Stray Kids Drabbles

I miss you, I'm sorry

Genre: Angst with no happy ending

After you unexpectedly die, Changbin struggles to cope with the sudden loss.

Trigger warning: Death and grief. 

A/N: Guess who is writing about death again? It's me. I promise that the next one will be more light-hearted. Writing about death feels normal for me. I suppose that after you experience so much death, it just clings to you sometimes and this is how I cope. I can't really say enjoy because you won't. How about hugs instead? <3 

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

It brought him to his knees. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He couldn't live. How could you? How could you? How could you?

It almost sounded like a sick joke; coming home and listening to his voicemails until he got to the one from one of your siblings. You left to go back home, it was only for a week. You promised to come back safe and sound. How could you leave? How could you die? How could you?

Changbin collapsed on the couch listening to the voicemail. Just to be sure, he played it again and then again and again and again and again. You couldn't be gone, you promised you'd be safe. You promised you'd be careful.

His world dropped and it shattered. The stabilization was gone and the rug was ripped from beneath his feet. He was free falling and there was nothing to grab onto. Your hand wasn't there like it always had been.

All the memories came sweeping back over him. The softness of your lips, the warmth of your hand, the way your legs tangled between his in the lazy mornings. When the sun crept up and the two of you basked in sunlight.

His favorite mornings were the sunny ones. The ones when you squinted your eyes open and the light bounced off of them. It hit them just light and he swore he could see forever in your eyes. How could you?

He was going to marry you. He was talking to the guys about it just last week. They were going to be there for it. He wanted it to be big. He wanted them to film it. He wanted to capture the moment and be able to rewatch it forever. Now there'd be no forever.

When he looked up, he could still see it. The faint ghost of you moving throughout the kitchen and making your favorite morning drink. You weren't that picky with your stuff.

Sometimes it was coffee and other days it was tea. Sometimes he'd wake up to the loud revving of the blender as you made smoothies. On those mornings, you tasted like strawberries and bananas. Sometimes it was mangoes and peach. You tasted like home.

Did you get to have one last smoothie before you went? Did you bother your family and drag them to the store with you? Did you buy your fruit frozen or did you pick up and observe every carton of strawberries to make sure they were ripe?

The more he thought about it, the more it stung. There were thorns in his heart. His heart used to beat the strongest for you. He remembered how much you used to make his heart flutter. His heart rate sky-rocketed around you.

He glanced around the room taking it all in. You'd never step through that front door ever again. You wouldn't attack him with a grin and hound him to watch a movie with you. You wouldn't hang off his body and whine like you usually did.

Tears pricked his eyes as he tried to take it all in. He wouldn't wake up during the weekends and find you lazily sleeping on the couch. You used to love movies and TV. Sometimes you'd pull all nighters rewatching or enjoying your new favorite shows.

You used to be a bed hog. Your arms would extend to the sides and your legs would stretch out. You slept in the starfish position and it took quite a bit of time for him to get used to. It's the name he has as your contact name in his phone.

You wouldn't get to spread starfish in your casket. The sun would never light up your eyes again. You'd be locked away for the rest of time while you rotted.

A screech mixed with a wail. His phone slipped from his hands as he buckled over clutching his arms around his body, begging for an ounce of comfort. He screamed loud enough that it rattled the whole house, but it wasn't enough to rattle your bones from the dead.

The smoke of grief covered his eyes, filled his nostrils, and made him woozy. You couldn't be dead, you couldn't be, you promised. His nails dug into his shoulders. With his head tucked into his chest, he bawled.

His body unconsciously rocked back and forth. The emotions were strangling him from the inside out. All the memories you were supposed to make in the future, it was gone. Your side of the bed was always going to be cold.

The mornings would be a little too quiet and the nights too long. Seasons would change, but you wouldn't. No more new body modifications, not another tattoo, and no more new hair colors. Who was he supposed to show off his new hair style too?

Who else was going to hold his heart the way that you had? Nobody comforted him like you. Nobody held him like you. Nobody like you ever existed.

His heart was being crucified in his chest. With every new thought, another nail was inserted, another hammer struck, and dear god, it fucking hurt. It hurt like hell without you.

He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. No matter how loud he cried, you wouldn't come out of hiding. The rooms were empty, but the house was haunted. It was this very room where he had danced with you a few nights before.

You drank too much, you laughed, and you cried. From dusk until dawn, you verbalized a future together. The things you wanted from a fancy house to a specific kind of car for each other. You even discussed children.

Nothing was ever set in stone, but it was fun to imagine and then life happened. Life happened and it ripped you away from him. It ripped him away and left him to rot. It was cruel and intangible.

And you, where were you? Where did you go? Did you figure it out on the other side? Were you at peace or were you lost? Is it cold beneath the ground?

Can you feel how tight and suffocating the coffin is? Do you know you'll be there until your body melts and liquifies? You can stand six feet above ground and you can scream. You can clutch the grass until your fingers stain green, but the truth is that you can't hear under all that dirt.

Maybe if he screamed it at the sky, maybe if he wished upon a shooting star, and maybe if he prayed hard enough, maybe you'd hear. Is it lonely on the other side? Do you remember the warmth of his hand in yours?

Do you remember how it felt to admire the moon? To dance under the serene citrus and bubble gum pink sky at dusk? Can you remember the sweetness of your favorite candy and the tartness of lemons? Can you? Can you? Can you?

His bottom lip trembled as he bowed his head and tried to fight through the grief. Sometimes the wave of it all was too overwhelming. Sometimes all you could do was let go and scream.

"Changbin?"

He jerked his head up at the sound of your voice. For just a brief moment, there you were. You called his name like you always did. There was a soft smile on your face.

"You're here?"

"Changbin?"

"You remember me?"

The smile on your face grew. The floaty feeling of love came back to him. The moths retreated back to butterflies as he remembered it all. The smiles, the laughs, the hardship, and the love.

He reached out his hand to touch you and then-

"Changbin?"

His eyes shot open and he glanced up. Felix stood looking down at him from above. There was a frown on his face while he took in Changbin's confusion.

"Are you okay?"

"Where did they go?" He asked.

Felix's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, "huh?"

"They...I..."

"Oh. Hyung, I'm sorry, but they're not here. You were dreaming about them again, weren't you?"

A soft sigh escaped Changbin as his eyes shut. His hand reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He missed you so much that even his dreams were being confused with reality.

"I guess I did. I miss them, I'm sorry."