I frowned as I aid my lover into the house. Five years I had watched my friend turned lover battle with his drug addiction. Now, in hopes of fixing the problem before it became to late, I had invited the older to live with me.

“Sungmin hyung, do you want anything to drink or eat?” I ask as I eye my friend. Bandages covered his fingers, small cuts lined his mouth, and his eyes were blood shot. Silence met me as my lover looked up at me, pale and shaky as his body began the withdrawal symptoms the doctor had warned about. I move to cup his face in slight fear and worry, before pulling him close to my chest and holding him, rocking us back and forth as I whisper how much I love him.

I took Sungmin to my room, placing him on the bed so he could lie down and rest. I was worried he would do something stupid, I just was not prepared for what would happen. Sungmin hyung, had traded everything he had for suffering alone as I watched him steal and lie before my eyes. No matter what I did, everyday was the same. I was ignored and the weeks became months, and the less I would see him.

Three months, he had gone missing, and it was not until a cold winter’s night outside a bar, that I found him sitting alone in an alley covered in rags and smelling of drugs and piss. His body was frail and pale, sickly looking as his once beautiful raven hair was now oily and long reaching past his shoulders. I shake my head moving to kneel before him examining his burnt fingertips and the way his body shook. I wanted to believe it was the cold that had him shivering, but judging by his bloodshot eyes, I would be wrong.

“What have you done now hyung?” I whisper before helping him back to my house.
For three days, he remained on my couch not sleeping, not eating. I let him stay with me for as long as he needed a place to rest. As weeks past, I noticed my things begin to go missing yet I pretended to not notice allowing him to feed his need for drugs. What else could I do? I fought with him, we yelled and argued. Fear filled me one night when I came home to find him sitting with a stolen gun to his head silently debating firing the weapon or not. It took half the night before he put the gun away.

Finally, I got him into rehab, I even attended with him so he could have support. To prove to him what I was willing to do for him. It was working, at least, I thought it was. He seemed clean for the first five years, I had managed to get us to a point of being looked at as a normal couple, and not just a lover trying to keep his druggie boyfriend from overdosing. Yes, some nights the two of us were in the bathroom until dawn as he got sick from using needles and contracting AIDS, but that was normal, at least it was for us.

Looking back, I think I had deluded myself into thinking we were alright, I had begun to ignore his odd habits of late night munchies and stuff. Lee Sungmin was sick, and I had become sick with him. Several times, near the end of our personal hell, I had found the drugs hidden in various places. Seen the wide eyed look in his face yet believed the half lies he told me.

It was not until late one night when Sungmin stumbled into bed holding a knife, that real fear of him overcame me. Was he going to kill me? Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as I stared wide eyed and waiting, watching to see what his next move would be. He didn’t hear my screams of his name, nor did he see my tears. His eyes were glazed over, the smell of drugs heavy on him as he moved to sit beside me on the bed. I couldn’t speak, my lips moving but no sound coming out, my body frozen and unable to move. If I had had the power to do any of those simple tasks, could I have prevented what was to happen next? Would it had saved me the horror of my nightmares at the present? The glint of the blade, the smell of his blood, and the way his lifeless body slumped into my lap that night haunt me to this day.

No, that is the answer. Even if I had been able to say something, to make him stop, I would still be haunted by the sight of him that night. That last final image of him that would forever be in my mind. After the police had found us, me sitting in bed wide eyed and scared, shivering and covered in blood, I had been taken to a new home.

“And Mr. Kim, have the medicines been working well for you?” the man in white asked, his hair a warm brown matching his eyes as I looked up into them.

“I need alcohol.” I reply wringing my hands together as I fidget in my seat. Alcohol helped the memories go away.

“We already discussed why you couldn’t have any.” the doctor replied gently. I look at my hands and back up to the doctors face.

“Sungmin hyung, please, just one more bottle.” I beg as Sungmin stands up and walks towards me taking me in his arms and calming me from my dawning anxiety attack.

“Ryeowook, you are hallucinating again. My name is Dr. Cho, Cho Kyuhyun remember? Do I need to call Dr. Yesung in here again?” Kyuhyun asks gently as I shake my head. My hands shook as I calmed down enough for him to let me leave the room and return to my own quarters. When I reached the safety of my new room, I frowned at my reflection in the mirror. Was this what I had left of Sungmin, was this what he had wanted? Was my insanity worth all this, just so he could get high?

“And now, you’ve gone and died.” I hiss before falling to the bed.