You are quite like a wilted flower,
neglected,
dried out,
and crumbled into pieces.
But, why did you still catch my attention with that beyond-belief beauty of yours?
All you need is a little love to bloom,
a little care to grow colorful,
and a litt...
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XXXIV: Wilted Flower
A World Without Color | The haunting void left in the wake of a loss, where vibrant moments fade into shadows, and the future feels uncertain and bleak.
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Pain. It swallowed him whole, a relentless ache that seeped into his bones, settling there like a curse that would not lift. The world around him blurred, fading into muted colors and distant sounds, dissolving into a haze of sorrow that refused to clear.
He was drowning in silence, the voices of those around him soft and hollow, like murmurs through water, comforting and haunting all at once.
Tears slipped down his face, warm and endless, but he was numb to their touch. He couldn't lift a finger to wipe them away. He couldn't scream. He couldn't breathe.
Pain thrummed through his veins, coiled around his heart, sharp and venomous, like shattered glass under his skin, each pulse a fresh torment. It was all he could feel, all he could hear, this terrible, hollow ache.
And yet, it felt unreal, like some dark and twisted dream, a nightmare he might wake from, any second now, and find him there- alive, laughing, teasing him in that way he always did. But the silence pressed down, heavier, crushing the hope in his chest like brittle leaves underfoot.
Minho's brother, his other half, the soul who knew his every thought, his every flaw and fear, was gone.
Gone, as if ripped away by some merciless hand, leaving nothing but this gaping, brutal emptiness. A hollowness carved out where joy had once bloomed.
They had shared everything- late-night whispers, muffled laughter, a thousand moments so vibrant they had filled the room like sunlight breaking through clouds.
But now, those memories felt distant, too bright, too painful, like looking at the sun after a lifetime of darkness.
He would have crossed mountains for him, walked through fire, shouldered any agony just to keep him safe. But now he was weak, crumpled on the floor, too broken to even stand, to fight against this cruel twist of fate.
How could he have been so powerless? Why hadn't he known, why hadn't he seen the shadows closing in, the darkness creeping closer?
His friend, his brother, who would have given anything, everything, was gone. Taken in a heartbeat, leaving him alone in a world stripped of color, of warmth, of meaning.
He tried to speak, to say something, anything that might bridge the emptiness between them. But his voice was gone, lost to the weight of grief pressing down on his chest, crushing the breath from his lungs.
Memories clawed their way back, sweet and bitter, each one a knife twisting deeper. How could they be only memories now? Just shadows of a life he'd never have back, flickers of laughter and light that would haunt him forever.
If he could, he would turn back time, rewrite the ending, pull him close one last time and hold on as if that could change fate. But all he had left was this wretched longing, this helpless ache that seemed to stretch on, endless, without hope of reprieve.
The room was silent. The world had stilled, as if even time itself held its breath in the wake of this loss. Minho closed his eyes, letting the dark wash over him, sinking into it, losing himself in the void, because anything- even nothingness- was better than facing a world without him.
And in that emptiness, as he felt himself fall, all he could do was whisper a name, a name that held the weight of every unsaid word, every dream they'd shared, every promise that would now remain unfulfilled.
And as that name slipped into silence, he let himself shatter, each piece of him falling into the dark, lost in the shadow of a love that would never fade but could never be whole again.
And in the fullness of time, a truth settled in, cold and unyielding.
He would live the rest of his life haunted by the ache of someone who should still be here, but never, ever would be.
