It’s pure boredom that brings it on, really, as you lie down atop your bed, hands folded across your stomach. You look up at the ceiling absently, your mind picking up random shreds of thought until finally you wonder what life would be like if you were dead.

Of course, that in itself is extremely ironic, but one tends to wonder these things on occasion, even if there’s no suicidal intent behind it.

At that moment, the door opens, and Himchan, your boyfriend of just over two years walks in and stands in the doorway, staring at you.

"What are you doing?" he asks, never one to skirt around his thoughts.

"Just wondering," you reply, tone neutral, because Himchan is a worrywart and you don’t want him to lose sleep over trivial matters.

He frowns slightly, almost imperceptibly (because his face does tend to look rather angry most of the time, but through no fault of his own), and he lies beside you, mimicking your pose.

"Feels like I’m in a coffin," he mutters, but the words make your body tense and he can feel the slight movement of your shoulder next to his.

"What," he says, his voice flat, "please don’t tell ne you’re imagining yourself dead."

And for some reason, the words make you tear up, even though there’s really no good reason for it.

"Baby, why?" he asks, turning to the side and running a hand through your hair.

"Because," you say, throat choked with tears, "in the grand scheme of things,