[Nyongtory] [GRI]Reunion

Chapter 23: Patience

In one of his most vivid nightmare, he was standing. It smelled like leaves and rain but it wasn't a forest. There was a beautiful scenery, a blue painting of sky and everything was sunshine. Then he looked down and saw Seungri, holding on to a thin skin of earth. It was dark below him. I love you, Seungri's mouth didn't move but he could hear his voice just fine. Please.

His chest hurt and he blinked but Seungri's gone.

***

"I wish I could help," Hyunsuk sank on his chair, suddenly seemed so small.

Jiyong tried to smile. "You've done a lot."

"More," there were regrets spitting from his words. "I wish I could do more, Jiyong."

"You can't," because he knew, it's up to him. The decision would be his and should be his only.

"You'll stay around, won't you?"

"Where else will I be?" Jiyong asked no one. "But Seungri –"

"I'm not letting him go," Hyunsuk sighed. Neither should you.

"Wish me luck."

***

The messages didn't come anymore nor the photographs. But it didn't make him feel better. To be real, it made him feel emptier. He had nothing to hold against anymore but himself; but Seungri.

"I'm home."

He could feel Seungri's eyes on him, lingered stare that he would gladly exchange if only it's a different situation.

Or most likely, an entire different world, one that wasn't so fucked up.

"Have you eaten?" Seungri came closer, Jiyong felt the air shifted, he couldn't breathe. The first time he met Seungri, the air choked him too. He thought this was the best way to remember.

"Seungri," he turned around. Seungri stood near one of his collectible painting, waiting. "I'm letting you go, Seunghyun."

***

It was like a broken machine. It kept on resounding in the back of his mind, that if he closed his eyes long enough, colors would start squirming and picturing Seungri's face, the way Jiyong wished he'd never seen.

"Then goodbye."

Each time, Jiyong had different answer.

I don't want you to go.

Please come back.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

I can't let you go.

I don't want to hurt you.

Stay.

How about good luck?

I need you.

See you later.

I miss you already.

None of them was I can't say goodbye, like what he really did say.

***

He tried to get it off with songs. He preferred his room to stay messy, he wanted his music to keep on playing, he didn't allow himself to stop.

To be honest, he couldn't stop.

Because if he did, if he ever paused to see around, if he ever let one spot to be clean, he'd recall everything he's not supposed to have.