If there was one thing that Jongin absolutely hated, it was funerals. He hated the way everyone dressed in black, the air somber, thick with sorrow. He hated the dozens of bloodshot, empty eyes that stared blankly ahead during the procession. The way that nobody cried, as though showing sympathy, compassion or emotion was a sign of weakness.

But most of all, Jongin hated saying goodbye.

A life, so carelessly taken from this world. A life, so young, lost without following their dreams.

Showing emotion was not a sign of weakness, Jongin knew that. It was his way of coming to terms with his grief. It was his way of accepting the fate that he knew he could not change, reverse or substitute with his own life.

Balling his fists together, Jongin looked upon the open casket, his body trembling with anguish. Biting his bottom lip heavily, he focused on slowing his breaths. Extending a hand, he traced the smooth exterior, stained a deep cherry colour.

The casket seemed too simple to embody the man that it held. With an outward sigh, Jongin closed his eyes. He knew that soon, everyone would forget about this passing, that they would carry out their lives without a second thought of the man that lay before them. The grey veil of life had closed prematurely for him, and he would leave this place forgotten.

Turning away from the casket, Jongin swore under his breath. He did not want anyone to die for him. This never should have happened, if only he had not been so careless … If he had controlled his temper. If only he had not lost his temper at Kyungsoo, this wouldn’t have happened.

Jongin hated funerals.  He had seen too many in his short lifetime; too many people deserving of life pass before their time, whilst he continued to exist, against all odds.

Watching the blank expressions of the funeral procession as they said their final, insincere farewells, the people surrounding the casket filtered out of the funeral home, eager to surround the hearse, awaiting the casket’s final journey to its resting place.

Placing one foot numbly in front of the other, Jongin followed the casket as it was wheeled out of the funeral home, his head bowed in respect and hands clasped in front of him. The sky was overcast, sheets of freezing rain fell to the earth in an unharmonious rhythm. A fitting farewell to somebody so brave, Jongin thought. Even the sky wept at his departure.

As the hearse slowly pulled away from the funeral home and the crowd dispersed, Jongin found it harder and harder to control his breaths. With his feet fixed to the wet concrete ground, his soaking hair plastered across his face, Jongin stared after the hearse, silently farewelling his friend.

The heavy rain soaked through his suit jacket, his white shirt sticking to his skin, but Jongin did not care, nor did he lower his gaze. Clenching his trembling fists together, Jongin dug his nails into the palms of his hands. Tiny droplets of water ran down his cheeks and strangely enough, they tasted like salt.

“Farewell,” he breathed, bowing his head in respect once more. “Chanyeol.”

Exhausted, Jongin slumped into his armchair, dragging his fingertips through his still damp hair. He had pushed his armchair into the bedroom, so that he could keep a closer watch on Kyungsoo, terrified that he, too, might pass. And Jongin was not ready to lose him.

Closing his eyes, Jongin leaned back in his armchair and exhaled quietly. Kyungsoo had regained consciousness several times, but his body was long from recovered. He needed rest, and most of the day, he remained asleep.

“You will catch a cold if you are not careful.”

Cracking his eyes open, Jongin tilted his head to the side. “You’re awake,” he breathed. “Are you hungry?”

With a shake of his head, Kyungsoo lifted a heavily bandaged hand, extending it out to Jongin. “Something is bothering you,” he rasped, his voice still husky. “Is everything okay?”

 Breaking his gaze away from Kyungsoo, Jongin focused his attention towards the door of the bedroom and it took quite some time before he managed to find his voice once more.

“I said goodbye to Chanyeol today,” he said quietly. Wringing his fingers, Jongin allowed his shoulders to slump. “That’s three this week. Luhan and Sehun were put to rest on Monday, side by side. I’m sure that’s how they would  have liked to go. Baekhyun still hasn’t woken up.”

Kyungsoo felt his heart ache. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “They shouldn’t have – nobody should have.”

Jongin’s fist collided with the wall. “Don’t think I don’t know that,” he growled, his jaw clenched. “They died because of me. It’s my fault.”

“That’s not true,” Kyungsoo replied, his voice no more than a whisper. He didn’t like to see Jongin angry, but to blame himself for the death of his friends … “They died standing side by side with their friend – with you, Jongin. I don’t know much about them, but they followed you because they would rather stand with you and fight than watch you go alone. It was their choice. They died the way they wanted to, doing what they wanted – protecting you.”

“But they didn’t have to,” Jongin croaked, his voice and heart were breaking. “I didn’t want this.”

Exhaling quietly, Kyungsoo propped himself up on his elbows. “Come here,” he urged, watching as Jongin picked himself up from his armchair and perched on the corner of the bed.

Wincing as the unhealed skin on his arms and hands stretched, Kyungsoo wrapped his arms around Jongin comfortingly. “It’s okay,” he breathed. “It’s okay to cry if you want.”

And without hesitation, Jongin broke down, his body welcoming Kyungsoo’s embrace.

“Where are you going?” Jongin called as he watched Kyungsoo limp from the penthouse kitchen into the lounge, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Home,” Kyungsoo replied simply, offering him a small smile.

Home. That was the one word that Jongin had hoped he would never hear Kyungsoo say. He had lost some of his closest friends, and now he was going to lose Kyungsoo, too. With his eyes wide, Jongin got to his feet, closing the distance between them in a single stride.

“You can’t leave,” he said quickly, gesturing to the lone band aid on Kyungsoo’s brow. “You’ve not fully recovered yet.”

With a small chuckle, Kyungsoo stepped around Jongin. “I’m sure I can handle it,” he joked. Wrapping his hand around the doorknob, Kyungsoo hesitated. “Thank you, though,” he breathed. “Thank you for everything.”

Jongin stood, frozen in the middle of the penthouse lounge, watching as Kyungsoo closed the door behind him. What was he supposed to do now that Kyungsoo had gone? Jongin was alone. He was going to be alone forever. Long nights of solitude with only his thoughts for company; long days with his shadow as his only companion.

Chanyeol. Luhan. Sehun. They had all given their lives so that he might live. But, what was the point of living if he was alone?

Fumbling for the door handle, Jongin sprinted down the long hallway. “Kyungsoo!” he called, his heart racing. “Oh, please don’t let it be too late. Kyungsoo!”

“What?”

Jongin skidded to a halt at the entrance to the elevator. Kyungsoo stood next to the control panel, impatiently pressing the down arrow, his bag hanging loosely at his side. Wrapping his fingers around Kyungsoo’s wrist, Jongin pulled it gently away from the control panel. Another sharp tug and Kyungsoo was at his side.

“What?” Kyungsoo repeated, his eyes wide with confusion.

Lifting the bag from Kyungsoo’s shoulder, Jongin gestured to the hallway in which they had just come. “Let’s go,” he said simply. With his fingers still wrapped around Kyungsoo’s wrist, Jongin turned to walk away from the elevator, his body jerking to a stop when Kyungsoo refused to move.

“No,” Kyungsoo replied quietly. “You wanted me out of your sight and I respect that. I do not want to be a burden, I don’t want to get in your way anymore.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, Kyungsoo continued: “You told me to go home and I am.”

Shaking his head, Jongin wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist, unable to stop himself from smiling when Kyungsoo instinctively returned the gesture, burying his face into the others chest.  

“Don’t you see, Kyungsoo?” he breathed. “This is your home. You belong here. With me.” 

Consider this the epilogue of sorts.
The forced happily ever after.
The relationship is rushed (I'm aware of that) and I'm not happy with it, but eh.
I had originally planned for Kyungsoo to die,
but I guess I listened to the comments too much haha.
>u<

(The last paragraph has been removed in my attempt to
make the ending better/smoother)

Oh well, at least I finished something? 

Click here to read a Kaisoo fic with a less disappointing ending. (: