KILL THIS LOVE [OSH] ✔️

[ 10 ]

T E N
THIRD PERSON'S POINT OF VIEW

SIYEON'S EYES FLICKERED TO the calendar stuck to the fridge, eyeing the date and sighing. Sehun looked up from his breakfast, resting his spoon and taking a glance at the date. The box was pretty empty, no special event written on it. So why was she sighing? Siyeon finished her breakfast, grabbing her schoolbag and shrugging it on. "I'm leaving." She mumbled loudly after outing on her black sneakers. The male hummed in response "Have a good day." He called out, hearing the beeps of the keypad locking the door. She stood outside her apartment, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "Have a good day? As if."

• • •

Sehun raised a brow when he found Siyeon walking them on a different path than usual. "Where are we going? Home is that way." He pointed in the opposite direction, a tone of confusion underlying his voice. Siyeon shoved her hands in the pockets of her school blazer, continuing to walk down the path they were headed in. After a ten minute walk full of mainly silence, the male had widened his eyes at where he arrived. It was a cemetery. He turned his head, looking at Siyeon with no words.

"Today's my parents' death anniversary."

Quietly, the duo walked into the cemetery. It was odd. Cemeteries always felt like this dark and negative thing to talk about, but they were beautiful. Flowers at headstones, freshly cut green grass that was taken care of and trees that rained flower petals. The complete opposite of what cemeteries sounded like. Sehun watched the girl take a seat in front of two headstones, putting her bag next to her and opening it. Out of the schoolbag, came two bunches of white flowers in respect of the deceased. Siyeon placed each bunch gently on each grey headstone and sat back. "You know... I'm an orphan. And when most people hear that, they think my parents abandoned me. That they didn't have the money to take care of me." She told him, giving a soft and sad smile.

"They're wrong. My parents loved me. They could take care of me more than anyone ever could. But when I was seven, a car crash took their lives away. As well as the life of my possible future little sister or brother." Sehun glanced at her, pressing his lips together. He didn't know what to say. He just stood their, quietly and almost emotionlessly. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to respond." He said, his voice whispered as he looked at the floor with his head hung low. Siyeon shrugged, "I don't know either. Every year, I come here, put white flowers here and just sit here. I don't say anything and I don't feel anything."

"Don't you think deceiving yourself is the worst? Pretending that you're not hurt or lonely and that everything is okay?" Sehun queried, making Siyeon's blood run cold. It was like he knew. He knew she just took everything without releasing her emotions. When she didn't respond, he hoisted her up and grabbed her schoolbag. With her wrist in his hand, they walked further into the cemetery with the sun beating down on them. The two students stopped in front of another two headstones, instead this time in the shape of a cross. The girl's eye flickered over Sehun, her heart started to pace in sadness. "Siyeon, meet my parents. My mother who died during my unborn brother's birth and my dad who died of overworking."

Siyeon winced at his straightforwardness, although he was much like her, for some reason hearin it from someone else made it sound worse. He made her sound worse. Sehun comfortably took a seat on the soil and look at the two stones. "Have you been well, mom? You too, dad? And what about my little brother? He's up there with you, right?" The female took a few steps back. She swore, if he started crying she didn't know what to do. She couldn't handle tears. Maybe it was because she didn't cry often. After a five minute talk with his parents, Sehun stood up and looked at the girl who sighed in sympathy.

"Let's go eat."

• • •

"For most of my life, I've liked to believe that my grandfather didn't pretty much kill my father but it's getting harder to believe." Sehun slurred, taking a gulp of alcohol. The bitter liquid ran through his throat, the taste of it becoming sour and metallic. Siyeon groaned, holding the bottle to herself. "Stop it, Sehun. I can't handle the drunk you. I swear I'm calling Junmyeon oppa (older brother)." She threatened but he snatched the glass bottle back. His eyes shook with pain, the shine glossing over his eyes saying he was about to cry. "Come on, Siyeon... this is the only way I can freely talk about my pain."

Siyeon snapped her eyes to the male in front of her, eyeing his flushed cheeks which were like that due to the alcohol. Then she fixated her gaze on his eyes, thinking back to the other scars she saw when she was helping him out with his wound the other day. He had gone through so much and it was all just for his family. His gang. It was clear to her that he wouldn't just take a bullet for them. If he ever had to, he would be the one firing it.

"My grandfather has been trying to get me back into school and in his life because my name is in my dad's will. He gives his money and the company to me once I turn eighteen and that old man wants it. But I don't want it. I already have everything I need. Money, family and happiness."

Siyeon widened her eyes. She was right. There was a will involved. It made her feel guilty. Did she still dare to bring him back to school? All because she needed good grades?

"What about love?"

"Huh?"

"You have everything but love."

Sehun chuckled, staring at the green bottle and then Siyeon. "I don't know what that is. I can care and be affectionate. But I've never known what love is. Can it not be the same as family love?" The female leaned back in her chair, a small shrug seen from her. "I guess. I don't know what it is either." Sehun never said it out loud, but as he looked at her, he wanted to ask:

"Should we learn about it together?"

And he'll never know, if that was the alcohol speaking or him. As tomorrow, he would not remember today except that Junmyeon probably helped Siyeon get him home.