Hi! So i was hysterical when Sun and Jin died. I thought they did that wonderfully, though it was extremely evil of them. I loved those two, so i thought i'd write a little something. The spacing is being annoying and i cannot figure out how to serperate sections. sorry about that!
Hope you enjoy!
Once they accepted it, everything was quite calm.
Those last few minutes;
they could have been a life time.
It was the way he would have wanted to go.
With her hand in his.
She couldn't rid herself of the guilt.
Ji Yeon. Tell him he has to meet his daughter. Tell him he has to take care of his daughter…
But she couldn't do it.
Selfish.
But she couldn't ask him to go another time.
She needed him here,
With his hand in hers.
The water was a nice effect.
Like a soothing clock. The hands ticking, moving higher and higher and higher.
It wrapped around them, took over them.
He found his mind wondering back to his childhood, fishing with his father. The ocean at his feet.
He loved the water.
It was wonderful to have it now.
She felt his ring as she squeezed his hand.
The water swirled around her chin.
There was no pain. Not anymore.
This was a nice way to go.
"Jin," she said before the water got to high. "I don't regret any of it."
She didn't.
She was glad she came back.
She was glad she was here, now, with him.
Their hands keeping them connected
So nothing could come between them.
"I love you."
"I love you."
Both their hands were numb.
But they didn't notice.
And their grip continued to tighten.
The water continued its journey.
Their kiss kept it out of the others mouth.
All sound disappeared as the water filled their ears.
Everything was distant. The world above the water
Was a different world all together.
They were in a dream
And the only thing that was real was the others hand intertwined with their own.
Soon that was gone too.
And yet it wasn't.
Because as they drifted off,
The last thing she felt was his hand.
A hand that had held fishing rods on as he sat on some faraway dock.
A hand that had held out a ring to her, one day so many years ago.
A hand that had been covered in the blood of other men.
A hand that had been cuffed, confining him for so long.
A hand that had been burnt by the fire of a burning raft.
A hand that had held hers
More times then she could count.
And the last thing he felt was her hand.
A hand that had knocked over a ballerina made of glass.
A hand that has accepted him, the son of a fisherman.
A hand that had slapped him.
A hand that had been covered in the dirt from a garden she had loved.
A hand that had held his
For so much of his life.
He had memorized her hand.
And she had memorized his.
And those hands would stay intertwined,
In an ocean of blackness,
Forever.