you're gone, and yet you're here. || egobang

1

"Is this Arin?"

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Daniel had your number in his emergency contacts. We need to let you know he recently was found in a collision on the freeway. He's at Good Samaritan Hospital-"

Arin stopped listening at that point. He didn't care much for anything else. Just Dan. It all seemed surreal; like a nightmare he would awaken from. He needed to leave. To see Dan, alive. To watch as his chest rose and fell with each gentle breath. To notice his eyelids fluttering open, the corners of his lips bending to form a comforting smile. To hear his laughter again as it echoes throughout the hospital room. To wrap his arms around his lean figure as he had done many times before.

Have more hope. He isn't dead.

Is he?

Without much thought, Arin began moving throughout the room he had shared with his spouse. He hurriedly shoved a pair of sneakers on his feet, wrapped a jet black jacket around his arms, then left for the front door. He almost forgot Suzy was wrapped in blankets on the sofa, half asleep as a thriller plays on the television.

"Arin? Where are you going?" Her voice was quiet, and somewhat hoarse. No doubt she was just a few seconds away from falling asleep.

"Dan. He's...He got in a crash."

A gasp was heard from the young woman's lips as her hands rose to cover her mouth. The whites in her eyes already tinting to a light pink as tears began to pool before spilling down her pale cheeks. She didn't bother to change from her pajamas before leaving. Suzy followed the taller male to their car, both moving in a hurry. They stayed silent from that point on, both hoping as much as they could that Dan was alright.

But he wasn't. And Arin knew that rethinking that night wouldn't change the outcome. Dan didn't open his eyes. His voice never left to the world again. Dan, had died. And Arin couldn't change that despite how much he would offer for his fate to change.

He didn't blame himself for the accident. He didn't blame anyone but the teenager who decided to smoke and drive, then chose not to pay attention to the road. It was a horrible, evil thing to wish for, but in such rough times, Arin didn't bother to stop himself from hoping the teen had received a similar fate. But of course, he'd never admit that.

It's been eleven months, now, without Danny. Without his cheerful exclamations. Without his eye catching smile. Without the eyes that reflected a cold Autumn day. A day, that meant sitting inside a cafe and looking out the glass window, watching the leaves fall to the concrete from a close to bare tree. A day, that would be spent best with someone like Dan. And that's all he could think about.

Dan.
Dan.
Dan.

It makes sense to think these things, surely. Especially after the man had been taken from Arin's life so harshly. From time to time, he would wonder why Danny was given such a death that wasn't even close to the equal amount of glory he had brought throughout his life. It was pathetic compared to the man he respected. The man that he cared for. The man that he loved. Platonically, of course. After all, he was happily married to Suzy. Their relationship was strong. But at this point, Arin didn't know if he could say that anymore.

He's isolated himself from her. She tries to help, more than anyone else in his life so far. But Arin continuously refuses it. At times, he would think of the day when Suzy stops trying. Sure, it's comforting at times, but it's also hurting her in the process. He wants to be alone with his thoughts until the grief leaves. Which would be until, well, God knows how long.

Arin looked up at the ceiling as he falls onto his unkempt bed. The blankets were out of place, one of the two pillows had fallen to the ground. His chestnut colored eyes examined the patterns seen above him on the popcorn designed ceiling. But even that couldn't distract him from the person he wanted to think less about. He would see the outline of Danny's messy, curly hair. Or, the reflection of his welcoming grin as tears began to spring up.

"Why did you do this to me, Dan?" The quiet mutter left the male's lips as he let his arm fall down the side of the mattress. Arin closed his eyes and awaited someone to answer such a question, though he knew nobody would respond. At least, not with his voice.

The door to the shared bedroom slowly opened with a creak; announcing the arrival of someone else to accompany Arin and his tragic thought processes.

"Hey. Are you doing alright?"

Suzy. But then again, who else would it be?

Her voice rang through the air delicately. Like a flower's petals dancing through the wind before being pushed to the ground by sudden drops of rain. "I made you some tea, if you want any." And sure enough, in her hands rested a cup full of the herbal beverage. She took a few steps towards Arin, her gaze remaining focused on her husband. She stopped once she reached the bed. The young woman sat herself next to him, her lips closing into a frown.

He merely grunted. Not in a way to display anger, as he didn't feel much of such a strong emotion. It was just a subtle signal to show he didn't want to speak at that moment. His thoughts were something he wished to shut down, just like his will to communicate. But alas, to no avail. Eventually, he found it would be rude to simply remain silent. Especially after her attempts to lift his spirits.

"Thanks, Suze."

"I'm here if you need me."

"I know."

"Do...you want to talk?"

Silence. Then, the sound of shifting against the bed sheets arose.

"I'll be in the kitchen. Please eat tonight. I know it's hard, but you have to take care of yourself."

Arin wanted to chuckle. To call her out for her hypocrisy. Suzy hasn't slept in nearly a week in attempts to aid in his emotional healing. Whether it be another nightmare, or simply times when he just needed to sob, Suzy was there. She offered scheduling him for therapy, but the idea sent a chill down his spine. He only agreed to it so she could get some sort of rest in the meantime, but it doesn't seem like that's working.

A few more minutes of silence pass by before it's interrupted by the sound of the teacup gently placed upon the nearby night stand. Not long after came the familiar creak of the door once again, then the click. Once again, Arin was alone.

Not even bothering to reach for the cup he longed for, Arin let himself drown in his thoughts. He didn't want to move or think anymore. And so, he shut his eyes and awaited slumber to overtake him.

And soon enough, it did.