from me to you. → kth | ✓

25.

chapter twenty-five: cry

"WE HAVE GATHERED here today to pay our respects, our tributes and moreover our gentility to a man who was lost to the violence of this cruel world."

The raspy voice of the funeral director eventually fades out and into the rest of the world as I stand near the six-foot-deep hole where Yoongi's casket is soon to be buried. It's painful, it is, but I can't help but feel some sort of anger.

Not too far from me stands both of his parents. The two parents who didn't support his career simply because of their own opinions. Now, their son is dead, yet they both seem indifferent. At least his dad does. His mother is weeping so excessively, it's obvious she couldn't care less.

I scoff, forcing a smile when they eventually look in my direction. Out of his two parents, I can tell he looks the most like his father. They share the same cat-like eyes, full cheeks, pale skin and flat nose. Tears start to line my eyes again and I blink them away alongside ignoring the burning sensation.

The section of the funeral is soon done and over with and everyone disperses. To my surprise, about thirty people managed to attend, so either he had a very private lifestyle or he had some buddies he never told me about.

I take it upon myself to see everyone out and the last ones left are his parents. His father gives me a small nod, but his mother turns her chin up and shoots me a sneer.

"It's people like you who are the reason my son is dead?"

"Son?" I return. "Or some stranger you disowned because of your issues. Here you are talking to me like we've met before when you're supposed to be ashamed of yourself. Your son wouldn't be dead had you supported him!"

"Support? Why, support was all he had up until that point!" She shrieks. "I sent him to the best school Korea has to offer, I gave him enough money when he needed it and what does he do? Turn his back and spend it on his 'art'. Now his little dream has to lead to his demise!"

This woman is making me feel physically ill. "I don't think you've got anyone else to blame but your own self, Mrs Min. I suggest you and your husband have a safe journey. One that will never allow you and I to cross paths ever again."

"Do I hope so!" She mutters, latching onto her husband. "With the sort of family you have, I wouldn't blame you for being such a rude, disrespectful, inconsiderate little witch."

"At least I cared more about him than his own parents!" I yell.

It startles her and she gasps while her husband only stares at me. Not menacingly but instead with the soft gaze of pity.

I excuse myself, ashamed of my outburst, and walk into the church. Taehyung and Jaebeom are calling after me, but I don't wish to see anybody at this moment. Right now, I just want to be left alone.

I sit behind the stand of the altar so that I'm invisible to everyone. I tuck my dress under my bottom and sit with my knees up as I go through my phone. A small, sad smile finds its way to my face when I look at the recent videos I took, but a particular one grabs my attention.

It's a video of him and me when I decided to bake him a small, personal birthday cake. He didn't tell me his birthday was that day, in fact, i found out thanks to Yeri. He was in a slump and while he didn't ever tell me why he was so sad, he managed to put a smile on for me, just so we could make the most of our time together.

'Yoongi, put my phone down. I didn't even give you permission to use it! That's theft and it's punishable by law.'

He rolls his eyes. 'Everything is punishable by law with you, Aera. you're so uptight, you need to learn to relax. I know a good doctor...'

'You're disgusting.'

'It's what keeps the ladies. You should learn to have my aura. It works, trust me.'

'How are you so sure?'

He pauses, the camera still in the palm of his hand. The view is of the bottom of his jaw. 'It worked with you, didn't it?'

I'd seemingly disregarded the comment, focusing on icing the cake and stopping him from digging his finger into it. I would repeatedly slap his hand away and soon, the unnoticed look a mere hurt on his face swapped out with laughter.

I didn't notice it then and it's haunting me now. I switch my phone off and finally let myself take a deep breath of the air around me. It soon becomes unsteady breathing when I start to cry.

I've been holding on for so long. I don't even know what's what. Work is out of control and so it is all around me. I see him everywhere I go. On the streets when I'm crossing the road, I see him leaning against the cafe car park having a smoke, then I blink and he's gone. The same when I visit the cafe itself. His scent still lingers when I'm alone and while it's comforting, it's scary. This whole thing makes me want to scream. I want help, but I feel like it won't work. I feel like no one would understand.

He was so genuine. He was cheerful, a little ray of sunshine in my day even when he's being annoying. I even stopped working at the office because I'd see him sitting on one of the sofas, legs crossed as he smiles at me. It makes my heart ache and I want to make it stop. I want it all to just go away.

Some days, I see him in my dreams too. They always make me smile. I see him painting in a field, dressed in all white with a wreath of flowers around his neck. He'd beckoned for me to come over, but once I run over, feeling the breeze around me and the warm soil under my bare feet, I'd see his corpse with gaping bullet wounds and that laceration in his neck.

I wipe my eyes, blink twice and look up. I can see him again, leaning against the wall with arms folded and a small smile on his face.

"I wish you wouldn't cry so much." He says.

I stand and walk over, letting myself receive his embrace. His skin is soft, his body is warm and his scent once again engulfs me as he holds me close.