This one is very personal and full to the brim with angst. It's also a mess, just smth I've written to help me cope.
-character death/ suicide/ substance abuse
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Emotions are difficult, Felix thinks, surrounded by people wearing black, the lady to his left sniffling behind her palm and the child beside her staring in confusion as his mother cried.
Felix hasn't shed a single tear.
Instead he stayed seated in the front corner of the funeral room where his mother placed him, muscles aching from the hours he's spent in the same position, eyes now glued to his pale fingers, limp on his lap.
Because none of this felt real. None of this could be real. Felix refused to believe any of this was real.
He's lost count of the many hands that patted him on the shoulder in sympathy and some pity. Some even tried to initiate a conversation that seemed to always start with an apology and ended with reassurance that everything 'will be fine' when he didn't respond.
Felix didn't want a fucking apology.
An apology wasn't going to bring Chan back.
The blonde could pinpoint the exact moment his world flew off its axis, the words spoken through his phone echoing torturously, his lungs failing to provide the oxygen he needed as a panic attack stole all sense of his reality.
It was Changbin who called him, voice cracking as he sobbed incoherently, explaining how he found the oldest unconscious in their bed, froth pooling under his head, scattered empty bottle of pills and skin cold to the touch.
"Hyung is- Chan hyung is- he's gone-"
"What? Changbin, what?" Felix chuckled in confusion, out of mind to use nicknames or honorifics, heart beginning to race. He felt nothing but fear.
"He fucking killed himself he- he isnt- he's not- he's dead he's dead hyung is dead-"
Felix wondered if things would have turned out differently if Changbin didn't have the keys to his and Chan's house, if it was him who found Chan dead in their room, a room he hasn't stepped foot into since the call.
Maybe if he left work a little earlier, Chan would still be here. Maybe if he told Chan he loved him, Chan would have stayed, like he promised (yet failed to keep). Maybe if Felix had found his best friend's dead body before Changbin, he wouldn't have thought twice about joining him.
"Felix?" Seungmin approached him, but Felix remained unresponsive.
So the younger kneeled in front of him, forcing the blonde to make eye contact with him whilst taking a hold of his hand.
Up close, Felix noticed how swollen and red Seungmin's eyes were, his lips bitten and chewed raw.
All of them had lost a friend, a brother, a mentor.
Felix had lost his best friend, his lover, his home away from home.
"They're moving Cha- him now." Saying his name out loud was hard. Felix understood. "Minho hyung said he'll deal with everything until we can come back to say our final goodbyes. Do you want to see hyung before they shut the coffin?"
Seungmin inhaled deeply and exhaled too quickly, finding it difficult to keep it together, but still tried his best for his friend that seemed to be suffering the most.
Felix allowed the younger to tug him to stand, following blindly up the three stairs covered in carpet and to the coffin enveloped in white and blue flowers.
Chan looked like he was sleeping.
He looked like he was taking a nap and would wake up any second to groggily greet Felix a good morning like he did on a daily, smiling down at the blonde, dimples, crescent eyes, untamed bed hair and all.
The blonde would snuggle closer, all too fond of Chan's morning appearance, impatiently waiting for the older aussie to pull him closer so that they could nap for an extra hour or two, or three.
It wasn't like Felix didn't have his own room, but ever since Chan found out about his nightmares, the younger had no choice but to let him drag Felix into his bed. Not that he minded.
So it became routine.
To the point where one couldn't sleep without the other.
Now Chan would be sleeping far, far away and Felix couldn't reach him.
He stared.
He stared at the faint freckles on the older's cheeks.
He stared at his fingers that rested on his stomach, unmoving and grey.
He stared as his stomach churned and his lips trembled.
Felix didn't want to be angry.
But the longer he stared, the more he felt the emotion bleed through the walls that kept him numb.
He didn't want to be angry but he was.
He was angry at Chan, for leaving him. For not letting Felix help him. For lying to him. For making Felix believe he was happy. For giving Felix nothing but love when clearly all he felt was pain.
But maybe it was his own fault, for not realising sooner. For not being enough for Chan to stay.
And as much as he felt anger boil through him, it simmered with regret.
Felix would give up his entire world just for a moment more with his Chan, to tell him he loves him. To kiss him and pull him close and to feel the other's warmth awaken all his senses.
But he couldn't.
He was too late.
The blonde raised a shaky hand to trace Chan's features gently, the tips of his fingers smoothing over the older's eyebrow, the curve of his nose and the soft raise of his lips.
Just one more moment.
"I never told him." His words came out soft and broken from the lack of use.
Felix swallowed harshly, stifling a sob.
"Told him what?"
When the blonde turned to face Seungmin, he couldn't keep his tears at bay, unwillingly allowing them to slide down his cheeks one by one, with no hopes of stopping.
"I never told Chan I love him."
"I'm sure he knows Felix," Seungmin muttered as he stepped closer to him.
"No- no you don't understand," Felix sobbed, too tired to keep up this facade. His knees buckled with the force of his bottled despair, hands gripping weakly onto his friend who kneeled beside him. "I love him Seungmin. I love him. And I never told him."
Seungmin didn't respond except for the sorrow behind his eyes as Felix's words pieced together.
"I'm sure he already knew," he repeated.
Then he would have stayed, Felix thought as sobs tormented his body.
By the time Felix stopped sobbing, the room was empty other than himself, Seungmin and Minho who had silently urged everyone to exit.
With the help of the older, he stood on weak, wobbly legs, only to let out an even weaker cry as his eyes fell on Chan.
Would all this pain hurt less if I grew to hate you?
I want to hate you, but I can't. I don't want to remember you, but I miss you. I love you but it wasn't enough to make you stay. So I hate myself even more than I hate you for leaving.
Felix pressed his lips to Chan's forehead, trying his best to ignore the dead cold that forced goosebumps to rise over his own skin.
Emotions are difficult, Felix decides as he watched Chan disappear under the casket headpanel.
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