As long as it lasts (english)

7. Memory;dear Jimin.

Art by: maja-sinika

Taehyung

12/09/17

Please come back.

Here where the hands of the clock stop, here where is always the same hour.

Come back where it's always 3:27 in the morning.

I look at the round, old-fashioned clock on my wall, neither lying down nor sitting. Impatient waiting for the hands to continue even when there is no stack, waiting for at least a little miracle. Conforming to nonsense.

I look down at this one, where it's on my cream-colored wall, the pink watch with bunnies that you bought me to make fun of me. Forgotten, because I can not with the idea of ​​having something of yours and not breaking it of the rage, continues working, this if that continues with his hours. As a function I would have to do mine, and not do.

I want it to start working as if nothing had happened, why are you standing right at that infernal hour? One that follows me and does not let me sleep, not even one night. I want to get up, at least that's what I'm trying to say, to go out and realize that this is really a bad joke and that you'll be waiting outside my house.

Smiling.

Because you never stopped doing it, never. You got to bother me, but over the years I got used to it and now I do not want to see anything else.

I do not know if I am prepared to dress and fully comply with one day.

Without eating, rejecting any proposal for improvement, going from my mother. The only one who can enter is you and that is more than impossible.

Please come back.

It's still so unreal that my routine is broken, I practically lived with you. You were my other half, how do you pretend then that I even try? They took a part of me, you were not anyone. You were my brother.

How are you?

Are you regretting something? you're smiling? I want to know how you're doing up there. You're gone too soon and my mind repeats it every time.

Every fucking time.

I have the long gray curtains this time, in the end I changed them for the oranges. Those that matched your hair and glowed in the sun, blinding us. Suddenly there is a cherry blossoming in my window, mocking me. Like the silly child who now hates the rose because it was his brother's favorite color. Should I stop? If I do as if nothing had happened will hurt less?

I got up just at that hour, screaming in pain, my eyes closed, frightening my mother. Unable to do anything, desperate. After a few minutes on the first night he noticed something.

I needed Cookie.

He came running in his pajamas and a pillow. With his first contact with my skin I shut up, his cold hand on my sweaty forehead, taking away the pain. I remember breathing heavily as he rocked me, hugging me so tightly he could have hurt me. But it would have hurt if it had not been so strong.

With my back on his chest as his heart went wild like frightened. I never felt so much peace until the seconds passed and his body was next to mine.

I want my cousin, I love him so much as to ease the pain that you left behind, razing my weak conscience. I grabbed it as if I were falling and needed something to stabilize.

Why did you smile when it was the impact? I watched as you looked at Cookie one last time and smiled at him. I could see the fear in his eyes, all in a second.