Come fly with me
He chants his lover’s name over and over again; his frail arms reach out to touch what is no longer there. He can feel the restraints digging into his wrists, tearing through old scars. The memories of what was once there seep through the cracks of his broken mind.
The bed feels hard against his back, he can feel the bedsprings grinding against his flesh through the thin mattress. He closes his tired eyes, ignoring the burn. ‘I must not fall asleep,’ he whispers. ‘I must not fall asleep.’ He looks up at the flickering light. It used to bother him, but lately it has become his only company. Something he can rely on. He always knows the light will be flickering when he is taken back to his room. It used to bother him, but not so much anymore.
His eyes frantically scan every inch of the room, searching for the one person who can settle his fraying nerves. Every night he searches, and every night he comes up empty.
He used to be able to see him at night. He would be standing in the corner, smiling. He knows the medication is restricting his lover from visiting him. He can barely remember what he looks like anymore, what he used to look like, what he used to smell like.
He remembers happiness, but he can’t feel it. He can only remember what it looks like.
Sometimes his lover will visit him when he’s dreaming, but only when he ‘forgets’ to take his medication. Only then will he visit. Only then will he haunt his mind to no end.
He groans as the restraints dig deeper into his wrists, drawing blood. The blood running down his bruised hands is proof that he’s alive, proof that he’s still human.
Every second of every day he prays that he will get his wings, and become an angel. He longs to touch his lover’s soft skin, his soft hair. He prays that his lover’s wings will wrap themselves around him.
He tosses and turns, chanting his lover’s name as he feels himself slipping away. He becomes dizzy, his vision becomes blurred.
His eyes are closed, his arms stop moving. A vague smile greets his face feeling something soft around his shoulders.
“You came back. I knew you would come back for me.”
He sees flashes of black hair and soft lips, happiness and love.
Maybe this time, he’ll finally get his wings. Maybe this time they will let him go, let him become an angel.
He can no longer feel the bedsprings against his back, he can no longer see the flickering light. He doesn’t feel drowsy anymore. He feels elated, he knows what’s coming, and he knows where he’s going. There is a slight sense of fear feeling how his soul is leaving his body. He looks down at himself, at the shell of the man he had become.
A tiny hand reaches up to touch his shoulder and he turns around. His lover is waiting for him, waiting for him to fly.
“Come fly with me,” the dark haired angel whispers.
He smiles; the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.
“If we can’t be together in life, then let us be together in death.”
He takes the angel’s hand into his, he’s scared to fly for the first time, but his lover nods, telling him he’s ready to let it go and come with him.
He takes one final look at his lifeless body, whispering “I am free.”
He closes his eyes, letting his soul fall. He hopes that his wings will catch him, and they do.
Hand in hand, the angels smile at each other, their long awaited reunion is upon them.
He never looks back.
Jaejoong knows his wings have waited for him.
The bed feels hard against his back, he can feel the bedsprings grinding against his flesh through the thin mattress. He closes his tired eyes, ignoring the burn. ‘I must not fall asleep,’ he whispers. ‘I must not fall asleep.’ He looks up at the flickering light. It used to bother him, but lately it has become his only company. Something he can rely on. He always knows the light will be flickering when he is taken back to his room. It used to bother him, but not so much anymore.
His eyes frantically scan every inch of the room, searching for the one person who can settle his fraying nerves. Every night he searches, and every night he comes up empty.
He used to be able to see him at night. He would be standing in the corner, smiling. He knows the medication is restricting his lover from visiting him. He can barely remember what he looks like anymore, what he used to look like, what he used to smell like.
He remembers happiness, but he can’t feel it. He can only remember what it looks like.
Sometimes his lover will visit him when he’s dreaming, but only when he ‘forgets’ to take his medication. Only then will he visit. Only then will he haunt his mind to no end.
He groans as the restraints dig deeper into his wrists, drawing blood. The blood running down his bruised hands is proof that he’s alive, proof that he’s still human.
Every second of every day he prays that he will get his wings, and become an angel. He longs to touch his lover’s soft skin, his soft hair. He prays that his lover’s wings will wrap themselves around him.
He tosses and turns, chanting his lover’s name as he feels himself slipping away. He becomes dizzy, his vision becomes blurred.
His eyes are closed, his arms stop moving. A vague smile greets his face feeling something soft around his shoulders.
“You came back. I knew you would come back for me.”
He sees flashes of black hair and soft lips, happiness and love.
Maybe this time, he’ll finally get his wings. Maybe this time they will let him go, let him become an angel.
He can no longer feel the bedsprings against his back, he can no longer see the flickering light. He doesn’t feel drowsy anymore. He feels elated, he knows what’s coming, and he knows where he’s going. There is a slight sense of fear feeling how his soul is leaving his body. He looks down at himself, at the shell of the man he had become.
A tiny hand reaches up to touch his shoulder and he turns around. His lover is waiting for him, waiting for him to fly.
“Come fly with me,” the dark haired angel whispers.
He smiles; the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.
“If we can’t be together in life, then let us be together in death.”
He takes the angel’s hand into his, he’s scared to fly for the first time, but his lover nods, telling him he’s ready to let it go and come with him.
He takes one final look at his lifeless body, whispering “I am free.”
He closes his eyes, letting his soul fall. He hopes that his wings will catch him, and they do.
Hand in hand, the angels smile at each other, their long awaited reunion is upon them.
He never looks back.
Jaejoong knows his wings have waited for him.