YEONGYU ONESHOTS

Never enough

Angst, sucidial thoughts, triggering events.

Hiding in the far back I stood with my hood pulled over my head. I had watched as they lowered his casket six feet under. Watching them cry made my heartbeat rapidly increase. I clenched my fist hard enough to poke holes into my skin causing blood to seep through. But that didn't face me, all I could think of was the undying urge to punch them, one by one. I wanted them to hurt, just the way they had made my Beomgyu hurt. They had no right to stand here crying over someone they had tormented every day, someone they had driven to the edge, someone who was dead because of them. No one did anything to stop it, no one even tried helping him. But at that moment, they were all standing there allowing crocodile tears to fall.

Beomgyu's mom was in the front. She was being held by her boyfriend Henry. Her body was shaking, her breath went unsteady due to the tears flooding her dark brown eyes. The same dark brown eyes Beomgyu had, the eyes I could get lost in for hours. He always had that effect on me. Whenever our eyes met I felt my heartbeat rapidly increase. Whenever he smiled every bad thought, every ghost from my past would disappear. I had spent all my hours with him, making sure he was never alone. Up until the very last moment. Afraid that if I left him alone I wouldn't have someone to come back to. I knew all his favorite films and songs by heart, knew exactly what made him smile and what made him upset.

Beomgyu disliked when people didn't pay attention to him. He had always been like that, ever since we were kids. When I was studying for my 8th grade finals Beomgyu had come over to my house. He started talking about something that had happened during class. I didn't pay much attention to him and studied instead, reading and taking notes. I would nod and hum every now and then, but he quickly noticed I wasn't listening. He became quiet and I repeatedly asked him what was wrong. Beomgyu didn't answer me, he just pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. The way his brown curls fell into his eyes made him look so sweet, innocent and beyond all pretty. I rarely received the silent treatment from Beomgyu, but when I did, I wouldn't last more than 5 minutes. I dropped my book and sat next to him, engulfing him into a hug and apologizing for not paying attention. Another thing to mention when talking about Beomgyu, he wouldn't be mad for long. His pout turned into a smile and his eyes softened before he continued telling me about what happened during class. While he was speaking all I could think of was how pretty he looked right then and there. I don't know if he ever noticed the way I looked at him, or how my heart would flutter when he said my name in his sweet honey-like voice.

We weren't perfect, don't get me wrong we would fight sometimes like all friends did. We'd argue over things like who should clean up after we played games, or who should get the last candy. But we also had bigger arguments. During one of those arguments Beomgyu didn't speak to me or even acknowledge my existence for over a day. Those arguments hurt the most, being away from him was not living. It was like trying to breath underwater, I slowly suffocated from the silence built between us. But no matter how bad the argument was, we would always make up. Always. Whenever we did argue I was never actually afraid I'd lose him. Because I knew we would always make up and be the same like we had been before. The thought of losing him never occurred to me. Beomgyu and I would be together forever, right?

When I had found him lying there, lifeless, bloody, on the floor I had first thought it was one of his stupid pranks. He would always pull pranks on me and even teachers, such as pouring salt into the sugar container, making stink bombs and throwing them into Mr. Brody's class. Beomgyu was a frequent visitor at detention because of this. And Mr. Brody wasn't very fond of Beomgyu either.

As I watched him lying there I prayed to God, prayed he had improved his pranking skills. In disbelief I ran up to him to check his pulse. My body was shaking and it was hard to focus on the task, all I could hear was my heart beating loudly in my chest. I put my hand on his neck, he was paler than usual and cold as ice. I pressed a bit harder in search of a heartbeat. Nothing, dead silent, all I heard was my own breathing and the beginning of sniffles. I went to grab his hand, but before I could grab it I saw the knife placed in his hand. The knife was bloody and that's when it hit me. I removed the knife from his hand and placed it on the ground next to me. I took both his hands and held them tightly in my own before I placed my forehead on his chest. The tears started welling up. My eyes hurt from the tears escaping my eyes. I screamed at the top of my lungs "Help!", but no one answered. After doing so for what felt like eternity. I finally dared to look up at his face. His eyes were closed, his skin was pale and covered in small stains of his own blood. Even dead he was the prettiest boy I had ever laid my eyes on. I tucked his hair behind his ear and rubbed my thumb over his left check. Then repeating the same thing for his right check. What I had done next was almost like pure instinct. I pulled him up slightly and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I love you, always. Okay?", I said before picking up my phone to call his mom.