"Taekwoon," the voice comes soft and happy through the phone. Taekwoon clutches the phone tighter to his ear and hums a response. "Are you up for dinner tonight?" Pause. Clears throat. "I was thinking we could go to that Chinese restaurant we both like out in the outskirts of town. Do you remember that place?"

Taekwoon's always liked the way Hongbin's voice resonates. It's so reedy and warm. "Yeah," Taekwoon murmurs, shuffling through a stack of mail on his kitchen counter. "I remember."

He remembers it all—from meeting nineteen-year-old Hongbin just before he turned twenty, to Christmas together, to all the little things in between. "So do you want to go?" Hongbin adds a light nervous laugh.

Taekwoon nods at first, then realizes Hongbin can't hear nods when they're on the phone. "Sure," he says, separating the bills and the junk mail. "I'll pick you up in twenty,"

Even over the phone, Taekwoon can tell Hongbin is smiling, all teeth and dimples. "I'll see you then," Hongbin chirps.

Taekwoon hangs up the phone and sets it screen-down on the countertop, opening up his utilities bill. He allows himself his own small smile, glancing over the papers in the envelope before setting them aside and going to get ready to pick up Hongbin. He changes his shirt and looks at himself in the full-length mirror in his cluttered bedroom, adjusting the hem of the white jersey tank top over the waist of his jeans. Satisfied, Taekwoon nods at his reflection and heads for the door.

He grabs an umbrella from the stand on the doorstep and opens it right away, dashing through the warm June rain to his car. It's red and ancient, but Taekwoon still loves it—it's been trustworthy for so long, and more importantly, it was his first car. He gets in and slams the door behind himself, tossing the umbrella into the back seat and fishes his keys out of his pants pocket. His parents had offered to buy him a new car in the past ("Maybe a nice BMW or—or a Porsche," they'd said), but Taekwoon refused. He didn't need expensive things to be happy. Just Hongbin and his beat-up Fiat and the music in his head. The car starts with a stuttering roar, and Taekwoon backs up out of his driveway with the windshield wipers on high.

The drive to Hongbin's house is short—he lives just in the next neighborhood over, in the slightly less expensive homes, with his grandparents. Taekwoon isn't sure why Hongbin lives with his grandparents, and he's never met Hongbin's parents. Hongbin never really talks about his family. Which is just fine with Taekwoon, as he doesn't talk much about his own, either. Taekwoon pulls up in front of Hongbin's grandparent's cottage-y home, and taps the horn. The front door opens after a moment and Hongbin steps out, stopping for a heartbeat to say something to his grandmother in the doorway. Hongbin hops down the walkway to Taekwoon's car, and Hongbin's grandmother waves warmly at Taekwoon with a kind smile. Taekwoon returns the wave as Hongbin climbs into the passenger seat.

"Hi," Hongbin chimes, leaning over and kissing Taekwoon on the corner of his mouth.

"Hey," Taekwoon mumbles, pressing on the gas again.

As much as Taekwoon might love Hongbin, they've always had a slight problem. Taekwoon's never been very good at expressing himself and… it frustrates Hongbin.

They arrive at the restaurant and order their food, Hongbin beaming the entire time. He chatters about this and that and the new Kodak film he's excited to try, and at one point pulls out a clunky old Polaroid camera and snaps a picture of Taekwoon before he can complain. Taekwoon tries his hardest to seem happy, and even though he is, he just… can't show it. He tries a tight smile, but Hongbin just makes a face.

Taekwoon sighs. Hongbin is so beautiful when he smiles—it makes Taekwoon envious. Taekwoon wishes he could smile like Hongbin. He also wishes he could envelop Hongbin's entire being into his own and love him for eternity with his face buried in Hongbin's soft hair, like how they sleep together from time to time. Wrapped in the safety of each other's arms, sharing breath and kisses and gentle warmth. Taekwoon props his chin in his hand, intently studying Hongbin's face. Hongbin's smile wilts just a little, enough for his dimple to disappear, as he replaces his Polaroid in his bag.

"Taekwoon," Hongbin sighs. His voice is tired, but he's still smiling. "Do you really love me?"

Taekwoon scoffs. "Of course,"

Hongbin's smile disappears completely, then reappears. "Remember when we first met?" Taekwoon nods. "It was my first day of college. You helped me find my classroom for cinematography."

"You tripped on the threshold, and when I helped you up, your hands were shaking," Taekwoon continues. Hongbin's eyes crinkle at the corners. "You were wearing a grey blazer that day."

Hongbin chuckles. "You really do remember," he murmurs, fidgeting with the ends of his wooden chopsticks resting on the edge of his plate of food.

"How could I forget," It's barely noticeable, but Taekwoon senses a change in Hongbin's aura. It's unsettling, but Taekwoon chooses to ignore it. He sips at his ice water.

Hongbin's quieter until the check comes, and they pay and head for the door, Taekwoon grabbing his umbrella from the stand in the lobby. "Is it okay if I drive the Fiat?" Hongbin asks as Taekwoon opens the umbrella.

"Sure," Taekwoon says, passing Hongbin the keys.

They get in the car and Hongbin turns on the ignition, backing the car out of the parking lot. His smile's almost faded completely, but Taekwoon can still see it out of the corner of his eye. They drive in silence for a bit, until Hongbin slows to stop at a red light at a desolate intersection, farmland on all sides of them. There aren't any cars coming, but Hongbin presses on the brakes and waits for the light.

He turns to Taekwoon, and his face is pained. "How come it never shows that you love me? How come you never show it?" Hongbin's voice is pleading—it breaks Taekwoon's heart.

Taekwoon folds his hands nervously in his lap. "It's difficult, Hongbin. I'm trying."

Hongbin turns his head to look at the road again. The light is green now, but Hongbin doesn't budge. "Can't you try harder?" He presses, and there's a shade of anger over his voice. "We've been together for… eight months, now. And never once have I felt that you truly love me."

"I really love you, Hongbin. Honestly." Now it's Taekwoon's turn to plead with his voice. "Don't you believe me?"

Hongbin grips the steering wheel, and Taekwoon can tell his hands are shaking violently. Hongbin's eyes are fixated on the dark rain outside. He draws a long breath in. "I think we should break up," Hongbin mutters, and presses gently on the gas, the car easing forward.

It's an arrow through Taekwoon's heart. It tears through him and suddenly he finds himself blinded with white-hot anger. "What?" he barks, lunging for Hongbin's wrist.

Panicked, Hongbin slams on the brakes.

"You're being ridiculous, Hongbin, we can't break up." Taekwoon hisses.

Hongbin twists his wrist in Taekwoon's hand, struggling to free himself. "Taekwoon, let go! You're hurting me!" Hongbin shouts. His voice is shaking, too.

Taekwoon only squeezes harder, and Hongbin cries out. "You can't spring this on me. Not like this."

"Let go!" Hongbin screams. Frantically, he yanks his wrist from Taekwoon's hand. "I don't want to be with you if you're gonna be like this. You don't love me and you never have!" Hongbin's voice that Taekwoon loves so much booms and fills the entire car, and Taekwoon's heart crumbles into a million pieces.

Cautiously, he reaches out for Hongbin again, asking for forgiveness, and… it seems like he's glowing. Outlined in bright light.

Then it dawns on him.

As fast as he can, Taekwoon unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches for Hongbin, whose eyes are wide with sudden realization and fear. "NO!" Taekwoon roars, but his voice is drowned out by a loud crash.

The Fiat skids maybe ten meters, struck by a brand-new black Mercedes. Blue car glass showers down on Taekwoon as he's thrown back against the passenger side door before he's able to reach Hongbin. The crunch of metal is loud, and there's several unidentifiable cracks. Taekwoon can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he becomes hyperaware of Hongbin's form as it's violently tossed, thrown heavily towards Taekwoon then back against the destroyed door and shattered window as the car skids to a stop. Taekwoon's head snaps back against the window and he gasps—the last thing he sees before black blots out his vision is Hongbin slumping against the steering wheel, red blood dripping down his temple.

It's very dark when Taekwoon comes to, and all around him he can hear heavy rainfall. He blinks groggily, his head throbbing. Sluggishly, he reaches to touch the back of his aching head and comes away with crimson fingers. He hisses. His entire body aches, but it doesn't feel like any of his bones are broken—thank God. Groaning, Taekwoon sits up in his seat, broken glass falling off his shoulders and out of his hair. He blinks again, and his eyes fall on Hongbin.

Taekwoon's heart stops beating. Hongbin is limp against the steering wheel, unmoving, looking broken and quite… dead. Taekwoon's mind breaks into a panic. Frantically, he looks outside the car for the other driver, wondering if they need help too or if they could help at all, but there's no one. The bastards left them. Taekwoon cusses under his breath and feels tears well in the corners of his eyes. It can't end like this, Hongbin can't die, he can't, he—"Hey," Taekwoon gasps, reaching out and tapping Hongbin's shoulder. Hongbin doesn't budge, and Taekwoon chokes on a sob, hysteria rising in his throat like bile. Desperately, Taekwoon throws open his door with some difficulty and steps into the pouring rain. He slips in a small puddle and the hiss of the rain on the asphalt which is usually such a comforting sound makes Taekwoon want to vomit. Water drips into his eyes as he struggles to pull open the crushed door. In his haste, the door flies off its hinges and Taekwoon tosses it aside, leaning into the car and wrapping an arm around Hongbin's shoulders. "Hongbin," he whispers, giving Hongbin a light shake. Don't touch him!, his subconscious snaps and Taekwoon immediately pulls his arms away. Hongbin groans lightly, and Taekwoon is relieved to hear it. He's hurt, , call 911.

Fumbling with wet and bloody hands, Taekwoon struggles to get his phone out of his jeans pocket and tap the right numbers into the dialer. A kind woman answers and in a quaking voice, Taekwoon explains what's happened. After he hangs up, the phone slips from his grip and tumbles to the ground. Taekwoon's knees go weak and his head goes light and suddenly he too finds himself on the asphalt, crumpled in a destroyed heap.