Ineffable 𓇢𓆸 || Jakehoon

❄️ Chapter 79 ❄️

Eunhee's POV

Winter had settled over Seoul like a heavy, cold blanket. The chill bit through the layers of clothing, biting into the skin, but it wasn't the cold that made me shiver. It was seeing Sunghoon this way.

He barely spoke anymore. His eyes-once so full of warmth, full of life-now seemed hollow, like they were lost in a place I couldn't reach. Even in the crowded streets, he felt like the loneliest person alive.

It had been three weeks since Jake's death. Three weeks of living in the aftermath, in the emptiness that seemed to swallow everything whole. The war had stopped. The fighting had ended. The sounds of bombs and gunfire were replaced with quiet, peaceful streets-but none of it mattered. The world had moved on, but Sunghoon hadn't. He couldn't. He was stuck. Stuck in the moment he lost Jake, unable to pull himself out of it.

Today was hard. The others-Jay, Heeseung, Niki, Sunoo, Jungwon-they had all been trying to be strong for him. We all had. We told him to come with us. That it would help, that it was time.

It was time to go to Jake's grave.

The graveyard was quiet, snowflakes drifting lazily through the air, resting on the ground, the trees. It should have been peaceful. But all I could feel was the unbearable weight of the grief that pressed down on us, especially Sunghoon.

As we walked past the rows of graves, Sunghoon didn't move any faster, didn't walk any slower. His feet shuffled, his eyes cast downward, and his hands were stuffed deep into his coat pockets, like he was trying to keep the world at bay. He didn't say a word. Not a single word since we left the apartment.

"Sunghoon," I said gently, hoping my voice might break through his silence. But there was nothing.

The others walked quietly behind us, exchanging quiet whispers, their own grief written across their faces. But they, too, were trying to keep strong. Trying to keep together for Sunghoon.

We reached the spot.

Jake's grave.

The snow had gently covered the earth around it, and vibrant flowers, despite the winter, were carefully placed at the base-just like Jake would've liked. He always said he wanted his life to be colorful, full of beauty, even in the hardest times. A smile tugged at my lips, remembering the way his eyes would light up when he spoke of things like this. But that smile quickly faded as I looked over at Sunghoon.

His body had stiffened, and he was staring at Jake's grave as if he was seeing something-someone-there, but not in the grave, just beyond it. His face was pale, his expression unreadable, as though everything around him was so far away.

Jay placed a hand on Sunghoon's shoulder, but Sunghoon didn't flinch. Didn't respond. He just stood there, motionless, as if the whole world had faded out of him. Like he was already gone, like he couldn't bear to exist in this world without Jake.

"Sunghoon..." Heeseung's voice was soft but filled with sorrow. "We're here. We're all here for you."

But Sunghoon didn't respond.

I stepped closer to him, reaching for his hand, hoping to make some connection. But when I touched him, he didn't even look up. His eyes were locked on the grave, as though Jake was still there, as though he could hear him speaking. I couldn't bear the emptiness in his gaze.

"I know this is hard, Sunghoon hyung" Niki's voice broke the silence, his tone filled with sadness. "But we're still here. We're still a family."

But even Niki's words couldn't reach him.

I looked over at the others, feeling helpless. We all missed Jake-God, how could we not? He had been our strength, our laughter, the heart of everything we had fought for. But for Sunghoon, it was different. Jake had been his world. He had been everything.

"Remember that day we spent in the park, Sunghoon hyung?" Jungwon asked quietly, his voice a whisper in the cold air. "Jake was so happy, running around like a little kid. He told us that the best days were the ones spent with the people he loved. We were all there. You were there."

I watched Sunghoon's eyes flicker, but he didn't speak. He never spoke anymore. It was like he was trapped in the memory of that day, stuck in the last time he'd felt Jake's warmth, his presence.

I could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his fists clenched in his pockets. I knew he was fighting to keep the tears at bay, trying to hold himself together, but I could see the cracks, the way his pain was slowly eating him alive.

"Please, Sunghoon, talk to us," I whispered, more to myself than to him. "Please. We need you. We miss you, too."

Sunghoon didn't say anything, but his shoulders trembled ever so slightly. A shudder that I could feel in my own chest. I knew he was breaking. He was breaking and I couldn't fix it.

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, in the stillness of the winter air, the quiet of the graveyard surrounding us. Sunghoon stayed silent, his grief too deep to be spoken aloud, his pain too consuming for words. His eyes stayed locked on the grave, and I knew-he wasn't just looking at the grave. He was looking for Jake, waiting for Jake to come back, to wake up, to make everything feel like it used to.

But Jake was gone.

The thought cut through me like a blade, sharp and raw, and I could see it in Sunghoon's eyes, too. He was still waiting. Waiting for something that would never come.

I wanted to scream for him, to shake him out of this broken place he was trapped in, but I knew it wouldn't help. No one could reach him. No one could pull him out of this abyss.

But still, we stayed. All of us. We stayed by his side, hoping that one day-somehow-he would find his way back. That somehow, through all the pain and silence, he would find his way back to us.