. Tears prick the corners of my eyes.

 

“It’s not fair,” I whisper. I try reaching my hand out again, realizing that Minho’s was still holding it.

 

I freeze when I don’t simply touch air like I’d expected.

 

“I felt him move!” Minho exclaims.

 

“What?” Jonghyun calls in surprise.

 

“His hand, it moved.”

 

My heart rate starts to speed up as I twitch my hand again, feeling some sort of cloth.

 

“He’s moving!”

 

And suddenly, my gravity gets reoriented. I’m not sitting in darkness, I’m laying on something. I move my arm, feeling a surface beneath me that hadn’t been there before.

 

“Taemin, can you hear me?”

 

I push, hard and strong, coming to know that this is the last barrier. It’s greater than the wall that I’d tore down in order to hear him. This one is so much closer yet so much further away.

 

“I will wake up,” I say. I move my body again, but my heart drops when it no longer moves as easily as it could before. It pains me to move now, soreness spiking itself through my limbs at even the slightest effort.

 

“I will wake up,” I repeat.

 

I try again, my leg moving just the slightest.

 

“Taemin, wake up,” Minho pleads.

 

Another twitch, another dose of pain.

 

“Wake up!” Minho yells, encouraging me.

 

I will wake up, I think, finding my mouth no longer able to move.

 

I blink, but the blackness still surrounds me. Again. Nothing. Again. Again.

 

I twitch my body, different places, slowly gaining control of them. I blink.

 

Something miraculous happens; the inky darkness isn’t black anymore. Grey; lighter. I blink again. Lighter.

 

I will wake up!

 

It’s all of my determination, all of my will, all of my desperation, put into one thought.

 

And then I blink again and I don’t see a fuzzy grey, I see white. I see white and black in tiny little grained patterns.

 

I turn my head.

 

“You’re awake,” Minho says, and this time instead of only hearing him, I see him as well. The lump in my throat is back as I see his relieved smile, his dark eyes

glinting with so much care and love that I can’t even begin to describe it.

 

“Welcome back, Taemin.” I hear Jonghyun in the background, but I can’t bring myself to look away from Minho.

 

“It’s good to be back,” I reply, my voice hoarse but otherwise fine.

 

Minho laughs.

 

“I love you so much. Don’t ever put me through that again,” he scolds half heartedly as he engulfs me in a hug. I nod, finally able to embrace him back. I breathe deeply and let the sweet, familiar scent of his cologne fill my senses.

 

He pulls away and looks into my eyes before bending down and capturing my lips. My heart races in a way that it always does at the touch as I push my mouth up against his.

 

“Get a room,” Jonghyun mutters in a light voice, but Minho just smiles against my lips before he pulls back.

 

He caresses my forehead with his hand, pushing my bangs back to clear my face. I revel in the touch, practically purring at the feel of his warm, calloused hand.

 

Looking into my eyes with pure love, he whispers, “Saranghaeyo, my Sleeping Beauty.”