⋆˚࿔ Overwhelmed With Guilt ⋆˚࿔

Death, dying, dead—those words kept replying in your traumatized mind as you thought back to the day he died, dead? Was he really dead, or was your mind trying to protect you from a breakup? You didn’t know you had been on autopilot since you saw his dead body, slowly going into rigor mortis, his body stiffening as you saw the life drain from your boyfriend's eyes—JJ Maybank dead in Morocco.

They left him there, his body buried alone in the sand of the desert; why couldn’t they bring him back? Why couldn’t they give him a proper funeral? He would’ve hated that, right? 

It was late when you woke up from a nightmare, sweating and panting as you screamed from the terror of having to relive his death every time you closed your eyes.

“Shh, shh.” Someone cooed—JJ? Yes , JJ was comforting you; you cried into the chest of JJ, knowing no matter what you did, he would always come back