𝗐𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇 | 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌.

𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 [𝗇]

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲. 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽.

He held it close to his chest, the thorns puncturing his skin and drawing blood. It was a sight, the delicate petals of the white roses getting stained with the thick substance which took away their purity. Nothing like he'd ever imagined, being so lost in the beauty of an inanimate object. A flower, for that matter. Something so common, and yet so rare. He watched as the blood trailed down his hands and wrists, slowly dropping and tainting the concrete floor beneath him.

His mind was gone, not a trace of humanness in his body. The cheerful boy he once was had vanished into thin air, he was gone long ago. Now, it was a walking body that lacked a soul, lonely and pained with the weight of a burdening sadness. So lost, wanting desperately to be found, but slowly losing hope. His hands were stained with red, and he looked down at them with an oblivious stare, as if he didn't know the substance belonged to him, as if he didn't feel the thorns sinking deeper and deeper in the skin of his hands.

The casual blinking was the only evidence he was alive, a craned neck which was numb, and a still body which was shallowly breathing. He was used to it, though. Feeling as if his body was no longer his, as if his heart was ripped out and still beating on the floor in front of him. How surreal, losing himself in his mind, his conscience suffocating him slowly. He was mildly aware of the suffering he was going through, the angered storm in his mind made him notice his turmoil. He was trapped, wanting someone to ease him out of the mess inside of him. Wanted him to come end the misery.

But nobody was coming. His savior was alive only in his memory, his soul had gone far beyond and into a better place. His body was buried six feet under, leaving a heartbroken and enamoured boy who had lost it all on a fateful night. Someone who had just gotten out of an orphanage, being neglected since birth, abused and torn to shreds. He had found someone who made him smile, a man named Choi San. Someone who, despite going through hell, still believed in heaven. Someone whose wings were torn, but he didn't need them. A light in a sea of darkness.

Though, it's always the good souls who go first. Because they don't deserve to suffer more than they already had, because the world doesn't deserve them after all. And that was San's fate.

After leaving the orphanage, he promised to return. He promised to get the cheerful boy who had found a new reason to be happy, they would be together as soon as he turned eighteen. But sometimes life has other plans, because it rips away the most beautiful things. A drunk driver, selfish person who downed their problems by hurting their body, so selfish that they didn't care about the loss of someone else's life.

He had left someone whose wounds were starting to heal, and gave him new ones. Took away the only method of turning them into scars, the medicine to save his broken heart. The someone who could hug them, and mend back the broken pieces of their soul. And now they were gone, making the now-twenty-year-old shed tears of mourn, and make him wish he was never born.

His only purpose to continue was taken away, leaving the memories in the grand building which had sheltered them for many years. Their favourite part, their garden. In which they fell in love, in which they kissed, in which they made so many memories which were now fading away. A place where San's favorite roses were planted, a place to honor the amazing person he was, roses which were now decaying. Living evidence of how someone that was once so important was being slowly forgotten.

He was so terrified. The feeling of so desperately wanting to clutch to something, to the anecdotes, to the moments. But in contrast, they wanted to fade away and find peace while being erased from everyone's mind. And it was happening, the sound of his voice, how his arms felt around his smaller frame, how soft his lips were, how his head felt while laying on his lap. Wooyoung was forgetting, he wanted to hold on, he needed to. Because it was the last thing keeping him sane. And now, as he clutched the white rose, there were millions of flashbacks. The first meeting, to their first hug, and first kiss, their love confession, the promises, the stargazing, everything. And as they came, they disappeared. They broke him once again.

He was broken, and there was nobody to bring the pieces back together. Maybe he was destined to suffer the same fate, having to give up the things which kept him alive, the little glimmers of hope which showed up and then were torn away.

The blood kept easing out of his wounds, more and more and more. It was now dropping in a steady flow and touching the other flowers beneath them. They were now stained with the pain of someone's suffering, someone who didn't have a purpose anymore, someone who had given up. This was his farewell to the world, visiting the place which was once filled with laughter, from the person he so deeply loved. And even the sound was disappearing from his memory.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice was hoarse from all the crying and how body was shaking with escaped sobs, "I'm forgetting... the sound of your voice, and laughter, everything is disappearing. No matter how much I try, it doesn't come back to me. We promised to be strong to whatever was thrown our way, but now you're gone. How am I supposed to be without you, here? Nothing makes me smile, nothing makes me want to wake up in the morning. You aren't here. I miss you so badly, it feels that you took the sun's shine when you left, and the stars never seem to have the strength to create our favorite constellations, what have you done to the moon? Do you take her away, so you can talk to her like you always wanted? The flowers are withering away, their once healthy petals are now crumbling down. Did you take all the good in the world, when you left? It seems like the most normal answer, even when nothing makes sense anymore. Let's meet again, Sannie."

His voice was a mere whisper, his body still racking with sobs. The rose's petals were dropping to the ground and meeting the blood beneath them. He brought a cloth out and wiped his hands clean, placing the rag back into a container in his bag. He waved at the withering flowers, smiling so painfully it seemed forced. It wasn't though, just an expression of pain only a few have to experience in their lives, one that nobody would wish on their worst enemy. That's how serious it was.

Tears fell down his porcelain cheeks, tinting them with a rosy color and giving some life to his usually pale skin. He so desperately wished it had been him, he wished he could turn back time and sneak out with San on that same night. Because he didn't want to feel the pain, a pain which was growing too heavy on a frame that became smaller every day. He wanted to die, so so badly.

And he was going to. Alone, in a place plagued with loneliness but held the things dearest to him. He was going to put his suffering to an end, once and for all.

y'all this was a little sad, i will be the one to admit i cried several times while writing this. it broke my heart to put some of the pain i've been through into words, to have to imagine how i felt when i lost some dearest to me. just remember, i'm always, ALWAYS here for you no matter what. please never turn to what this fic implied, it's only fictional and i do not encourage this in any way. remember that there is always someone who loves you, even if the darkest of times, there is always someone praying to make sure you continue. and that someone is me, or maybe someone even closer to you. come to me if you need anything at all, okay? i'm a safe space.