And you may ask the age-old question.
Are ghosts real? Do they walk amongst us? Are they evil? Or are they just trying to find their destiny?
The short answer is yes. They are real. Some are evil; some are speechless. Some are tied by some earthly connection, and some are just running away from death. And most importantly, some of them are just trying to justify their casualty.
You had the gift of being able to see them. You were able to reach out your hand and guide them to justice, peace, and hopefully their idea of happiness. But it drained your energy in the process.
You had no idea why you were given this ability. Your family shunned you as an oddity and left you all alone to fend for yourself in this dark world.
And you left your family nearly five hundred years ago.
You were also given the power of immortality, whereas humans were utterly mortal. You were unsure why you stopped aging around thirty years old, but you lived your life accordingly, moving from one place to another every twenty years.
You were terrified of ghosts when you were young. Eventually, you stopped being scared of them and would help them out. You had the power to awaken their past lives in their mind. But the only way to do that was the power of a kiss.
You weren't too keen on the idea of kissing ghosts who looked like they were hit by a car, but most of the time, friendly ghosts looked just like humans. It was kind of hard for you to discern who was who.
Evil ghosts roamed with hatred. They'd follow you around and beg you to let them eat you as if you were some kind of treasure. Were you the only one who was able to see them?
After hundreds of kisses and images of horrible deaths flashed before your eyes, you gave it up. It seemed to take too much of you to help a single person out, and in the end, you always ended up near an evil spirit.
You ignored the hellish life that you were destined to live, walking past ghosts who begged you on their knees and ignoring the horrible sight of an evil spirit waiting to prey on you.
After holding yourself for nearly four hundred years, you decide to move out of the town you've lived in for years and into Seoul. Maybe that was a bad idea considering the multitude of souls that needed redemption, but you had a dream of becoming a bestselling author, and the best way for that was to be in the center of it all. It was a bit funny, you've lived a hundred years and had many jobs. You always wanted to become a writer, but you told yourself it wasn't enough salary. Now you had more than enough money to do whatever you desired.
As you packed up whatever little clothing you had into boxes to leave in a few weeks, the television was blasting the news channel as if it was yelling at you.
"We're heartbroken to be the ones to bear the news of a recent passing." The news anchor spoke out while you tossed through your closet.
"Min Yoongi, an international idol and one of our own, has passed away early this morning at the young age of twenty-eight."
You dropped the sweater along with your jaw as you heard those words. You tried not to let it bother you, but you were dying to hear how he died.
You reached for the remote and turned up the volume.
"It is said that he had taken his own life, with a note found explaining his suffering and why he couldn't go on. He was found unconscious and is believed to have jumped off the building of—"
You shut the TV off. You couldn't stand hearing anything about suicide. You hated anything about death and feared for your own as well. But there was something about this announcement of death that seemed a bit suspicious.
You knew who he was. How could you not? He was the most famous rapper in South Korea, and his music even made it to the United States to play over their radios. You also had some sort of hatred for him since he carried a resemblance to your first love all those years ago.
You didn't know him personally, but you followed information about him. He always seemed like the quiet type. Someone who would have a hard time speaking up if he needed help. There was a possibility that this suicide was believable, but something in you deep down felt like the world was wrong on this one.
You continued to pack your things and were excited to move away from this quiet town. Not many spirits roamed about here, it was very seldom, and the people who passed were usually the elderly who were dying to see their loved ones. No one ever stayed here; it just wasn't the place for it. And that's why you thought it was perfect.
But things change, and you were ready to face the real world—or the otherworldly—again. That didn't mean you were going to go around kissing ghosts again since you swore that off so many years back, but something was calling you to the city. Maybe it was your powers; perhaps it was just because you missed it. Either way, you were hell-bent on moving, especially since the apartment you bought was dirt-cheap. You were ready for your move but had to wait a few more weeks yet.
"Good morning. It's bright and sunny here today in the heart of Seoul, with partially cloudy skies later on." The radio blasted through the cab speakers. "It's a beautiful November night, and we're expecting our first snow tonight, so prepare those hearts for love and—"
"Excuse me, sir?" You interrupted the radio as it still kept going. "Could you please change the station?"
The cab driver chuckled, but before he changed it for you, he muttered a joke. "I'm guessing you have no one to share the first snow with, huh?"
You knew it was a joke. And hell, he was probably just trying to make you laugh. But it hit home for you since you haven't spent the first snow with anyone special in your nearly one hundred years of life.
One hundred years ago, you met a beautiful soul. He was the love of your life. The reason you wanted to live. He died tragically, and you had to live on while seeing his ghost wander about in search of the afterlife.
Many years later, you've noticed humans who looked strangely similar to him, and every life he lived, he'd suffer too young. You gave up trying to find him after another hundred years passed, mainly because that rapper who just committed suicide looked just like him.
As the cab driver pulled to the side of the road in front of a sizeable balcony-styled apartment complex, you swiped your card to pay the fee and mumbled a thank you as you hopped out to meet the moving truck that followed you there.
"Just letting you know, we don't offer help with moving things in," the driver of the truck told you as he hopped out of the vehicle. "We only deliver the stuff."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You stood as you watched him open the latch of the back. "Shit, I'm sorry. It's just been a shitty day."
"I can tell." That is all the man said and hopped in the back of the truck to grab the boxes. Luckily you didn't have much, but you were on the third floor, which meant you had to carry all of these boxes up. You hoped they had an elevator.
The truck driver tossed the last box onto the sidewalk, and you hissed at him, running over to check on the items inside. "Would be more gentle? I swear you guys think you could do anything you want."
"Well, yeah. And we get paid for it, too." He smirked at you but had a weird glimpse in his eye. "Hey, do you by chance have a boyfriend?"
"Yes." You were holding back, rolling your eyes. "Now here, take the money and go."
You tossed the cash at him and turned away to grab the first few boxes.
"Women." The man huffed and took off, slamming the door after him. You mocked his facial expressions and stuck your tongue out at him, feeling like a child.
After the encounter with that bizarre man, you found your way to the elevators inside the building. Luckily they were in service, and you rode it up to the third floor where you found your room number 303.
Setting the boxes down, you nearly jumped when you noticed a man standing at the balcony. He was thin and dressed in all black, and if you didn't have the intuition of knowing a ghost from a human, you would've asked if he was okay.
You didn't get a glimpse of his face. All you saw was his clothing and the converse that dawned on his feet. He seemed very young, it was rare to see someone that age. Around your age—well, around the age you looked.
You quickly turned around to walk back towards the elevator, hoping that the spirit wouldn't follow you. It was barely your first day here, and you already saw one. It was your fault though, you were the one who decided it was a good idea to come back to the city. Ignoring him, you entered the elevator again to bring you down to the main floor.
As you made two more trips you were finally on your last, and before you went up you received your key at the front desk. You got onto the elevator for the last time, and with your luck, the ghost from earlier was standing in the corner. You didn't look at him in his eyes, which was also the reason why you couldn't recognize him.
Min Yoongi noticed that you put boxes against the room he was staying in. He used to live here before his idol days and is very emotionally tied to the place. When he died, he figured it was the only place that felt like home to him, and luckily no one was living there. It made him feel more comfortable that they couldn't see him, and if he was only dead for a few weeks, he still felt like he was stuck. Something was making him think that something crazy happened to him. Too bad he has no recollection of his life, and is roaming his old home with the hopes of rekindling his memory—and also to have the ability to pick up an alcoholic beverage.
Yoongi followed you down and waited for you on the elevator, watching you lug in a few more boxes. He so desperately wanted to help, but he wasn't even able to grasp onto anything. The very thought of that made him want to cry, as he wished for the memories of the times he was able to do something so simple. He wondered if he was a good man, or if he had a lover. It was like a bottomless pit inside his chest that had no ache for anyone or anything, only to know what happened to him. He prayed and prayed that before he could move on, he would find the truth behind his life and his death.
You pressed the button to go up, and as soon as the elevator reached the second floor, the lights went out and the floor shook underneath you, sending you into a fit of anxiousness. You weren't too keen on elevators, especially being in one with a ghost. You kept your eyes forward as you gulped, hitting the open-door button in hopes of it opening.
When it didn't open you pounded your arm against it, hoping someone would hear your cries. "Is someone there? Can anyone help?"
It was funny. You were an immortal being, but yet you had no powers and no escape of mortal life. You had a real fear of elevators and darkness.
Yoongi stood back and watched you fumble with your phone. He stared in awe at the way your hair seemed to be so effortlessly perfect, or how your eyes seemed to be brighter than normal. You were so beautiful to him, and maybe it was because he was completely out of your world that he imagined you as the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.
"This can't be happening." You smacked your phone aggressively when you noticed that it had died in your hand. "You can't be dead."
Those words pierced through Yoongi's still heart. He wished that maybe someone out there wished he was still alive. Little does he know that a whole nation does.
You tried your best not to glance over to him as you heard him sigh. You kept your calm and leaned back against the wall after you hit the emergency button.
Your back hit the wall and you slid down, in the opposite corner the ghost was in. He seemed very close to your age, and you assumed he was very attractive from the way he was dressed and his hair style. You began to wonder why he died, and almost spoke out loud.
You hated the dark. Especially being in the dark in a confined space. You held your knees close to your chest as you waited for someone to help you, and wondered why the ghost didn't just walk through the doors.
Truthfully, Yoongi stayed there because you seemed like you needed comfort. He didn't think that his presence would affect you negatively, but he also didn't know that you could see him.
When he scooted closer to you, you sucked in a sharp breath, but he just assumed it was because you were scared. You put your head into your knees to keep your eyes away from him.
"I'm afraid of the dark too." He sighed, resting his head onto his knees. "It's like you're walking into the unknown, completely blind and having no where to turn."
He has quite the way with words. You wondered if he was a writer in his past life.
You kept your vision low and your hands to yourself, praying he wouldn't try to reach out and touch you. If he did, then he'd freak out since he could feel you.
"I know you can't hear me. I'm doing this for myself, you know." He laughed a bit and you nearly smiled. He sounded very attractive, and by what you can tell, he's not torn apart or hurt from his death. That must mean he hasn't committed a terrible sin.
The doors swung open allowing light to bleed into the elevator. It revealed a handyman with a sly smile. "There ya go! Just a bit rusty is all."
You just nodded and grabbed your boxes, and booked it to your room, not realizing Yoongi was still following you.
Yoongi was curious. As she used the key to his old apartment and entered into it, he got a bit upset. He wouldn't have his space all to his own, but at least she couldn't see him or hear him.
After a week of cohabitation, you were on your last nerve. You still haven't gotten a good look at him to know who he is, and you didn't plan on it. You didn't want to help any more souls, it hurt you too much. Maybe that was selfish, but you just didn't want to do that your whole life, draining your energy for people you didn't even know.
Back to the whole ghost roommate thing, He would walk around shirtless and sit on the couch right next to you. He'd also sit and watch the black tv until you turned it on, to which he'd say thank you as if you could hear him. It seemed he had no idea that you could see him, and you wanted to keep it that way. After all, you were the one who thought it as a god idea to move here.
The tv blasted while you were boiling hot water to make ramen, your mind elsewhere but Yoongi's was fixated.
"The family of Min Yoongi, or his stage name SUGA, requested an autopsy for their son, claiming that he would never take his own life..."
Yoongi's still-heart felt like it was about to beat when he heard his name. He still wasn't sure if that was him, but when the tv showed a large picture of him looking happy on stage holding a microphone, his heart dropped.
He stayed silent as the tv played, while you were listening in. "The autopsy did in fact rule a suicide, there were no signs of defense, he did die upon impact."
Yoongi's mouth dropped after hearing this, only a few memories flooding back into his mind. A memory of singing, a memory of a crowd. He was happy, he would never kill himself. Something was wrong.
You sighed as you heard the tv speak. You had some sort of godly feeling this was the wrong information. It could be your psychic skills, or it could be that you just didn't want to believe such a beautiful person ended their life so abruptly. It could also be the fact that he was your reincarnated first love, you just denied it.
You tossed the noodles into the boiling pot and you noticed the ghost bent over in what it looks like was pain. You took a notice to his dark black hair and his clothing, and then to his hands which dawned stunning rings. He was definitely rich in his past life, but something else felt off for you. He was crying at the tv, watching A flashback of Min Yoongi singing on stage. You knew what this was. You noticed the same hair, the same style of clothing. The same rings that dawned their fingers.
Was this person...Min Yoongi?
And if this person is Min Yoongi, then watching this about himself would crush his heart. You gasped and went to grab the remote control. Once you did, you hit the power button and knew it was okay to glance at him since he was looking down while his tears fell.
That's when you saw him.
His beautiful face, his bright eyes. The way his tears were falling seemed so ethereal it was as if he was alive right in front of you. This whole time you've been living with this man, who doesn't have a single scratch on his body.
One thing is for certain. He didn't kill himself.
Because if he did, he wouldn't look so beautiful.
Death was simple. If you didn't commit any awful crimes or sins, you would die looking the same as you did when you were alive. But if you did commit a heinous sin—like suicide—you would never have any beauty after that.
It was unfair to those who lost their own lives like that. To deprive them of beauty just because they didn't want to go one anymore. It wasn't your place to judge, especially since you've tried to kill yourself many times.
You stared at him intently, an unknown emotion taking over your immortal heart. He looked exactly like your first love all those years ago. He also lost his life the same way, as if he was cursed. You didn't even notice a tear falling down your cheek as you stared at him.
You looked away as quick as you could and tossed the remote onto the coffee table as he glanced up at you. You played it off, rubbing the back of your neck. "That poor boy, why can't they stop showing his life publicly."
That caught his attention. He could've sworn you were looking at him with sorrow, as if you could see his transparent tears. It took all his courage to mumble out "Can you see me?" His voice rumbled softly and you kept your cool, not getting tied into it.
You sighed again and walked back to your ramen, which swelled a bit too much for your liking. You glanced back at where Yoongi was sitting, only to notice him walking back towards the rooms.
You sighed. It was like something was calling you to him to him, especially since you know he didn't commit suicide. He was probably struggling to remember something—anything, and you saw the tears for yourself. That man didn't do anything wrong, he shouldn't even be dead.
You had to meet a company in thirty minutes, so you are all your ramen and tossed your house slippers off to put your heels on. You walked out of the door and glanced back into the room, feeling an intense pull back into it. Ignoring it for now, you shut the door and carried on with your day, the only thing in your mind is the beautiful ghost who was crying.
Once you got home, you heard his cries. It made you wonder if he's been crying this whole time, all alone and only holding himself.
You hesitated. It was dark now, and you've been gone for hours on end and left him all alone in a puddle of his own thoughts. You justified what you were about to do with the words "it's only right for him to know the truth."
You dropped your bag and tossed your heels off, and ran down the hallway and into the room he was in.
It was your room. You wondered what the importance was, but he sat on the floor against the wall with his knees up. The window was directly above him, and casted the moonlight directly onto his shiny black hair. He looked up at you as you were standing in the middle of the door frame, staring at him.
You've seen him before. You've seen him on the TV and on billboards. You also knew deep down he might've been the reincarnation of your past lover, but always denied it for the sake of falling in love again. He was just going to keep dying, and you were just going to keep living on after.
He sniffed and wiped the tears from your eyes, but scoffed as soon as he did. "As if you could see me anyway—"
His sentence was cut off as he watched you run to him. You kneeled right before him and he noticed a bit of tears in your eyes as well. "I've told myself to never do this." You shakily breathed and his eyes widened with shock, the tears still falling silently down his pale cheeks. "I've hidden this for so long, but I just have to tell you."
Yoongi stayed quiet. He was trying to process the situation that you were talking to him. That you were able to see his tears and that...that you were reaching out your hand to wipe them away.
When your hand touched his cold skin, he gazed into your eyes as if he was able to speak through them. His pupils were large, as if he had just seen a ghost and not the other way around. The way your warm hand was able to caress his cheek made him cry more.
"You..you can see me." He shakily spoke up to you, his eyes piercing into yours like it was the first time he's ever spoke to a person. "You can touch me." He said, hand lifted his hand to place it on top of yours that rested on his cheek. He raised his eyebrows. "I can touch you.."
You gulped anxiously, feeling the soft feathery touch of this lost soul. Your heart ached for him, and you wanted to tell him everything you knew. So you did.
"I know that you didn't commit suicide." You laughed shakily, trying to show you were strong. When he just looked at you and tilted his head, you let out a sigh. "I can prove to you that you didn't."
His hand still held onto yours, yours still rested on his bitter cheek. He pleaded into your eyes with his, a soft smile shined on his lips as he heard you say it. "How?" He spoke softly, feeling you come closer and closer to him. "Is that possible? Is any of this possible?"
You laughed a bit and dropped your gaze, still nervous that you were about to kiss him. He was the most beautiful being you've ever seen, and that could be because you've never loved anyone but him. He had no recollection of you, that was several of his past lives ago. But you did have the ability to bring all of his past lives back into his mind.
You brought your gaze back up into his dark eyes and smiled a bit. "I'm sorry, but this is the only way..."
You may have been a bit too emotional about this, maybe he just thought you were a crazy fan. But when you leaned into him and he looked down at your lips, he let yours touch his. The cool sensation send chills down your spine and your mind spouted in color, witnessing every single moment of his life as a K-pop star.
His eyes widened as images flew through his mind as if he was watching a movie, but he still was aware of one thing. Your lips on his.
This situation was impossible. It was impossible for you to see him, it was impossible for you to touch him. How come you were able to kiss him, and how was he seeing his whole life flash before his eyes?
He slowly shut his eyes and fell deeply into the kiss, feeling the softness of your lips and the warmth of your hands against his cheeks. He deepened the kiss and gripped onto the back of your head, letting your tongue explore his mouth. He was unsure where all this desire came from. It was almost as if he's been living his entire life just to feel your lips against his.
Yoongi felt his body grow warm with whatever you're doing to him and watched each moment in his life and felt every emotion surrounding them.
And as you kissed him, you watched a tall man push him off the building he died from, and watched as Yoongi hit the ground.
You gasped and pulled away from him. You felt the tears falling again, and your heart felt weak. It was heartbreaking to watch that scene, but when you noticed a soft smile on Yoongi's face, you smiled back at him.
"Are you okay?" He asked you, both of you still decently close to each other.
You laughed, trying to get the image of his death out of your head. "I should be asking you that."
You heard him laugh for the first time. It sounded so much like your lover, and even the sparkle in his eyes were the same. The only difference was that he didn't remember you yet, and the only way for him to remember was to kiss him until that life dawned on his memory.
He sat there speechless, thoughts of his life roaming among his mind. He remembered the first time he touched an instrument to the first time he scuffed his knees up on the pavement. The time he fell in love with music, and the time he got into a car accident.
All the pain, all the happiness, all of the love, all of the hate. It was an indescribable feeling that he'd never be able to put into words. Nearly like a bitterness on his tongue or the taste of metal in his mouth, with a pounding head and an aching heart.
He watched you as you glanced down at his lips again, trying to decide if you should go for it. You were unsure, especially because he was just sitting there dumbfounded. Was it fair to him to smash your powerful lips to his only in an effort to awaken your past lover?
For you, it was a no-brainer. Of course you wanted to bring him back, even if he was right in front of you. But he was already dead, and you'd have to carry on however long until he was reborn again. It is said that you receive four lives. Four total lives. Everyone else you've ever known has never surpassed the number four, but this was currently Yoongi's fifth life.
How was that possible? Did it have something to do with his first life back and in Joseon? You had flashbacks of the gummy smile that would shine so bright, and how he left the world way too soon. You had a sudden thought that his suicide all those years ago could've been...an actual murder.
You scooted back closer to him and he still stared at you with his mouth agape. You were like some sort of prize to him, if you were powerful enough to show him his memory. He even knew who pushed him off the roof, and it broke his heart more than he thought it would've. But right now, he was blinded by you who sat in front of him.
You leaned in, your face just inches from his. "I'm going to do that again, there's something I need to see." You spoke out, licking your lips that were once dry.
He watched your tongue trail across your lips and he gulped, completely in awe of you. Your lips were soft, and he felt sinful enough that he desired more even if you didn't ask. He had some sort of pull to you, as if he knew you his whole life. He blankly stared at you and just managed to nod, and as soon as you got his approval, you pressed your lips to his again, this time with more feeling.
Your hands flew to his hair and his caressed your lower back. It was almost like he wasn't watching all of his lives play on a silver screen in his mind, and it was almost as if you didn't just watch him die for the second time, that time also being a murder hidden by suicide. Your lips danced together as you watched him dance across the floor with you on his arm, and your tongues met at the same they did in the past, watching yourselves kiss each other with such passion that led to having a child together.
You felt the wetness of his tears while you kissed him, and you were sure you were crying too. He parted your lips hard this time, sending you tumbling to the ground onto your back with him on top of you. He shakily breathed in as if he had a breath, and rose his head slowly from your lips, a stray tear falling from his eye to hit your cheek almost cinematically. The raw emotion you both felt as he stared down at you from above, like he was the one saving you.
And just like that, all his memories were restored. He remembered his first life, the feeling of falling in love, to the exact moment when his life ended. He again was murdered. Maybe it was a curse, from whe he remembered he couldn't seem to put that part together, but still, every single life he lived up to this day he was murdered by the same person.
That person in his current life was his father. That person in his past lives was the king—who was his father. His own flesh and blood, his own source of life, took it away from him just as easily as he came into the world. Like a fleeting shadow scared of the sun, Yoongi now knew his whole story.
And the woman laying underneath him.
"Y/n?" He whispered out, unsure of all the scattered emotion. Another tear fell and hit you. "Y/n, it's me."
You let out an ugly cry. A 500 year old cry to the heavens and the hell. He was finally in front of you. You desired this moment all your life and he was about to be taken from you again, just like the first time. But this time you weren't left with a child, this time you won't have anyone to comfort you.
You'd have to wait until he was reborn again, and that's when you'd have to change his fate.
"Yoongi." You breathed, your eyes searching through the emotion in his. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Shh." He hummed, his hand caressing your cheek, still shocked that he was able to touch you. He had just witnessed life and death flutter across his mind and yet, the only thing he was concerned about was drying your tears. "It's okay. I'm okay."
You let out a wheeze, holding onto his long sleeved shirt that you never wanted to let go. Your tears ran from your eyes the same way you ran from him all these years, afraid of getting attached to someone who was just going to leave the world so soon. You lived too long to fall into the trap, or so you believed—here you were with the love of your life, his eyes puffy and red. You wanted his tears to stop. His pain to stop. It wasn't fair.
"You should go." You cried out, still caged underneath him as he didn't budge. "I'll help you leave before the grim reaper does it for you."
He shook his head with a soft but painful smile. "No, I don't want to go yet."
You raised your eyebrows in confusion as the tears still slipped from your eyes. "What do you—"
Your sentence didn't get to be heard as his lips crashed onto yours again, this time you saw nothing. You were able to feel every inch of him, from the coldness of his body to the sensational touch of his fingertips trailing down your neck. You knew he was lifeless—a void of nothing, but you desired his body. His taste. His everything. And you were going to get it.
He desired you more than you could know. When the memory of your first night fled into him memory, he remembered the feeling of your body against his, and how he felt inside of you. The pleasure it brought to him and made him see red with lust. He was never able to see the child he gifted you with, but only knew about it from his memory. He wished to bless you with the same gift, so you wouldn't be lonely with him gone.
"I'm sorry i wasn't able to be here for you." He hummed through the kisses, his tears finally starting to slow. He kissed your lips, then your nose. "I promise I will remember you." He spoke, kissing your forehead. "I promise."
You didn't want to say anything. You knew it was impossible for him to remember his past life unless you kissed him, but you weren't even sure if your powers worked on humans. You didn't want to end up kissing him after his death again, it was all too painful. Especially since you pushed any thought about him to the back of your mind. Maybe that's why it took so long to recognize that it was him all along and not just a doppelgänger.
You kept your voice quiet along with your tears and kissed him again, praying to feel the beat of his heart or the warmth his touch. When you didn't feel either, it was as if your heart stopped, knowing you might not see him again for another eternity.
You were just grateful to be able to feel his touch at this point. You were lucky you could feel his lips on yours and the emotion that poured through them. At least you had this, and even if it wouldn't last, you had some closure.
Yoongi tossed you onto the bed then and you ripped the clothes off of you. He kneeled above you, and when it came to his clothes, you softly slid your hands up his stomach and chest to slide the shirt off his body, and then your hands engaged his hips and you slid them off his waist, his whole body on display in front of you.
Having sex with a ghost seemed like it would be odd. Like it couldn't even work. But you figured it was justifiable, you were able to feel each other. You were able to explore his lips, you desired to explore his body.
You leaned forward to kiss his stomach that didn't rise and fall between breaths. He was as cold as stone, but his smile still seemed to be able to light up a room like a wildfire. You were intoxicated by him, and you wanted to drown in more and more.
He penetrated you with softness, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he moved into you. Your body moved along with his and you moaned, a bittersweet feeling of knowing you might not ever get this again.
His forehead met yours and you felt the coldness of his breath hit you, and it made you desire to feel the warmth of his breath he once had. You hated yourself for not going after him, but you would've risked your lifelong secret if he wasn't your true love.
He groaned as he moved and moved, and he held the back of your head as if you would breath under his control. With a soft "i love you" that you just barely heard, he changed the position and lifted your legs up to his chest for more access, his cold presence inside you as if he was alive. You wanted him to live. Oh, why can't he just be alive?
He moaned your name loudly as if it was the last time and came into you. He looked down at you so lovingly and noticed a tear on your face.
Wiping it away, he smiled. "Don't cry, my love." He spoke so antiquely, the same way he spoke to you five hundred years ago. You weren't sure how to feel, since you just had sex with a ghost. You didn't care right now, he was once your true love. And he still was.
He kissed you again, this time feeling like the last one. You wished it wasn't.
"Now I can go." He hesitantly said, looking down at you with admiration. "I promise I'll find you."
He didn't want you to get the wrong impression as well. He didn't have sex with you just because you were in front of him and beautiful. He wanted to have every part of you before he disappeared into nothingness again. He also wanted to make sure you felt the same way, and just by the look in your eyes he knew he could leave.
"I love you." You breathed, feeling vulnerable underneath him. Those three words were all you said, and you wished to say more. You knew if you did, it would just make you both more miserable than you needed to be.
As he tossed his clothing back on, you watched his black hair fly in his face. You gazed so intently and he noticed, and fixated his glance at you after he was fully clothed. He smiled at you, and you felt you heart crumble. "Ready?" He asked with a tilt of his head, like he wasn't sure himself.
You nodded and got out of the bed slowly. You approached him and reached your arms out to his elbows, holding him there and never wanting him to leave.
It took a lot of courage for him to leave. He could've been selfish to stay with you until death itself came to reap his soul. He believed it would be best for you to help him find his way instead of being forced.
You looked up into his eyes and sighed, taking another step closer to him. You wanted to beg him to stay. To live as a ghost with you and never leave this apartment. But you understood what had to happen, and all you wanted was his happiness.
"I'll see you again, Yoongi." You whispered to him as you held the tears back. You cried too much today. It wasn't fair for you to cry. He was the one who died multiple times. He was the one who had to navigate life again, leaving back a legacy every time. And you had to say goodbye.
As he began to disappear under your touch you still reached out to grab him. Just before he completely sparkled into the air, he whispered "I love you." And it sent your heart spiraling.
You fell to the ground as he completely disappeared. You didn't cry though. All you could do was stare into the void he once stood in, your heart feeling like it was torn out of your chest. You swore off love your whole existence since he died, but now that he was gone again the only thing you could think about was seeing him again.
And one day, you hoped you would.
Four Years Later
Just a short four years later, you life changed drastically. You lived in the same apartment that Yoongi left in, and you now used the extra room as a bedroom for your son.
That's right. Your son. The son that somehow was able to be born from a ghost and an immortal. It was just like the past, but this time, you felt more secure. Your son reminded you so much of his father that you hoped he would miraculously show up to your doorstep and immediately recognize you.
So to your surprise, when you were walking home holding your son in your arms, you noticed a man in all black standing in front of the balcony just life the first time you laid eyes on the ghost of Yoongi.
You gasped and dropped the grocery bag you were holding and it started Jiho, waking him up. "Mommy?" He asked groggily. "What are you staring at?" He followed your gaze to the man in all black and he tightened his grip onto your shirt.
Your mouth was open wide as you saw Yoongi's smile. He seemed a bit younger, maybe twenty-five. But it was enough to know that it was him. Jiho was confused as you stared at the man in front of you, and when you started to walk closer to him, he gripped on your shirt even harder.
Yoongi was watching you with love in his eyes, and stared at the toddler in your arms with uncontrollable emotion. He remembered everything, and maybe it was because you were the one to send him to the afterlife and not anyone else. Truthfully, he didn't know the exact reason why he remembered every single past life, but it was enough motivation for him to be reborn again and to search for her. It may have taken him years, but at least he wasn't too late.
He watched as you ran to him, the little boy clueless in your arms. When you reached him you stopped and set Jiho down on his feet and hesitantly stared at Yoongi. "Tell me your name." You softly said, and Jiho tilted his head at the man in front of him.
"Yoongi." He breathed, standing in front of you, full of life. There was color to his skin and you reached out to feel his warmth. When you looked up into his eyes, you noticed the same feeling of love emanating from them.
It was hard to believe that in just four short years he returned to you. How was that possible? It looked like he lived twenty-five years? How on earth—
"How?" You lifted your hands to touch him again and he let you, and you felt the warmth again and again. "How are you here?"
He smiled at you. "I don't even know, what matters is that I'm here now." He reached out to tuck a stray stand of your hair behind your ear and knelt down at eye level to Jiho.
You always told your son that his father would eventually come. You told him what he looked like and what his voice sounded like. You described his smile and his eyes. So when Jiho got time to look at the man kneeling in front of him, he glanced up at you with confusion. "Mommy? Is this daddy?"
You wanted to cry again. You watched at Yoongi reached his hand out to pat your sons head, and the gummy smile that shined on his face. "I'm your daddy, yes."
You covered your mouth with your hand to hold your cries away as Yoongi stood up to his regular height. He still had that gummy smile on his face like he always did, and you missed it so much.
He opened his arms to you, his head tilted a bit to the side with the smile. "Hello, my love."
You leaned in and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible. This time, you were never letting go. He was never leaving your sight, and if by chance he does, you'll wait another eternity for him to come back to you.
Whatever it takes, you'll give him the kiss of the soul.