the life we could have had | kwon soonyoung

could

drip drop.

vision's a blur.
she could faintly feel
the cold tiles
underneath her bare soles.
she could faintly hear
the instructions
they gave her.
on the scale,
off the scale.
they mentioned something
about lost weight.
how fatal of them.
it wasn't weight she lost;
it was time.

〔〕

on that day
he couldn't maintain
a smile.

he gifted many,
even when they came
to collect him,
leading him to the
pastel purple room.
or at least to him it was.
just that
it didn't smell like lavender,
but rubber gloves
and medicine.
and fear.

shots.
many needles.
and they pierced
through his withering body
as yellow petals
fell from their stem.
his eyes used to sting
with every new liquid
entering his veins
and there could have been
tears,
if he wouldn't have already been
numb.

〔〕

that night
it wasn't too cold.
not as cold as the tiles used to be
that morning.

"so?"

"stable."
he smiled.
it pained.
"what about you?"

she nodded.
"stable."

their throats burned.
they swallowed.
foul honey met a poisoned ocean.
the truth untold.
and they knew.

thank god
the starry sky distracted her
because he was distracted
by the stars herself.

soonyoung observed.
it was the first time
for his eyes
to lace with concern.
however his eyebrows
did not knit,
for he had to maintain his smile
so she wouldn't stumble
through the dark.

thank god
the distant lanterns distracted him
because she was distracted
by a lantern himself.

yerim observed.
it was the first time
that her glass lungs cracked
because of something other
than lack of oxygen.
it was also the first time
her heart seemed to crack
because of something other
than pain.
but concern:
concern was never a reason,
up until then.

"i have hope."

don't ask.
she had to.
"in what?"

"our cat café."

she smiled
weakly.
"i have hope too."

guilt.

her eyes dared
to dart up
into the sky.
in silence
she apologised
to the stars.

"they seem so close,
don't they?"

"yes."

she wiggled closer
and laced her arm
with his.
they warmed eachother.

"do you think
it's foolish
to reach for them?"

"it's never foolish
to reach for the stars."

they raised their hands
up into the sky,
picking out
their favorite speckle
and closed them
in their palms.
she giggled.
he smiled.

comforting
silence.
for a second
they almost thought
the other fell asleep.

"soonyoung."

"yerim?"

"the roof will be
yellow."

he chuckled
and leaned
to rest his head
on her shoulder.
she smelled
of purple galaxies.

"of course."

and for once
in their life
her lungs seemed
to bloom.
and his heart
seemed to flourish.

〔end of chapter four〕