The Same

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

∆∆

Jaemin wipes a stray tear as he sits on his bed, staring at the calendar. Another year, another anniversary. It was the 18th again. He was visiting Hayoon again. But this time, his dad wasn't with him. Mr. Na had a business trip, meaning Jaemin would be enduring everything alone.

Or, would have been, if Jeno didn't appear at his apartment with some Peonies and an offer to drive him to the cemetery.

Jaemin sighs. "You don't have to."

"No, but I want to. Plus," he hesitantly grabs Jaemin's hand, squeezing it and interlocking their fingers. "You need someone right now."

Jaemin sniffles and looks at the flower bouquet. "Thank you, Jeno." The older boy just smiles and leads his ex outside of the apartment complex.

The car ride is silent, not even the radio providing background noise for the two men. Jaemin wouldn't let go of Jeno's hand, and every once in a while he would squeeze it, just to make sure he was still there. That he wasn't leaving Jaemin. Jeno would just squeeze back, blowing away all of Jaemin's doubts.

Jeno parks the car and walks with Jaemin up to the top of the hill where that same oak tree still stood. Jaemin was getting more emotional by the second and it was only when he crouched in front of his sister's grave did he finally let the tears fall. His cry was silent and pleading and his throat hurt from the strain of his hiccups. Jeno stood behind him, silent and comforting. He was Jaemin's rock. His helping hand. And he would stay with Jaemin through the pain and the loss. He would keep him smiling and laughing.

Jaemin places the flowers down and wipes his tears as he sits fully on the ground. He looks up to Jeno and pats the space next to him, indicating for the older boy to sit beside him.

"Noona, meet Jeno. Jeno, meet my sister. Na Hayoon."

The two boys spend the rest of the day just sitting at the gravesite, talking to each other, and Hayoon. And they only left when it was dusk, and the sun was slowly setting.

The car ride back was also quite silent, with Jaemin staring out the window into nothingness, and Jeno running his thumb over the boy's knuckles in a way to soothe him. It was sad but peaceful. It was difficult but calm. It was enough. Enough for Jaemin to know he would be ok. The warm hand grasping his was his life-line. And he was just barely holding on.

∆

Jeno, who was enjoying some ramen, widens his eyes at the text he just received, his noodles now forgotten.