Prince of Shells

29. Just Dead

Seonghwa turned in his bed. Every part of his body ached when he rolled on his back and stared up at the ceiling mindlessly. His eyes hurt with how furiously he had been crying until a few hours ago, but by now, they had just dried out.

Emptily, he was just breathing, just existing.

What the hell was he doing? Why was he still here? Why, when Hongjoong was not?

Seonghwa turned his head to look around the cabin. He could find traces of Hongjoong everywhere. There were his dirty-caked boots standing at the end of the bed, next to the wooden chest that had one of his coats carelessly thrown over it. His whip was hanging on the scratched up bedpost still, he had not needed it during the wedding, after all. There were his books and notes messily strewn over the table, just how Seonghwa was used to. And right next to Seonghwa on the pillows that smelled like him, there were still some strands of red hair that had let go of his head with time.

However, no matter how much he searched, he could not find Hongjoong. The man had disappeared like dust with the wind. He had left countless traces inside of everybody's hearts, unforgettable memories. But he was gone.

Seonghwa turned again and ignored how his shoulder immediately gave a warning stab of pain. He had still not treated his wounds, and he also could not seem to force himself to do it.

He had just caused Hongjoong's death. There was no reason for him to go and pretend like he wanted to preserve his own life without the other man, not after seeing him die.

His mind still replayed the image vividly. Hongjoong turning to look at him, worried at his call. The flag pole coming down on him, cutting him open. The way Seonghwa did not move like a stupid idiot while Hongjoong got speared onto the branch holding his own flag. And then, his wide and terrified eyes.

Seonghwa squeezed his lids shut tightly. The image burned and poisoned his heart worse than any sickness ever could. Seonghwa wanted to make it stop. He wanted to rip his heart out of his chest and throw it far away into the ocean. He wanted that pain to be gone.

But no. He could not do that. He needed to remember. He needed to remember the glorious pirate captain. He needed to remember his husband.

The thought made Seonghwa's breath hitch. His heart gave another slow and torturous squeeze, but he had no more tears left to cry. There was only emptiness.

He just moved to turn again, when a careful knock sounded on the door. It was the sixth time so far that somebody tried to talk to him, and yet, Seonghwa could not find any strength to reply. His voice was gone from all the crying and screaming he had done on their way back and during the first three hours on the Precious. He was sure that Yeosang hated him for it.

What even was he doing? Hongjoong was gone, and the crew was severely wounded and scarred out there, fighting for their lives. And Seonghwa, Seonghwa, was just lying here wanting to rot away.

He had killed Hongjoong.

"Seonghwa? May I come in, please? I took care o' everybody else an' we be sailin' smoothly. I be worried about ye."

Yunho. Dear Yunho, who had endured not just a few hits from Seonghwa. Dear Yunho, who kept on saving them whenever. Why could he not save Hongjoong? Why....?

"I be comin' in."

Seonghwa did not move. He kept still like a lifeless corpse and just stared at the wall. He was not in pain. He did not need Yunho.

Still, the door opened in the next moment, catching onto a crooked plank on the ground. Yunho pushed against the resistance, and then his heavy steps were inside already.