Promised One | BEOMJUN

彡 he stayed

Don't Leave And Tell Me You Love Me

[ Trigger Warning: Depression, suicide, and implicit description of illnesses. ]

彡

Yeonjun had witnessed his lover die with his own naked eyes.

Right there, so close, yet it felt like the other jumped right into a bottomless abyss that Yeonjun could never reach. The boy, Beomgyu, had always been the one whom he loved and cherished. A lot.

And Yeonjun could still remember, he could still feel just how warm Beomgyu's hands were. He could still picture the beaming smile on his face. He could still hear that youthful laugh that kept him going. Yeonjun could still see, hear, and feel it all like a rough wind caressing his skin on top of a lonely mountain. Beomgyu's lips were soft against his, gentle, a little desperate in necessity too. Both were losers in a game, and that was what they always had in common. The way there were dead stars on the sides of Beomgyu's lips, but there was hope in his eyes. The way he'd pull himself closer to Yeonjun's warmth every time Yeonjun's thumb would brush against his.

Like every single part of his skin was made for Beomgyu to hold and touch. As if they would never, ever be worthy if Beomgyu had not kissed them with roses. There were thorns, it stung, but Yeonjun held him close anyway.

Still.

The lingering longing and hopefulness were there. The neverending wishful thoughts came flooding his mind, and Yeonjun couldn't dry them. No, not when he could still remember them. No, not when Yeonjun still loved him.

But witnessing your lover die was never something Yeonjun wanted. Never thought of. Never expected. Then again, life was full of surprises — and Yeonjun hated those. He hated surprises. Most especially when death was the surprise that had been given to him.

And death leaves a heartache no one can ever heal.

Time can heal all that's broken? Yeonjun wanted to laugh.

Five years. It's been five years but the grief, the regret, the horrifying details still lived inside his body. Like a broken record that kept playing and playing and playing inside his mind which kept reminding him of how insensitive, stupid, and undeserving he really was of Beomgyu's existence.

"Beomgyu," Yeonjun could hear his own voice cracking and lacking in air. He walked out, saw many people, yet none of them looked like his home.

Yeonjun's gaze rose up to the sky; he squinted his eyes; he closed them. A sharp breath. He balled his hands. There was an unsettling feeling in the pits of his stomach — it's been there for years and years.

This day felt awfully familiar.

"Hyung," Yeonjun hastily turned to his side, "Jjuni Hyung," Yeonjun finally heard that cry. The sound that Beomgyu tried to tone down with his hands as they stayed lying on the tight bed.

Yeonjun never noticed.

And there, Yeonjun saw Beomgyu standing a few feet away from him. Doe eyes staring at him, begging and pleading for Yeonjun to not mess this up. Yeonjun would try so terribly hard.

"Beom—"

No, Beomgyu ran.

On impulse, Yeonjun started to run after him. His breathing was loud yet he sounded so breathless. His bangs were scattered all over his forehead, sticking and bouncing every now and then. People were looking, eyeing the boy who looked like he was running for his life.