His name was Junmyeon Kim, but I called him Suho sometimes hyung, other times Suho-hyung.

We were inseparable. Well, almost.

There were always differences between us which would make the rift between us wider, whether it was our personalities, our views, or our different circle of friends (or lack, thereof). We could go weeks without talking to each other, but one way or another, we could always make that rift smaller.

However this time, although there wasn’t a disagreement, we wouldn’t be able to make that rift smaller. It was impossible. 

He was buried 6ft underground and I still stood with the living.