I rubbed my aching forehead after it collided with the bunk dangerously close above me. I stare at my sweaty palms, and the state of my shivering body. I bite my lip to keep it from quivering, and tighten my jaw to keep myself from screaming out loud. Another bad dream—the exact same one.

Seeing him die all over again. Every. Single. Night. Watching his heart beat stop on the monitor, and a vague beep ringing in my ears. I just can’t let him go.

I slide my hand on the bedside table and feel for the vague shape of my phone in the pitch black darkness. I don’t want to turn on the lights right now. The lights is just something that blinds me. The light only exaggerates the darkness.

I finally take the phone and fumble it in my hands, tapping my shaking fingers to dial his number. I need to call him, now.
“Ne? (Yes?)” his sleepy voice could be heard on the other side of the phone.
The tightness in my chest disappears the second I hear his voice, even if it’s raspy.
“Luhan, mianhe (sorry)... I was scared again.” I confessed to him.

I can hear the sorrow in the tone of his voice.
“It’s okay, you can come visit me now, since I’m awake.” he said.
“Okay,” I say before hanging up.

I hastily grab an oversized hoodie from the shelves which causes the rest of my clothes to come piling down like an avalanche. They drop onto the floor in front of my toes. It doesn’t matter, I don’t care. I just need to see his face. Slipping my hoodie on, I messily tie my knotted hair into a loose bun, and grab the keys before locking the door behind me.

Uneasiness is all I can feel. The low hum of the running vehicle and distant honking of traffic cars only adds to my anxiety. The clattering of plates and the loud, collected conversations of strangers drown my thoughts as I walk quietly past shops.

A young girl, a child, cries in the middle of the pathway as everyone swerves around her, ignoring how lost she seems. I swerve around her too, because I can’t help. How can a lost person help another lost person?

I puff my cheeks as I slide open the door into the hospital room. The sign reads ‘Xi Lu Han’. Nervously, I fiddle with the sleeve of my hoodie as I stare at the back of Luhan’s head.
“I’m here,” I tell him.
“I know,” he replies quickly, still gazing into the window.
There’s nothing to see out there. Just the fake lights which illuminate the lively city. Nothing to see out there.

“Bad dream?” he asks me.
I nod my head in reply, not saying anything more, because I already know he knows the answer to that question.
“Come,” he says quietly, and I sit on the chair next to his bed.
His hair is cleanly shaved, and his lips are chaffed. The colour on his face is pale.  

“I need to tell you something,” he says with a gentle expression on his face.
He seems sad, yet not. Not something that can be explained with merely using words.
“Today. It’s today,” he says slowly, looking straight into my eyes.
If his bitter smile wasn’t enough to kill me, then his death is.

“No, you’re going to survive this cancer. You’re not going to die. Not today, not ever.” I try to say firmly, but my voice catches at the end of my sentence.
“I know it’s today...” he says even slower, his moist eyes reflecting the light of the lampshade beside him.
My tears threaten to break. I grit my teeth and clench my fist as the warm tears roll down my hot cheeks.

He takes my tight hands and holds it. Even the warmth in his palms is no longer there. I remember when he was smiling under the warmth of the sun—when he was still healthy. When cancerous cells did not plague his body. He smiled when I did, he flirted with me with his seductive voice, he laughed when I rejected him, he hugged me when I tried to run away, he loved me when I fell for him. He was warm during that time, and his smiles was filled with a joy that the world could never truly contain. It was too beautiful.

The heart monitor beeps slowly, and he smiles sadly. He wipes the tears from my face and presses his lips against my own.
“I love you,” he whispers into my ear.
“I love you more... Don’t leave me... Don’t...” you say, your eyes closed shut to prevent your tears from falling any longer.
Just as you open your eyes, you can feel the pressure on your hand release. As he takes his last raspy breath, he smiles, and the monitor beeps without a stop. His heart has stopped.

That was the limit to human language. It can never truly express love, hate, sadness, sorrow, grief, anger, jealously—it can never really explain anything. Just as how I cannot describe colour to a blind person, I cannot explain anything. Just words. It’s all just words. I didn’t tell him how much I truly love him—I couldn’t.