I unlock the door to my apartment and step inside. It was dark and cold. What else would I expect.
I walk into the kitchen and grab a beer out of the fridge. I pop it open and take a long gulp. The burning liquid slides down my throat. I wasn't much of a drinker but Hyuck was.
I look at the glass bottle in my hand. I can't believe I'm doing this considering how he left.
I walk over to the couch and sit down. There were supposed to be tears. Tears were supposed to cascade from my eyes and cover my cheeks in the salt. My shirt was supposed to be drenched and when your parents came over to me, offering me a tissue, I was supposed to take it.
I didn't though. There had been no tears, only numbness. I sat next to your parents. I watched your father comfort your sobbing mother while he tried his best not to cry. I watched your siblings, all heads bowed mournfully, not the usual bright sunshines they were.
I reached over and held your mom's hand. She didn't move or even look away from the casket. She just clutched my hand tighter and sobbed harder.
Tears hadn't even stung my eyes. Even as I sit here now, drinking my beer, only the cool feeling of numbness hits me.
It wasn't the only feeling though. My chest hurt, so incredibly much. I felt like my heart had been ripped out and stomped on.
When you walked out that door that night, you took it with you and you never came back.
I lay back on the couch, forgetting the beer. It wouldn't help anyway.
I close my eyes and wait for sleep to overtake me. I haven't slept much since the incident. You were always on my mind.
I knew you could never come home and sleep in the same bed. I could never cuddle you or hold you again or wake up to your shining face.
I couldn't get your face out of my head. The smiling portrait of your soft features in the glowing sun. That smile.
Sleep came, lightly, and you occupied my dreams.