this would be my first attempt at writing anything fictional but i'll post it anyway
so after months of contemplating whether i should publish my work in the journal, i finally am doing it!!! *give self huge cookies and pet self on the head*. go easy on me.
Title: Whatevers left.
Pairings: Kihae, Hyukhae
Rated: PG
Genres: Angst
Oneshot
He couldn’t remember much about the funeral, but at the end of the day all he could hear was people’s words of sympathy and meaningless apologies buzzing in his ears. The truth is, no amount of 'i'm so sorry' would bring a dead person to life again. He had always thought of them as a social requirement; you have to say you’re sorry when somebody passed away because it’ll make you look warmer as a person and people will like you.
No matter how much he thought its unfair for Hyukjae to be leaving him breathing alone in the world (because god , he is still too young and they have planned out their lives so perfectly together and were just waiting for the perfect moment to carry them out), he still should re-map his life. The only thing he agreed upon from this whole ordeal is that Hyukjae’s mum is right, that he should move on. Hyukjae wouldn’t want him to wallow in self pity, to stop living just because he isn’t. anymore But how was he supposed to move on living his daily life when he’s going to do it without him? Once the truth sunk in, he had so many insecurities flooding him at once. What should he do with his life now? How is he going to still live in their house (Hyukjae should still be there so he could continue calling it their house, their nest)? How could he carry on doing normal things when normal things mean doing everything together? With all these thoughts he felt himself sliding down the wall. He couldn’t even walk to the bed to lie down anymore as his knees gave out on him. As much as he struggled to, he was just too sad he couldn’t cry. At all. All of the sudden his lungs seems to be failing to suck oxygen from the air, his tear ducts wouldn’t squeeze out any water and his mind were too clouded by worries and sadness. He needs the other man, right now. He can’t go to the bed alone. He won’t.
And then he saw Kibum at the door while he was too lost to even cry, with the cool face but his eyes were soft, so soft that it calms Donghae down just by knowing that he wasn’t so alone. He wasn’t the one losing; he wasn’t the only person who’s dealing with the similar out-of-the-world ache in the chest. Kibum was still here. He might not be Hyukjae, but he understands things without needs for words. And as long as somebody understood his pain, he probably could share it, so it should be less painful shouldn’t it?
In Kibum’s arms, he thought to himself, he will take whatever was left for him.