f.t island; missing person; jonghun/hongki.
missing person.
jonghun/hongki; pg-13;
hongki walks out of destiny, and jonghun follows shortly after. character death warning.
Hongki dies a day after Jonghun realises just how soft his skin is under his fingers. After his heart flares with something he thought he forgot, after their lips melt together like magic. Hongki laughs, breathless, against the pillow, when he holds him tight and comes against his flushed skin, when he kisses him, when he forgets about everything else but the way his eyes seem to take in everything else.
Hongki dies, and Jonghun doesn’t quite know what to do. He plays guitar until his fingers get blisters. He drinks until he throws up every night, and then he wakes up and does it all over again. He listens to every album and every song they ever produced, all day, every day, and closes his eyes. He listens to Hongki sing and tries to imagine him right there, holding his hand, caressing his cheek.
He wonders why he even tried, when he opens his eyes. He wonders why he isn’t blind, why he even thought for a moment, that Hongki was still alive and well and there, whispering in his ear and holding him so closely that he could hear his heartbeat. He wonders why he sleeps. He wonders why he wakes up.
He smiles at the other members when he wakes up and then wonders why he does it. He gets dressed and wonders why he’s wearing the shirt that Hongki liked most. He wonders why he gets on a stage again, when Hongki’s voice isn’t accompanying Jaejin’s anymore. Why it’s only Seunghyun, no one else.
He looks in the mirror and wonders why he’s still there, alone, his heart slow in his chest. He wonders why he walks forward, why his skin has color, why he’s breathing. He wonders why he can feel when Seunghyun sits next to him and touches his hand.
“It’ll be okay, hyung,” Seunghyun says, squeezing with a smile that’s so sad, but so encouraging. Jonghun wants to return it.
“I know,” he says, and turns to his guitar. His guitar, which he plays and plays, but he can’t hear it anymore, he can only hear Hongki’s voice, a recording, in his ear. He can feel his whisper with the wind, waiting. When he plays the piano, Hongki’s on the bench next to him.
Jonghun wants to cry, wants to apologize, wants to bring him back. He needs him, loves him, can’t live without him, and it drives him mad. He throws all the CD’s out the window and throws the DVD’s in the trash. He smashes his guitar in his room a day later, and then he sits there holding it, caressing the wood which isn’t nearly as soft as Hongki’s skin.
He closes his eyes and he remembers Hongki’s laugh against his skin, remembers how warm his hand is, remembers his kiss against his mouth. He remember happiness, with Hongki, and now he has no heart. Because Hongki is gone and this is all that’s left, and no matter what the others do, no matter how many hugs, no matter how many smiles or pats or handholds or words, he can’t keep marching onwards.
He used to think he was strong, but he’s always known otherwise and so did Hongki.
The fall wind is strong as it rips through his clothes from atop the roof. The world below him is chaotic, the wind makes his fingers numb. He drops sheet music, drops Hongki’s picture. He closes his eyes and the world tilts, twists, fails.
It’s over before he remembers it, the fall, the twisting, horrible wrench in his stomach. The wind is like a breath against his cheeks, too soft, and then -
Everything disappears.
note: based roughly off of the 0330 mv by u-kiss.
jonghun/hongki; pg-13;
hongki walks out of destiny, and jonghun follows shortly after. character death warning.
Hongki dies a day after Jonghun realises just how soft his skin is under his fingers. After his heart flares with something he thought he forgot, after their lips melt together like magic. Hongki laughs, breathless, against the pillow, when he holds him tight and comes against his flushed skin, when he kisses him, when he forgets about everything else but the way his eyes seem to take in everything else.
Hongki dies, and Jonghun doesn’t quite know what to do. He plays guitar until his fingers get blisters. He drinks until he throws up every night, and then he wakes up and does it all over again. He listens to every album and every song they ever produced, all day, every day, and closes his eyes. He listens to Hongki sing and tries to imagine him right there, holding his hand, caressing his cheek.
He wonders why he even tried, when he opens his eyes. He wonders why he isn’t blind, why he even thought for a moment, that Hongki was still alive and well and there, whispering in his ear and holding him so closely that he could hear his heartbeat. He wonders why he sleeps. He wonders why he wakes up.
He smiles at the other members when he wakes up and then wonders why he does it. He gets dressed and wonders why he’s wearing the shirt that Hongki liked most. He wonders why he gets on a stage again, when Hongki’s voice isn’t accompanying Jaejin’s anymore. Why it’s only Seunghyun, no one else.
He looks in the mirror and wonders why he’s still there, alone, his heart slow in his chest. He wonders why he walks forward, why his skin has color, why he’s breathing. He wonders why he can feel when Seunghyun sits next to him and touches his hand.
“It’ll be okay, hyung,” Seunghyun says, squeezing with a smile that’s so sad, but so encouraging. Jonghun wants to return it.
“I know,” he says, and turns to his guitar. His guitar, which he plays and plays, but he can’t hear it anymore, he can only hear Hongki’s voice, a recording, in his ear. He can feel his whisper with the wind, waiting. When he plays the piano, Hongki’s on the bench next to him.
Jonghun wants to cry, wants to apologize, wants to bring him back. He needs him, loves him, can’t live without him, and it drives him mad. He throws all the CD’s out the window and throws the DVD’s in the trash. He smashes his guitar in his room a day later, and then he sits there holding it, caressing the wood which isn’t nearly as soft as Hongki’s skin.
He closes his eyes and he remembers Hongki’s laugh against his skin, remembers how warm his hand is, remembers his kiss against his mouth. He remember happiness, with Hongki, and now he has no heart. Because Hongki is gone and this is all that’s left, and no matter what the others do, no matter how many hugs, no matter how many smiles or pats or handholds or words, he can’t keep marching onwards.
He used to think he was strong, but he’s always known otherwise and so did Hongki.
The fall wind is strong as it rips through his clothes from atop the roof. The world below him is chaotic, the wind makes his fingers numb. He drops sheet music, drops Hongki’s picture. He closes his eyes and the world tilts, twists, fails.
It’s over before he remembers it, the fall, the twisting, horrible wrench in his stomach. The wind is like a breath against his cheeks, too soft, and then -
Everything disappears.
note: based roughly off of the 0330 mv by u-kiss.