The park was shrouded in a somber, grey light as Taehyung sat with his two best friends on the grass. The sky above was a mantle of thick, dark clouds, foreboding rain or snow, but holding off for the moment. The air was sticky with humidity and a chilly breeze ruffled the leaves in the trees.

Kids played at the playground, their laughter and screams piercing the serene atmosphere. They climbed the jungle gym, swung high on the swings, and chased each other around, oblivious to the gloomy weather.

Taehyung watched them with a little nostalgic smile, momentarily zoning out, deaf to the conversation the other two were having. His craving to see Jiyu had been wedged into the center of his chest since he woke up, an ache that refused to subside. He thought watching other kids play might lessen it, might somehow fill the void, or at least distract him from it. But it only festered further, growing sharper and more insistent with every passing moment.

“Tae?” Jimin called again, nudging his shoulder in his attempt to pull him out of his reverie.

Taehyung turned his head to his friends with a jerk, trying to focus. “Hmm?”

“What are you thinking about?” Hoseok asked.

“Jiyu...” Taehyung uttered with a sigh. “Now that I saw her again, I can’t stay away from her. I miss her all the time.”

Jimin skimmed his back with a delicate palm, offering him a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t you go see her?”

“Why do you think?”

A muted snort jumped out of Hoseok at the derisive tint of his pitch. “You don’t want to see Jungkook.”

“He’s an asshole,” Jimin said before Taehyung could respond, disdain dripping from his voice. “He didn’t even try to get in touch with us since he returned. We were friends with that assface since high school.”

Taehyung’s lips stretched weakly with a dim smile at the cute moue he detected on Jimin’s face. “If he had, would you have talked to him?”

Jimin cast him a glance, preserving eye contact for a few moments before he dropped his head, his pout deepening. “No. I’m mad at him.”

“Exactly.” Taehyung’s chest flattened with a long sigh. “I push him away every time he tries to talk to me. I don’t think he can take the same treatment from you two as well.”

“Do you think you can forgive him?” Hoseok asked, his voice laced with hesitation as he glanced at Taehyung, unsure of what response he would evoke.

Taehyung felt as if he sank out of consciousness at the question, his mind wandering away. The park around them seemed to blur, the sound of children’s laughter and the remote buzz of traffic dissolving into the background as his thoughts consumed him.

Forgiveness. The word thundered in Taehyung’s mind, stirring up a tornado of emotions. He had wrestled with it countless times since Jungkook’s return. The betrayal, the hurt, and the overwhelming sense of loss had left deep scars. Jungkook’s actions had shattered his world, leaving him grappling for air in a sea of rage and sorrow.

How could he forgive him if Jungkook didn’t tell him the truth? If he didn’t explain what had happened so suddenly?

“I don’t know,” Taehyung finally answered, his voice barely above a whisper. He stared ahead, blind, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance. “All I know is that I miss Jiyu.”

“Then call her,” Jimin suggested, giving him a soothing squeeze on his shoulder. “Ask Sung Ryung to bring her here if she can.”

“You’re right.” Taehyung slipped his phone out of his pocket and tapped on Jiyu’s name. It rang for a while, and when she picked up, his expression contorted with worry at the broken, hushed tone of her voice.

“Tae—Taehyungie oppa.”

“Jiyu-yah? Are you crying?” Taehyung’s heartbeat spurted into turbulence at the choked sob that curled around his ear in the most atrocious of ways. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, n-not me. Jungkookie oppa.”

A new sort of alarm engulfed Taehyung at her muted words, and he sprang up from his seat, his breaths coming in rushed, choppy puffs. “What... What happened to Jungkookie?” His voice cracked with concern, his thoughts raging with fears of what could have happened.

“He’s hurt,” Jiyu murmured. “We’re at the hospital.”

“Is it serious?”

“The doctor said he’ll be okay. He had to do some stitches. But he’s still sleeping. Why is he still sleeping if he’ll be okay?”

“Can you tell me the hospital’s name?”

“Um, mom, what’s the name of the hospital?”

Taehyung paced anxiously as he waited for the response, his entire existence drenched in agitation. Jimin and Hoseok hovered close by, their expressions mirroring his concern.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, Sung Ryung-ssi.”

“I didn’t call you because it’s really nothing. He did a few stitches on the side of his head, but he’s okay.”

“Then why is he still unconscious?” Taehyung asked, an intensity he couldn’t tame coating his voice, making it quiver.

“We don’t know.”

“Tell me where he is.”

Sung Ryung held onto her silence, viewing her son’s still body on the hospital bed. “By the way you’ve been treating him, I thought you didn’t care, Taehyung.”

“Of course I care,” Taehyung spat out, feeling his pulse thrum along his nerves. “I spent my whole life with him, except for the last five years. Tell me the name of the hospital.”

A mild sigh spilled from Sung Ryung’s lips. “Seoul National Hospital.”

“I’ll be there soon.” Taehyung hung up the phone and turned to Jimin and Hoseok, his face pale with anxiety. “Guys, I need to go.”

“Is it serious?” Hoseok asked, his worry prominent in his unsettled gaze.

“The doctors said he’ll be okay, but he’s not waking up. I have to... I have to be with him.”

“Come on,” Jimin uttered soothingly as he wrapped an arm around his form. “We’ll drive you there.”

“Thanks.”

They hurried out of the park and into Jimin’s car, the stormy clouds above them a constant company. Taehyung’s mind bristled with thoughts of Jungkook, his unease increasing consistently.

The car seemed to move too slowly, even though Jimin drove as fast as he could through the packed streets of Seoul. Every minute felt like an eternity until they finally arrived at their destination.

Taehyung thanked his friends, telling them he would call later to inform them of his condition, and rushed inside. His heart kept pounding with urgency as he sought out information about Jungkook’s room at the front desk. Once given the needed information by the nurse, he scuttled away, his quick steps wobbling.

Locating the room number, Taehyung drew in a deep breath before knocking on the door. His stomach churned with nervousness as he pushed it open and stepped into the room where Jungkook lay, surrounded by medical equipment and hooked up to monitors. Despite his pale appearance, Taehyung felt a flicker of relief wash over him at the sight of Jungkook breathing steadily.

“Taehyungie oppa,” Jiyu murmured, hurrying towards him. She sneaked into his embrace, clutching him with a hint of desperation.

“Hey, baby girl.” Taehyung cradled her and directed a disquieted look to Sung Ryung, who was sitting beside Jungkook’s unmoving body. “Hi, Sung Ryung-ssi.”

“Hello,” Sung Ryung replied, rising to envelop Taehyung in a comforting hug.

Taehyung returned the embrace briefly before pulling back, his eyes searching Sung Ryung’s face. “What happened?”

Sung Ryung shook her head subtly, a silent signal of her inability to explain the situation with Jiyu in the room. She glanced towards her daughter, who stood beside Taehyung, her usually bright face now clouded over with concern.

“He fell and hit his head. Right, mom?” Jiyu interjected, her voice tinged with sadness.

Sung Ryung hesitated before nodding. “Yes. He should have been more careful, but it’s okay. He’ll be fine.”

“Hey, sweetie.” Taehyung crouched down in front of Jiyu with a reassuring smile. “Do you want to listen to another one of my favorite songs?”

A faint smile began to overtake Jiyu’s lips at the mention of music, but it quickly burned off as a thought crossed her mind. “You want to talk to my mom without me listening, right? That’s what you did the last time when you wanted to talk to Jungkookie oppa.”

“I hate that you’re so smart sometimes,” Taehyung teased, ruffling her silky soft hair. “Yes, love. You’re right. I want to talk to her about her business, which means boring stuff. Don’t you prefer listening to some music?”

As Jiyu nodded cutely, Taehyung slipped the headphones over her ears and played a random song. He adjusted the volume, ensuring it wasn’t too loud for her, then spun around to meet Sung Ryung’s gaze. “Tell me now.”

“Are you sure she’s not listening?” Sung Ryung asked, her eyes flicking over to her daughter, who was now bobbing her head rhythmically to the music, a smile etched on her face.

“Yes.”

Sung Ryung inhaled a stuttering breath, her expression darkened with distress. “They attacked the businessman he was protecting. Jungkook fought with the attacker, but he slammed his head against the wall. Jungkook continued fighting and managed to restrain him. Then he passed out, and he hasn’t regained consciousness since then.”

Taehyung’s heart rattled against its walls again just as the rapid pulse had gentled a notch. “Who told you all that?”

“The businessman. He came with Jungkook in the ambulance.”

Taehyung soaked in the news tacitly as the severity of the situation settled over him. “Does he have a concussion?”

“It’s possible. Thankfully, his MRI didn’t show any internal bleeding. He just needs rest.”

Taehyung’s eyes, soaked in a vile blend of sadness and consternation fixed on Jungkook’s placid face. It was as if an invisible string had been looped around him, pulling him closer, compelling him to sit on the edge of the bed. A fierce battle of contemplation broke out within him as his gaze tumbled to Jungkook’s unmoving hand. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he placed his palm over it, holding it in the gentlest of ways.

Sung Ryung approached him with plodding steps, observing him through melancholic eyes. “Do you still love him?”

Taehyung dragged his head down as tears beaded along his lower lids, threatening to spill over. His chest felt so heavy, as if a rock had landed on it, crushing him under its unbearable heft. He struggled to find his voice as he strove to contain his emotions.

“How can I... not love him?” Taehyung whispered. The words were torn from his heart, laden with a past of shared moments, promises, and an unyielding bond that time could never truly sever.

“I know he hurt you immensely,” Sung Ryung uttered. “But he never stopped loving you, Taehyung.”

“I know.”

Sung Ryung’s eyes enlarged with surprise that stole her words for a moment. “You... You do? He said you don’t believe him.”

“I’m still hurt. That’s why I said it.” A short trickle of hot tears slid down Taehyung’s cheeks as he let his sorrowful eyes rest on Jungkook again. “I know he had to leave for some reason. And I know for sure he didn’t want to leave me.”

“Then why are you so mean to him?”

“Because the last five years... I was dead,” Taehyung said, an involuntary drawl of heartbreak seeping through the edges of his inflection. “I wasn’t living. I couldn’t live. Without him. I hate him for this. I hate him so much. But I can’t stop loving him either.”

“Do you think he could live without you? He was a wreck—”

“He left me,” Taehyung cut her off, his voice suddenly harsh. “Whatever the reason, he left me and cut any contact with me. I don’t care if he suffered. He chose it.” His words sifted through the stifling air, ponderous with lingering pain and resentment. The memories of countless sleepless nights, haunted by Jungkook’s absence, clawed at his mind. Each day had been a struggle — his life was incomplete, shattered by the unexpected loss of the person who had meant everything to him.

“I tried to move on,” Taehyung continued in the same listless tune. “But it didn’t work out. It can never work out.”

“Taehyung, if you knew—”

“But I don’t know,” Taehyung interjected again with a sharpness that rooted in the abyss of pain within him. “I don’t know because he’s not telling me. And I’m done waiting for him. I waited two years. The other three I just... existed. And now I’ll live. Without him.”

“Then why are you here?” Sung Ryung asked with the same intensity. “Why are you beside his hospital bed, holding his hand?”

“I told you. I know him my whole life. I can’t just not care and forget him.”

“Can you give him time? Just a few more days,” Sung Ryung pleaded, her voice softening as she reached out to caress his shoulder.

“Taehyungie oppa,” Jiyu uttered as she scuttled closer, removing the headphones from her head. “The song ended.”

“It’s okay. We’re done talking,” Taehyung replied, tucking the headphones into his bag and swiftly drying the wetness from his cheeks, not wanting Jiyu to worry.

Sung Ryung released a subdued sigh. “I’ll go get some coffee. Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you,” Taehyung said.

“I want juice,” Jiyu chirped.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

As Sung Ryung walked away, Taehyung turned his attention back to Jiyu, who was now climbing onto the spacious bed beside him. He drew a hand closer, carding his fingers through her hair, his heart melting at her wide, curious eyes.

“Oppa. Why did you cry?” Jiyu asked, her voice gentle as she cupped Taehyung’s face with her small hand, inspecting his reddened eyes from up close.

Taehyung’s chest tightened at her question. “I’m just worried about Jungkookie.”

“Me too,” she pouted. Then, an abrupt idea sparked hope in her eyes. “If you give him a kiss, will he wake up?”

A chuckle escaped Taehyung’s lips, a quiet sound tinged with surprise. “No, baby. That’s not how it works.”

“You don’t know if you don’t try it.”

“I can’t just kiss him while he’s sleeping, Jiyu-yah.”

“Why?” Jiyu whined, her eyes drooping at the corners. “Jungkookie wants your kisses, anyway. He won’t mind.”

Every shred of mild palliation caused by Jiyu’s cuteness fizzled into shock. Taehyung’s brows flitted up, standing in two high curves of astonishment at her words. “He... He what?”

“He told me he was sad because he wants your hugs and kisses and you don’t want to give them to him.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Please make him happy, oppa.”

Still mired in a pool of dumbfoundedness, Taehyung blinked at her as he dove into a winding cogitation. It was so wrong to kiss him while he was sleeping — without his consent — on so many levels. And how could he just pull away after getting a tiny taste of his lips? He didn’t think it was possible.

“Please, oppa,” Jiyu murmured, her doe eyes glittering in desperation, as she clutched his forearm.

Taehyung gulped, suddenly feeling his throat dry. His heart flew into a galloping frenzy only at the thought, the rapid pulse squeaking in his ears. “Pro—Promise you won’t look?”

“Yes!” Jiyu immediately turned her back to him, clasping her hands as if in prayer.

Taehyung scooted a bit more upwards, propping his elbow on the pillow beside Jungkook’s head. He gazed down at him, a prick of anxiousness dancing all around his eyes, as his stomach shriveled and fluttered.

“Did you do it?”

“No, w-wait a minute,” Taehyung breathed out. A second round of vacillation launched within him, desires battling against restraints. Jungkook’s face was so peaceful, almost ethereal under the dim lights, his lips slightly parted. Taehyung remembered those lips, the way they used to curve into a smile that could light up his darkest days. He remembered their softness, their sweetness, their warmth, as if he had kissed him just yesterday.

Taehyung’s hand trembled as he brushed a stray lock of hair from Jungkook’s forehead. The touch was so familiar, yet now it felt like he was handling something precious, something that could fracture at any moment. He closed his eyes, taking an uneven breath to steady himself.

Taehyung leaned closer, the distance between their lips shrinking with each heartbeat. His breath tangled with Jungkook’s airy, lilac fragrance. His lips hovered just above Jungkook’s, hesitation rooting him in place.

A peck and that’s it. With this thought and a final, shaky breath, Taehyung closed the gap, pressing his mouth softly to Jungkook’s. It was a delicate kiss, just his lips slotting with Jungkook’s unmoving ones in a loving caress. Time seemed to freeze, the surrounding world ceasing to exist. For that brief moment, it was just the two of them, stranded in a timeless touch.

His heart flailed harder in his chest, as if it was a little bird locked in a cage and struggling to break free. He craved for more — his soul thirsted to kiss him properly, feel more of him, but he couldn’t give in. Taehyung’s other hand moved of its own accord to cradle Jungkook’s cheek. The warmth of his skin under Taehyung’s fingers clashed with the cold anxiety that had grasped every part of him. So many emotions shrouded him during that brief touch of their lips, and he couldn’t bear them any longer.

Taehyung pulled back, a sharp outflow of air whooshing out of him as if he had been underwater. He straightened his posture at a creep, viewing Jungkook’s tranquil face. “I... I did it,” he whispered. “But as I said, it doesn’t work this way.”

Jiyu twirled to face them, already pouting hard at his words. “If your kiss didn’t wake him up, I don’t know what will.”

“He needs rest, angel,” Taehyung said, his growling pulse still drumming around his intoxicated senses. “When he gets enough rest from his deep sleep, he’ll wake up.”

The door creaked open and Sung Ryung stepped into the room. She passed the juice to her daughter and smiled as Jiyu thanked her, kissing her forehead.

Taehyung cleared his throat, the mild heat on his cheeks from his actions lingering. “Um, I’ll leave now. Don’t tell him I came to see him.”

“Taehyungie oppa! Lying is bad,” Jiyu scolded, then sipped her juice.

“Please do it for me? And I promise I’ll buy you tons of your favorite lollipops.”

Jiyu’s eyes grew double their size in elation, her beam glowing on her face. “Yes, please! Okay.”

Taehyung chuckled softly, planting a delicate kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, sweetie. Bye, Sung Ryung-ssi.”

“You don’t want me to call you when he wakes up?”

“No,” Taehyung said as he pushed himself off his seat. “Since his MRI was clean, I know he’ll be fine. Bye.” He cast one last glance at Jungkook, the feeling of their lips pressed together still wandering inside him like a pleasant yet torturous mist.

Taehyung turned around and shuffled towards the exit, his movements cumbersome. With each step, he felt like he was leaving behind a piece of himself, a fragment of his soul that would forever belong to Jungkook. The memory of their kiss blazed in the air, searing into his mind and heart, a reminder of the consuming love they had shared, now tainted with the acidic taste of reality.

Maybe... Maybe the touch of their lips felt so torturous because it was a goodbye. A goodbye to everything they had lived together. It was the end of an era, a chapter in his life closing with a force that left him breathless and aching.

He couldn’t wait any longer. The uncertainty, the secrets, the lies, the endless cycle of hope and despair, had worn him down. His heart couldn’t take any more pain, any more craving for a future that seemed increasingly out of reach.

He had to let go now, even though knowing that healing would be impossible and only scars would remain.

🥀

The wreath of unconsciousness that enclosed Jungkook relented piece by piece, allowing his eyelids to flutter. His fingers twitched, and a soft, almost inaudible sigh escaped his lips.

“Jungkook?” Sung Ryung uttered as she rose from her seat, her voice a mix of hope and anticipation.

Jungkook’s eyes opened, dazed and unfocused but gradually sharpening. He blinked a few times, taking in the room, and settled his attention on his mother. “Hey.”

Jiyu let out a joyful cry, exploding out of her seat and rushing to her oppa’s side, her eyes wide with wonder and happiness. She grabbed Jungkook’s hand, her small fingers squeezing tightly. “Oppa, you’re awake!”

Jungkook’s gaze shifted to his sister, a weak smile forming on his lips. “Hey, baby girl,” he croaked out, then cleared his throat to dispel some of the hoarseness.

“How are you feeling?” Sung Ryung asked.

“Weak. But okay. And... weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a really weird dream,” Jungkook murmured, his eyes unfocused as he tried to recall the details.

Sung Ryung’s brows pulled together in bewilderment. “What did you see?”

“I saw that Taehyung was here. I felt his lips on mine. He kissed me so sweetly.”

A notion of awkwardness attempted to steal into Sung Ryung’s gaze, though she batted it away quickly. “That’s a very weird dream indeed.”

“So he really didn’t come here?” Jungkook asked, his voice now carrying its usual strength and hue. His eyes flung to Jiyu, noticing how she held her chin close to her chest to avoid eye contact.

“No, Jungkookie,” Sung Ryung said.

“Jiyu-yah.”

Her harried eyes flitted all around the floor, each one of her heartbeats becoming stronger. “What?”

“Did Taehyungie drop by?”

Jiyu shifted uncomfortably, her small frame tensing further under her oppa’s scrutinizing view. “No,” she said, but her voice wavered, betraying the truth.

“Jiyu-yah,” Jungkook said in a tone as gentle as rose petals. “What have we said about lies? And especially between you and me.”

A deep pout burst onto Jiyu’s face at once, her eyes sparkling with tears, as the walls of her fragile composure crumbled. She sneaked her way into his hug, latching onto him. “I’m sorry, oppa. Don’t be mad at me.”

Fondness raised the tips of Jungkook’s lips as he traced loving lines on her back with his palm. “I won’t be mad if you tell me everything that happened when I was sleeping.”

Jiyu unburied her head, lifting her petite body to a sitting position. “Taehyungie oppa called me. I told him you were in the hospital and he came here. He gave me his headphones and talked to our mom for a while. Then mom went to get some coffee, and I asked Taehyung to kiss you because I thought that would wake you up.”

Jungkook’s heart pranced, a rush of emotions flooding him at once. Warmth, hope, confusion — they all battled for dominance. “So... it wasn’t a dream?”

“No,” Jiyu said with a shake of her head.

A stunned silence filled the room. Jungkook’s mind galloped, trying to process the revelation. The dream hadn’t been a dream at all. The memory of Taehyung’s kiss lingered on his lips, now imbued with the touch of reality.

“He didn’t want to do it at first,” Jiyu started quietly, “but I told him you were sad because you wanted his hugs and kisses and he didn’t give them to you and I asked him to make you happy.”

Instant alarm descended upon Jungkook, his embarrassment gnawing at him as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Jiyu-yah...” he murmured, holding back a mild rebuke for divulging everything to Taehyung. As he looked at Jiyu’s persistent pout, his embarrassment ebbed away; after all, it wasn’t really a secret. He had been confessing his feelings to Taehyung every time they met since his return. “And he asked you to tell me he didn’t come here?”

“Yes. He said he’ll buy me tons of lollipops.”

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook said, tugging her into his embrace again. “I’ll buy you more.”

“You’re the best, oppa!”

Giggling at her cuteness, Jungkook caressed her back and darted his eyes to his mother. “What did you talk about with him, mom?”

“I just told him how you got hurt.”

“And they talked about business stuff, right, mom?” Jiyu chimed in.

“Right, sweetie.”

Two knocks on the door drew everyone’s attention, and Sung Ryung smiled upon seeing her best friend enter with her daughter.

“Bomin-ah,” Jiyu shrieked as she made haste to get off the bed and hug her friend.

“Hey,” Jeoan said as she engulfed Sung Ryung in a brief but warm hug, then turned to look at Jungkook. “How are you, Jungkookie?”

“My head hurts a bit, but it’s okay. It’ll pass,” Jungkook replied, attempting a reassuring smile to mask the dull throb in his temples.

“I thought so, and that’s why I’m here,” Jeoan smiled. “I’ll take the girls to the playground so you can have some quiet.”

“Thank you, Jeoan-ssi,” Jungkook said, his voice tinted with gratitude for her kindness and thoughtfulness.

“Will you come with us?” Jeoan asked, glancing at her friend.

“Yes—”

“Mom,” Jungkook interjected, giving her a strict, knowing look.

Sung Ryung inspected the determination carved on her son’s face and sighed softly, recognizing what was hidden in the intensity of his gaze. “I’ll come find you soon. Go ahead.”

“Okay. Let’s go, girls.” Jeoan grabbed their small hands, creating a chain with her in the middle, and led them out of the room. Jiyu and Bomin chatted excitedly as they left, their voices fading into the hallway.

As the door closed behind them, Sung Ryung’s chest fell with another sigh. She perched on the edge of Jungkook’s bed, sadness twinkling in her eyes like two faraway stars. She took his hand in hers, her touch gentle yet filled with worry. “Jungkookie... Taehyung can’t wait for you anymore. And honestly, I don’t blame him. Why can’t you just tell him the truth now?”

Jungkook looked away, his jaw tightening as he wrestled with the emotions her words stirred. “Woosung has to tell him the truth.”

“You’ll lose him for good, son. I think... you already have.”

His eyes, now wide with apprehension, rushed to Sung Ryung, searching her face for answers. The sorrow pouring out of her gaze was like a black hole, pulling him into its depths and alarming him. His heart rate spiked, the beeping of the monitors intensifying. “What?” he whispered, his voice vulnerable and shaky, a chaos of disbelief and dread.

Sung Ryung’s grip on his hand firmed up in a squeeze of comfort. “He said he waited for you for two years. The other three he just existed. And now he’ll live without you.”

“No, no, that—that can’t happen,” Jungkook stammered, an ever-increasing panic threatening to suffocate him. Every inch of his body twitched as he hurried to straighten his posture, attempting to slide out of bed.

Sung Ryung struggled to hold him still, her grip firm but delicate as she tried to prevent him from moving. “What are you doing? You can’t leave, Jungkook. You’re hurt.”

“I don’t care,” Jungkook insisted, his voice growing desperate and frantic, mirroring his movements. His eyes were wild with terror, his breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts, as he shoved her hands away. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, but a shock of dizziness conquered him, causing him to collapse back onto the mattress.

“Jungkookie,” Sung Ryung pleaded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, as she held onto his shoulder. “Please lie down. You’ll talk to him tomorrow. Okay?”

Jungkook’s resistance slowly crumbled under the assault of black spots swirling in his vision. He slumped back against the pillows and let his eyes close, willing the world to stop spinning. “I can’t lose him, mom,” he released between ragged breaths. “I can’t.”

“I know, baby. I know,” Sung Ryung murmured, her voice breaking as she stroked his hair soothingly.

Jungkook’s breathing steadied, the beeping of the monitors slowing along with his calming heart rate. The desperation within him began to melt into a weary resignation, the fight leaving his body as exhaustion took over.

As the room fell into a heavy silence, Sung Ryung continued to hold his hand, her thumb tracing soothing circles on his skin. She watched over him, her heart aching for the pain and fear her son was experiencing. She wished she could take it all away, but all she could do was offer her silent support.

Jungkook’s thoughts slipped back to Taehyung, the image of his face, the lingering sensation of his kiss, the soothing lilt of his voice. He clung to these memories like a lifeline, hoping they would give him the strength he needed. Hoping he could feel him close again.

Hoping Taehyung wouldn’t give up on him just yet.

───⭒───༺🖤༻───⭒───

I bet you didn't expect the kiss🤭 But it actually was a goodbye from Taehyung... When I said slow burn I meant it, hehe 😇