“What does the other person mean to you?”
“The air. Oxygen. I can’t live without Sanha.”
That is what Bin said. That is what echoes in his mind right now, weeks later. That is his truth and reality. It is all Bin knows. Whenever he looks at Sanha, whenever the young and soft male is in reach for Bin to hold him, and whenever Sanha smiles, Bin can breathe with ease.
Then, there are the rare, intimate moments between them, the ones where Sanha gently strokes every part of his skin with his lips in the safe darkness of their home. In those moments, Bin loses his breath and gasps for oxygen. And to him, oxygen is Sanha.
Now, Bin can’t breathe because his oxygen isn’t in his reach. His oxygen is unconscious and his limp body is covered in dark red, the color of thick and warm blood.
Bin is barely awake, yet the memories vaguely show up in his mind. Sanha was laughing by heart and smiling at Bin, who was joking and talking about all sorts of silly things to brighten Sanha’s mood. It’s the end of promotions and even though Sanha never says, Bin can tell he is exhausted.
When it happened, when the car suddenly jolted and flipped, they were holding hands. Bin was just about to bring Sanha’s hand up to his lips and kiss his knuckles while whispering how much he loves him and how happy he is with him. He was going to tell Sanha that he is his life, his air, and his reason to live.
They’re upside down, only held in place by the seatbelts. A red lamp is blinking furiously and providing some sort of light. It illuminates Sanha in time with Bin’s rapid heartbeat. Sanha’s blood covered arms and the red light makes him look so creepy Bin shivers as an ice-cold iron grips at his heart.
He tries to move, but a powerful pain that makes Bin see stars stabs his neck and spine. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to fight the dark void drawing him in. He needs to stay awake.
“Sanha,” Bin calls the name of his lover in a weak whimper.
Despite the pain, he tries to move again, reaching for Sanha. Bin is so close, there are barely centimeters between their fingers, but just then, his seatbelt snaps and he falls.
Even though the fall is very short to what is supposed to be the car’s ceiling, he feels a bone somewhere in his aching and stiff body break. Additionally, the pain in his neck and spine intensifies as he lands on his side.
Bin screams so loud his voice cracks and tears well over all at once, streaming down his scratched cheeks. He lets out whimpers and moans that almost sound unhuman to his ringing ears.
Hiwever, the weird sounds that uncontrollably leave his mouth are the last thing Bin cares about right now. He doesn’t even care about the overwhelming pain and how badly his body is injured. Only Sanha matters to him.
Bin crawls closer to Sanha, but the pain holds him back. It feels like his anxious heart will explode as he slowly, but surely gets close enough to reach out and touch him.
“Sanha… Sanha… Please, Sanha, please… Wake up, Sanha…” Bin desperately mutters while stroking Sanha’s head.
Sanha’s face seems fine, but now that Bin is closer he can see the source of the blood that's covering him. A piece of sharp metal has cut into Sanha’s arm and blood is continuously flowing out from the deep wound and dripping down onto Bin’s knee. Bin feels uneasy just looking at it. He can almost feel Sanha’s pain and the pulsating of his blood veins that have burst.
He quickly looks away, silently praying he won’t encounter any more wounds on the lean but muscular body of his precious love even though he knows Sanha can't have gotten away that easily.
When he looks back, his eyes catch something that makes his insides turn. Another piece of metal has stuck into Sanha's stomach. It doesn't seem to have gone in as deep as the one in his arm, but it still looks so bad Bin fears that Sanha won't survive and that thought causes Bin's whole world to crash down on him.
He forces himself with all his willpower to not break down. He forces himself to keep breathing because he can't give up on Sanha, no. Sanha will make it. He has to.
Bin needs to call an ambulance. That’s the only way he can help Sanha without hurting him. He remembers his phone was in his pocket, but now it’s nowhere. Bin looks around, but it’s too dark to see anything more than the glass shatters and pieces of metal around him. He tries to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of glass sticking on his fingers as his hands roam over the ground in search of his phone, which he doesn't find. Everything is such a mess.
Bin yells, frustrated and panicked. Then, a bunch of dirty curses Jinjin would have scolded him for saying leaves his mouth.
Bin turns back to Sanha, hoping to be met with confused and disoriented doe eyes, but Sanha is still unconscious.
“Sanha,” Bin tries again, now caressing Sanha’s cute round cheeks. The cheeks he loves to kiss and pinch.
Bin can't help but wonder why this happened and how. The roads weren't as crowded as normal. Traffic was less, so why did their car suddenly flip? Did they get hit by something? Did their driver lose the wheel? Their driver…
Bin turns to the front of the car. He can't see much, but judging from the mess and how the front seems to be crushed in, he suspects it didn't go well.
Bin swallows down the thick lump in his throat and blinks away the tears that make his vision blurry, but he can't hold back his strangled sobs and soon the tears flow down his face anyway.
"Sanha, you can't leave me... I can't live without you... Don't leave me like this... Please..." Bin chokes out between sobs.
Finally, he forces himself to feel Sanha’s pulse. He doesn’t care about silencing his ugly cries as he moves a shaking hand to press down on the spot under Sanha’s jaw, the spot where he should feel Sanha’s heartbeat.
He doesn’t feel anything.
Bin can't breathe. He can't and he doesn't try to because his air, his oxygen, is Sanha and with Sanha gone Bin can't live.