Ten thinks that the plants outside will be thankful for the shower. His own body is still drenched. The funeral took enough time to have him thoroughly soaked with ice. Maybe, he should change his clothes and dump his black shirt and pants in the dryer. Otherwise he will catch a cold.
He doesn´t move. Simply sits on his bed and lets the silence crush his sanity. His face his still wet too, so it´s hard to decipher rain from tears, even though he´s pretty sure he stopped crying over an hour ago.
The simple idea of mourning over someone he didn´t know, is terribly laughable. Then again: that´s not the whole truth. He did know the silent boy with the hazel nut hair. He is sure of it. He did know Sicheng… in his own way at least. Ten thinks that Sicheng must have known him as well.
After all they are soul mates.
They were soul mates.
They were going to be…
Ten closes his eyes. He could never forgive himself, if he let go of the only memory he has of Sicheng. So, he recalls it all. Let´s every aspect of the picture in his mind stab through his chest again and again. A warm smile – small, as if it had only been determined for Ten to be seen. Stab. Those big eyes: looking at him and telling him about a future, which they both so desperately needed. Stab. A hand reaching out for him. Stab. Rain-drenched asphalt. Stab. The lights of a car. Stab. A horn echoing through the night. Stab. Sicheng. Crash.
His head drops into his hands. There´s nothing now. In his chest. Only a dark hole, unwilling to heal closed. It´s a space Ten doesn´t know how to feel but he knows if he waits too long, his guts will tumble out and the rain will come in. The rain will come in.
And it will drown him.
He looks up, finds his phone next to him. If he called Taeyong now, the boy would be here in a matter of minutes. He´d try his best to comfort Ten. To make him forget the part of his soul that had been crushed, by the tyres of a car. And after hours and hours of trying, Taeyong would realize that he fails. That Ten won´t come back. He´d be disappointed. He´d look at Ten with those sad eyes. And then Ten would ask him to leave. Because, they both know that this is futile. Sicheng is not coming back.
So Ten is not coming back either.
The phone remains untouched and Ten stands up. He walks to the window and looks through the milky glass. Sicheng smiles at him again. He whispers. He pulls. Ten longs for it. So, he lets it take over. Let´s the rain in and listens to the silence. His body moves, he realizes that much. It doesn´t matter. Not when Sicheng looks so excited and expectant. Ten will not disappoint him. Never.
The rain drowns him. But he doesn´t care, because Sicheng has him in an embrace. He´s warm, where the river is cold. He´s soft, where the waves are sharp. He´s stable where Ten´s balance gets unsteady. And he´s breathing, when the rise and fall of Ten´s chest becomes shallow. There´s something he leaves behind. But it´s absolutely nothing, compared what he reaches now.
Sicheng looks at him, presses Ten into his embrace, “Welcome home Hyung.”
Taeyong doesn´t know how long he has been staring at the newspaper in his hands. It doesn´t really matter, because he doesn´t think that he could ever really understand what it says. Much less, accept it.
“Breaking News: Man drowns himself in local river after soul mate´s abrupt death.”