#nrv

one.

They say when you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes in 7 minutes.

I've always wondered how that would feel. And what I would see. Definitely, I'd see Jeonghan a lot in it, then.

But there's no time to think about that. The sun blares its bright light at me, forcing me to open my eyes and look at the clock. Damn. It's already 8 in the morning. I'm utterly late. And so, I wash up, get my keys and drive to the office, passing by a nearby coffee shop to get my daily caffeine fix for the day.

two.

"Choi Seungcheol," the boss, Jonghyun, calls out my name. "Ah, yes?" I blink at him, pulled out of my daydream about Jeonghan as the quarterly meeting of the company progresses. "It seems like you're not listening to the meeting. Do you feel sick? Wish to be excused?" he says. "A-ah, no, I'm fine, Sir," I say.

All that plagues my mind is the last time we spoke. Jeonghan and I got into a fight recently and I, still, could genuinely not see where he was coming from.

I had no time for him, I didn't care about him. That's all that's coming out of his lips. He probably didn't remember the real reason why I was doing all of this: for him. For me. And for our future.

The thought wouldn't leave my mind, really. Should I apologize? Never mind, it's not even my fault.

The meeting ends with that thought in my head. Only scribbles fill my paper, not one bullet of discussion from the meeting. Damn. I sigh before closing up my notebook and heading to my office.

After a few more hours of work, I drive home. Oddly enough, as I flick on the lights of our shared home, Jeonghan was nowhere to be seen. That's really odd. But instead of worrying, I plopped on my bed, exhausted and sleepy. I'm sure he'll come back sooner or later.

three.

I woke up the next morning to my doorbell being rung. Groggily, I get up and was met by an armful of clingy Jeonghan. Smiling softly, I chide him for being away for so long. In apology, he shows me a bouquet of yellow tulips.

The kind of tulips I gave him on our first date.

Chuckling, I put the flowers where they belonged, on a pretty vase that Jeonghan had made long ago, while hugging him and telling him that we were fine. We are fine. And we will be fine.

We're different, he and I. Choi Seungcheol, a business major. Yoon Jeonghan, an art major. Seungcheol, whose life revolved around numbers and laws and strategies. Jeonghan, whose life revolved around pottery and paintings and aesthetics. No one would ever think that the two of us would ever be a match. But here we are, in a little quaint house, lives set in front of us for the rest of our days.

four.

Our anniversary is coming up, mine and Jeonghan's. I need to think of what to do, really.

Our first anniversary, I took him to Han river. We rode couple bikes there and just basked in the summer sun. We were young back then too, fresh out of college and ready to take on the world.

Lucky me got a good spot in a huge company, so I took him on a fancy date in a high-end restaurant for our second anniversary. We ate the perfect steak, drank the finest wine and listened to the violins and the cellos played by the band I specifically requested for this day.

And now, the third anniversary. What should I do?

I think, staring at Jeonghan's picture on my work desk. What should I do? Where should I take him?

I take out a pen and my notebook, listing down different possibilities. This has to be special, it needs to be.

five.

I tap my fingers on the desk in front of me. This is the day, the day where all my efforts will come into fruition. This is the largest project given to me yet, and I now have to present it to the board for approval.

But I just cannot ignore the blaring red circle that stares at me from my planner. JEONGHAN, it reads. Yes, it's our anniversary today. And yet, I'm stuck here in the office, unable to spend the day with him.

I tried calling him today, but there's no answer. Maybe he's setting up a surprise for me. Or perhaps he's busy and cannot pick up. Or he left his phone at home. Silly Jeonghan. Always forgetting stuff. I chuckle softly, but there's a gnawing feeling in my gut. And it keeps on growing. Something's wrong, I can feel it.

Project proposal? Jeonghan? Project proposal? Jeonghan? Project proposal? Jeonghan?

I hang my head, letting the confused murmurs of the board and the boss roll around me as I weigh out all my options.

Wordlessly, I ran out. Jeonghan. Jeonghan is more important than any of these.

six.

I ran out of the office and into the outside world. Where in the world could he be? Panicking, I look everywhere. I loosen my tie, running along the sidewalks to find him.

Not far off, I see him across the street. He looked so innocent in that moment, carrying a pot with a stalk of sunflower and clumps of baby's breaths. I waved at him but he didn't seem to see or answer me. I wave and shout, but still he didn't see nor hear me.

I look up and it's still a green light. I couldn't cross the street to meet him halfway just yet. And so, I wait for the signal.

However, a student ran through the traffic. A jaywalker, you know. I sigh and shake my head. Irresponsible children, really.

But Jeonghan followed. I look up the signal lights, it wasn't red yet. He followed that stupid jaywalker. The bastard passed through while no car was in sight.

Knowing Jeonghan, he'll take time to cross the road. He's not a big fan of hurrying up, but in that moment he really needed to walk faster. All of a sudden, as I turn my head to the right, a car speeds up along the lane that Jeonghan was currently walking through.

Goddamn it! I throw my tie and blazer to the ground and just ran for it. Unminding of the glares and curses from the drivers, I continued running. Luckily, the car carreens sideways. But there was another car coming right up behind him. Jeonghan, in shock, is rooted to the spot, the pot falling out of his hands and breaking on the asphalt.

But before he could get hit, I pushed him out of the way.

seven.

They say when you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes in 7 minutes.

So this is what it feels like. Your memories flashing your whole life in a dreamy sequence. It's painful, really.

I couldn't feel my body anymore, I feel limp. I could feel arms lifting me up and tears pouring like rain over me.

But in that moment, I am happy. I am happy that I got to save him. I am happy that, even in death, I was able to protect him, keeping the promise I made to him when we started going out.

I'm happy that my last memory is of him, even if it's of him crying over me. The feeling of him holding me in his arms is enough for me.

I'm sorry, but I'll leave now. I wanted to say these words, but they can only be expressed by the lone tear that falls from my eye as I breathe my last breath.