texted | c.sy

twenty-nine

the night stretches on, a fragile tapestry of moonlight and shadows. yeoreum lies beside seungyoun with her breathing slow and steady, a serene smile playing on her lips. the night they have just shared lingers in the air, a blend of tenderness and sorrow.

seungyoun lies on his side, propped up on one elbow, his gaze fixed on yeoreum's pale face. he softly brushes a strand of hair from her forehead, his touch feather-light. she stirs slightly but remains asleep, lost in a world of dreams where pain and time become non-existent.

as seungyoun watches her, the weight of their reality crashes over him like a relentless wave. tears starts to gather in his eyes, blurring his vision. he blinks them away, but they just keep coming, carrying grief and helplessness. the thought of losing her, of a future without her voice, her touch, her presence, is a pain too immense to bear.

"why do you have to leave me, my love?"

seungyoun feels his throat closing up, each breath a struggle against the sobs that threaten to break free. he does not want to wake her, does not want to disturb this fleeting moment of solitude. instead, he silently cries, his tears falling onto the pillow between them. he gracefully cups her cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of her face.

"why does it have to be this way?" seungyoun says almost inaudibly, choked with emotion. "why does it have to be you?"

yeoreum stirs again, her hand reaching out in her sleep to find his. her fingers curl around his, a small but beautiful reminder of the connection they share. seungyoun closes his eyes, his tears mingling with the warmth of her touch. he then leans in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "i love you so much, yeoreum," he whispers against her skin. "nothing on earth could change that."

as the first light of dawn begins to creep into the room, seungyoun continues to weep for the ineluctable goodbye that looms over closer. he vows to cherish every remaining second, to make the most of the time they have left, and to carry her memory with him, always.

𓍯𓂃

the restaurant is inviting, filled with the soft hum of conversations and the gentle clinking of silverware. yohan and haerin sit at a comfortable corner table, the ambiance is perfect for a lunch out, with gentle instrumental music playing in the background.

yohan notices haerin picking at her food, her eyes distant and her smile strained. it is unlike her; she usually loves their outings and is always excited to try new food together. today, however, she seems lost in thought, her fork moving absently over her plate.

"haerin, is everything okay?" yohan asks gently, reaching across the table to take her hand. "you've been quiet since morning."

haerin looks up, her eyes filled with a deep sadness. she squeezes his hand, attempting a reassuring smile but failing to reach her eyes. "i'm sorry, yohan. i didn't mean to ruin our day."

"you haven't ruined anything," he says softly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand. "but i can tell something's bothering you, haerin. please, talk to me."

haerin takes a deep breath, her eyes start to well with tears. her meal remains untouched, indirectly reflecting her inner struggle. "it's yeoreum," she begins, her voice trailing off. "she... she's really sick, yohan. she has leukemia, and it's terminal."

yohan's stomach churns at the heartbreaking news. "oh, haerin," he says, his words full of empathy. "i'm so sorry. i had no idea."

and then something instantly clicks inside his brain.

"is that what you were talking about with seungyoun-hyung yesterday?" haerin answers with a weak nod. yohan sighs. "oh my god, no wonder seungyoun-hyung became like that... i mean, the breakup aside, he told me there was something he could not grasp behind yeoreum-noona's reasoning and– ah, i didn't know it would turn out so much worse..."