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It's surprisingly gloomy for a summer day in Seoul. When the skies are grey like those, with clouds adorning the vast space, it tended to rain heavy. But it seemed like nothing was coming, and everything was just was. There was a little wind blowing, but above all, it's murky.
"It's sort of weird today," said Kai. "I swear I read the weather forecast and it said it's going to be sunny without any chance of rain at all. Even the temperature foretold is supposed to be somewhere around thirty degrees Celcius." He frowned and sighed as he slipped his phone into his pocket.
"I know right? It's just sort of dark all of a sudden when it's pretty bright this dawn," chimed in Taehyun, who was driving beside Kai. They were both headed towards the radio station where Yeonjun would be having his interview. It's their job as managers, after all, to take their idol safely and efficiently. "I think the temperature's dropping to below sixteen now."
Yeonjun didn't say a word. He only looked out the car window, passing by the blurring buildings and the barely filled streets as people seemed to seek shelter to avoid the inevitable wind. He did listen to the conversations of his managers, but his head was too heavy to respond, as he leaned on the back of his seat. The music playing in the background didn't even soothe him at all.
"By the way, we have a bit of a break—like four hours—between your radio interview and your next schedule which is your advertisement shoot this evening," informed Kai. He looked back at the middle passenger's seat. "Is there anywhere you want to visit during that time?"
The offer didn't sound tempting. But then Yeonjun tasted bitter on his tongue. Of course, it was gloomy and he had a bit of time to fit in. "It's his passing's anniversary," he mumbled. His statement was incoherent as it slipped out of his lips while he stared to the abyss.
"Oh." Kai gulped. That's all he could say anyways. He looked at Taehyun who looked back at him with genuine concern in his eyes.
"Do you... want to visit his resting place?" asked Taehyun, timidly. It was quite a sensitive topic to bring up, so he had to approach it carefully. He gripped his steering wheel a little tight. "It's only ten minutes from where the shoot's going to be on."
The brunette didn't answer for a while. His mind was occupied with how much he missed Soobin suddenly, but there was nothing he could do about it. Then, "Okay. We can do that."
The ride to the station felt a little quieter afterwards.
Yeonjun's amazing when he's on air. With a little bit of make up and astonishingly convincing acting skills, he sounded just as happy as he normally would. He spoke to the mic with quite the professionalism he always brought. "I must say, Beomgyu, this album will bring out so many sides of me that I have never showed before."
"It's obvious we can trust you with bringing new personas of you, Yeonjun," replied Beomgyu, the host who was also a well known idol, cheerfully. "You're one of the few artists who can bring out such experimental vibes and just rock with it." He chuckled, albeit a little stiffly. When he read the next question, he furrowed his brows a bit, then bit his lips. He cleared his throat nervously. "Though, however, I must ask who's your biggest inspiration for this album? I mean, every artist—I'm one of them—has a muse."
"Well, Beomgyu's muse is totally not a game character, but let's move on," added Yunjin, Beomgyu's host partner, trying to lighten up the mood. She knew it was quite the heavy topic, judging by the look from Yeonjun's gaze. She glared a little at Beomgyu, but Beomgyu only shrugged a little towards her. "But it doesn't have to be a 'who,' right? For me, it's more of a 'what'—like whenever I write lyrics for my group, it's mostly inspired by the places we visit and how it makes me feel, so I can capture them and encapsulate it in songs. What about you, Yeonjun?"
The brunette just huffed dryly, but there was no humor in his tone. "There is... someone," he answered. "He means the world to me. He's my everything, basically." Yeonjun breathed deeply, though it didn't help with the choking in his throat, whatever was lodged in it was rooted and growing from his lungs. "This album is dedicated to him. I want to keep on reminiscing him and continue the story we can never continue. I hope the listeners of this album can understand how I feel through my artwork."
Yeonjun knew there was no point on hiding when he passed. So, he had come out as gay and married. But it's over with and his beloved was long gone, so what was left was regret.
At that point, Yeonjun's management couldn't do anything anyways. It's not like they could control stubborn Yeonjun, let alone the unstoppable force he became once he was an emotional wreck. So, the people had known the truth, and regardless of the criticism he had to face, Yeonjun grieved of his sliced heart, his melancholy open to the public that mocked him.
The man forced out a smile.
"That's beautiful," commented Yunjin as she grinned widely, purely genuine, not just to help Yeonjun to market and promote his work to be streamed and bought. "I think whoever your muse is very lucky to be written into something to be remembered for the rest of the time being." She looked at Yeonjun with a strange gaze that was meant to try to comfort the latter through the distance between them.
Beomgyu nodded, latched on his swiveling chair, as if the audience could see how he reacted well towards Yunjin's comments on Yeonjun's brief explanation. "It truly is."
It's burnt in Yeonjun's memories. It was never a vague shadow blur of what happened. No, everything was vivid, still.
He could still smell the buttery toast scent lingering on his husband's shirt, the remnants of the only breakfast he could make. He could still feel the way the cotton fabric of his husband's shirt wrapped against the skin, losing its warmth as it absorbed Yeonjun's tears. He could still hear the hollowness in his husband's chest, and soon enough he felt his own ribs mimicking the emptiness. He still remembered the pitch black darkness when he forced shut his eyes, unable to open them to face the reality. Salt on his tongue, he couldn't get the bitterness away for months.
The curtains of the hospital room was blue, as if shielding the room from the grey skies outside, but somehow only making the air feel more suffocating. Yeonjun sat by the window as he held his husband's hand, fingers interlaced on the cold bare skin, hoping it wasn't true. He was sure his husband was still laughing with him that morning, cracking jokes in the kitchen like how it usually was. But that afternoon, his husband's fingers became colder and turned the shade of the curtains. When he was lost forever, Yeonjun knew his life was over with too.
Yeonjun still could recall the way the doctors announced his husband's death, an echo ringing in his ears as he begged the universe to bring him back. The dull ache that continued to grow in him, carried with every breath he took. Yeonjun could still remember how everything changed since that day and how he could no longer see the world in colors.
Yeonjun wished he could turn back time.
"Please call us if you need anything," said Taehyun.
"We'll wait here," added Kai. "We'll give you some space."
The brunette nodded as he left his managers in the car. His hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket, he walked away from the parking space. At that point, he was striding away absentmindedly with his blank eyes.
The walk to his husband's grave wasn't far. The path he took was a route his legs had memorized, led by a call from his husband's unbeating heart. Yet then, every step he took was heavy and it grew heftier with each distance closed.
It was quiet then. There was a stone with a name Yeonjun used to call so fondly every morning, and with longing every night. It was clean and it still smelled like roses, the very ones Yeonjun laid on a week prior. As he knelt down, Yeonjun's hands gripped the stone, head laid on the coldness, trying to stop the budding tears on the corner of his eyes.
"Soobin." Yeonjun sighed, exhausted. "You really left me before we even got to our anniversary dinner, huh?" He huffed, humorlessly. His whole body felt like it was taking sharp pain from everywhere, like he was being stabbed. "On Valentine's day too." He snorted, unhappy. "I'd usually be able to tell you about what happened today first, but everything seems to revolve around you today and I don't think I have anything to say, but– I miss you."
Then, the cries couldn't be held back anymore. Yeonjun had lost everything, was he not allowed to grief? Had he not suffered enough? He lost his home, his world, his entire worth of living, so was he not allowed to tear? He missed Soobin, through and through. Why should he submit to the constrains anymore?
Sometimes, Yeonjun wished the world wasn't so cruel that he could love Soobin out loud before the time took him without a warning. Sometimes, Yeonjun wished Soobin had a little bit more time they could spend with just the two of them, to truly live carelessly without a doubt and without fear. Sometimes, Yeonjun wished that he was the one being taken away instead, so he needed not to live with the loneliness Soobin left him with.
Tears soaked through the stone, but Yeonjun let it be anyways. Let the roses be watered was what he thought of. At least, he'd make a life, even though he didn't feel like he was anymore when his lifeline was gone.
It started to rain. The growling thunders signed, but the lightnings didn't give enough time for Yeonjun to run from the clouds. But it's not like Yeonjun was thinking of going away either.
When the drizzle of water hit him, Yeonjun couldn't care less. He just needed more time to hug Soobin and if he couldn't pull the man in his embrace anymore, he'd at least not live out of regret by not holding the headstone a little longer, imagining it was Soobin breathing onto his chest like he'd usually do. He couldn't care if he had to wash his hoodie over and over again because of the mud, or if he'd come home sick with a flu and a sore throat, because all he wanted was to have Soobin in his arms again. Was it too much to ask?
His sobs tore out of his lips, the same rhythm as how the rain was falling on the ground. He wished he was hugging Soobin instead, smelling the whiff of his shampoo and not the earthy smell of the stone. Yeonjun felt no more need to breathe.
"Yeonjun."
When the warm voice came out to call out Yeonjun's name, a shadow appeared. It covered Yeonjun with an umbrella, protecting the man from the soaking rain. Suddenly, Yeonjun didn't feel so vulnerable, so exposed anymore, but the familiarity of the honey-like voice scared him.
"Chubs."
It took everything in Yeonjun to not bury himself right at the word that reached his ears. Instead, he looked up slowly, mindlessly hoping of if his dreams would come true, even when he knew it wouldn't. But, it did. "Chubs?"
Yeonjun swore he was hallucinating. There was no way the man he kept on waiting for was standing right there before him, with a soft smile drawn on his face, one hand holding an umbrella and the other reaching out towards Yeonjun. And said man looked just the way he was when he passed, in his comfortable white t-shirt, and his sweatpants, both covered in his coat. And that that man looked as beautiful as ever, a faint glow on the top of his swooped black hair. Yeonjun couldn't believe his eyes.
"My love," answered Soobin. "My pretty Yeonjun. You missed me so bad, huh?"
Slowly, Yeonjun's fingers reached to touch Soobin's fingertips. His careful motions led him to feel Soobin's flesh, and he could wrap his hand around Soobin, the very hand he yearned to clasp every single night for months. "Soobin."
But Yeonjun only broke down. The gentleness in Soobin's tone as he crouched down to soothe Yeonjun only worsened his state. When Soobin's grip on his hand grew firmer, he was certain that it wasn't an illusion, but the feelings he couldn't quite articulate still pushed his tears out and ripped his chest to cry on.
"Oh, dearest," said Soobin, tenderly. His thumb rubbed circles on Yeonjun's knuckle, a dance only he knew to help Yeonjun to stop crying.
"No, you're not- you're not real," denied Yeonjun, stammering. Even when Soobin was holding him and coaxing him out of his sadness, a part of him was still in disbelief. "Soobin, you've passed. This is your-" He looked at Soobin's eyes, breathless. He gulped. "You're not my Soobin. This is Soobin's grave. My love is dead. I'm alone. Please... please don’t do this to me.” His voice cracked on the last word as he dropped his head down the tombstone again.
Yeonjun tried to pull his hand away, but Soobin only held it more firmly—warm, solid, achingly familiar. Not the cold memory Yeonjun had been clutching for months. Not the hollow dream that always dissolved when he woke up. It was real.
"Chubs," murmured Soobin. "Yeonjunnie, please listen to me." When Yeonjun looked back up, Soobin’s expression softened, eyes shining with something that looked painfully like the adoration he had always carried within him. "Dearest, I'm here now."
The rain grew louder, drumming steadily against the umbrella, against the leaves, against the headstone Yeonjun was still half-collapsed over.
"Why are you here?" Yeonjun's question was so faint, it was almost unheard of amidst the storm. What he meant was what are you doing here to extend my suffering? What he truly meant was are you here only to leave me with more scars? What he wanted to say was I missed you and I can't bear breathing with every second passing without you.
Soobin shifted closer, close enough that Yeonjun could see every tiny detail he had memorized a thousand times over—the faint mole near his lip, the soft curve of his eyes, the familiar crease between his brows when he was worried. "I haven't said goodbye properly, haven't I?" He huffed dryly. His hand moved to tuck Yeonjun's hair behind his ear, then hovered for a moment, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed—before it finally came to rest against Yeonjun’s cheek.
"And I don't think I can leave you like this, not when you spend every passing day visiting my grave and tell me about your day like I'm still around, before you drop down and cry again without sparing yourself some time to rest." Soobin's thumb brushed away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling on Yeonjun's face. "I need you to move on, Yeonjun. You've still got more life ahead of you and-"
"But I don't want to!" Yeonjun screamed, borderline thundering along the real thunders in the sky. "I don't want to live a life where you don't exist!" His sobs broke out again. "I don't want to keep on trying like some kind of fool masking every single day with a huge smile on my face while I lie to myself that I'm alright, that I'm fine without you, when even breathing becomes such a chore and opening my eyes to see a world without you becomes such a hassle."
Yeonjun bit his quivering lips. "I don't want to stay where I don't belong, to a place so strange I couldn't call home because you're not there." His entire body shook to its core. His stomach dropped. He could feel his voice trembling even worse. "I don't want to keep on telling myself to- god, don't you think I've tried to move on?" He shut his eyes for a brief moment before he opened them again to face Soobin. "I tried, Soobin. I failed every time, because I know I've spend all my love on you and there's no way I can love someone else like I did- no, I still do for you."
"So, please," begged Yeonjun. "Please don't tell me you came back just to tell me to move on and say that this is just a dream, because if it is, then I'll find my way back here and I'll seek for you again and again until I can follow you to the ends of the earth."
Soobin's gaze shuddered. It was like a wall crumbling down from the ivies taking root after so long. He pursed his lips. "Yeonjun, you don't know what you're asking for."
The brunette's hands reached Soobin's face. "Yes, I do," he replied. It was a vow to him; an oath it was. Spoken clear without a mumble, Yeonjun meant every word. He wanted to follow Soobin, even if it would cost him the rest of his time being. He didn't need a life to live, but with Soobin's presence, he believed to be able to live even in death. "I'm selfish and I'm greedy. And I need you."
The smile on Soobin's face faltered. He blinked. "Then, follow me."
It was like time stopped moving for an abrupt moment. Yeonjun swore he could hear a pin drop when it happened. The distance between them finally disappeared. When Soobin's lips collided against his, Yeonjun could feel everything so clear.
Soobin kissed Yeonjun. He did it like he was driven with hunger, savoring every single taste of Yeonjun without restrain. He kissed Yeonjun in a way he hadn't done in so long, in the time he borrowed. He kissed Yeonjun with every single drop of his love pouring, not wanting to waste it unused on Yeonjun.
And Yeonjun reciprocated. Yeonjun cupped Soobin's face and absorbed the delicacy of Soobin's lips, feeling every bizarrely intense commotion growling in him, a grueling ache to be filled. He chased Soobin in a never ending want, pressing his mouth against Soobin's to taste the life in him once again. He deserved it. He deserved to kiss Soobin with every crushed part of his soul.
When they finally came into a halt, Soobin's forehead rested against Yeonjun's temple. They stayed like that for a while, until Soobin's umbrella dissipated in thin air. And Soobin's hands reached Yeonjun's cheeks.
"Come with me."
Yeonjun stood up, but he felt light. When he realized there was a lifeless body with tear stained cheeks on Soobin's tombstone, he smiled. Instead, he looked away and chose to hold Soobin's hand. It no longer felt torturous to him. "With you," he repeated.
Soobin nodded.
With Soobin there with him, Yeonjun felt free. He no longer needed to hope for what he couldn't and at last, he was reunited with the only one he wanted to spend the rest of his eternity with. There was no more worry for him left to have and no more pressure for him left to succumb to. With Soobin, Yeonjun was content.
And when they walked into the light, darkness no longer could follow them.
The rain stopped.