Deary blazes consumed her as she gawked at the spectacle unfurling. The stannic pitch of her lighter echoed in the office along with the symphony of hefty sleet and thunder.

When Jimin surged behind Chohee, Leona was instantly restless. She was smoldering as now they both were strutting in the rain.

Like an idiot man he was, he caught up with Chohee to give her the umbrella and they were talking about something intense, standing right in front of Leona's view.

Leona leaned on the window rim, attentively watching them. "She doesn't deserve him. That she accepted the umbrella and only shielded herself, leaving him to get drenched, pretty much proves it."

So don't you.

She titter at her agitating subconscious mind as frustratedly drove his fingers through his hair, and said something to Chohee, who vigorously shook her head.

Leona illuminated the third cigarette and just then Chohee treaded towards Jimin and forced a kiss, dropping the umbrella on the ground.

"Woah! Woah! Woah." Leona cackled at her nerve, smoke spirling around her like a viper ready to pummel. She crumpled the burning cigarette with her hand, slightly hissing at the burning sensation.

Jimin gently pushed Chohee away, taking a rung back and that's when the flames inside Leona soothe down. 

"Baby boy grew up," she whispered, smiling.

Jimin may have or hadn't said something to her, but the woman threw a word or two and turned away, leaving him standing alone. Oh, and she made sure to take the umbrella.

Jimin abode in his place, getting soaked in the harsh weather. 

"Should I go down with an umbrella?" she asked herself. "Or I shouldn't?"

She let another minute slide but the rainfall trickled on the land boisterously, the sky breaking into scattered thunders. But Jimin dwelled there motionless.

"Why bother? He's already drenched." She shrugged and right then Jimin waddled. She could tell he was heeding a call, but a second later the man break into a full sprint, trotting faster than the lights.

"Uh-huh, where is he going?" Leona frowned as Jimin drifted to the main entrance of the building, dashing out. Is he going to her? And why that's bothering me so much?

The office door burst open, startling Leona as Chul scurried in with a concerned look. He nodded at her and darted to Jimin's desk, looking for something desperately.

"Where he ran to?" she asked before she could stop herself. Something about Chul's demeanor expressed that something bad happened. Chul heaved his anxious gaze and gulped before speaking.

"Hospital."

.

.

.

What if.

The power these two words held is deadly. So corrupted, so harsh that we die slowly in the burden of these words.

The words were fiddling with his mind, playing cruel games. What if he couldn't make it on time? What if she couldn't hold on a little more? What if she gave up fighting? What if fate decided to ditch him? What if he couldn't save her? What if she...

"No," he grumbled under his cool breath and the chill water whacked on his skin like pellets.

Twenty minutes of intense run and Jimin burst into the hospital, steering to the O.R. Even though he was trying not to bump into anyone, he did but was too deflected by the apprehension to mutter an apology. 

He caught a glimpse of his father slumped on the wall in front of the O.R and his heart plummetted. "Dad," he panted, stumbling towards him. Hanwool heaved his teary gaze and closed his eyes in agony. 

Jimin peeked through the round glass, witnessing doctors operating on his mother. She was tangled in numerous wires, laying lifeless. The bile of acrimony rose in his throat and his legs gave up as he was too tired to stand and bear the pain. 

Hot tears welled up in his eyes as he buried his face in his hands, shaking and gasping for breaths. "Not her."

He felt the comforting hand of his father squeezing his shoulder but he knew that Hanwool was demolishing inside. Only if he could be as strong as his father to see the woman he loved the most suffering that distress.

"She's going to be okay. She promised to be here with me and you for this new year, and the next many new years. She will fight it and win. She is our warrior," Hanwool's voice was thick with emotions.

That's the problem. Warriors fight for others, but forget to fight for themselves.

Jimin drew a shaky breath, tears slashing down his cheek as he stood and aggressively wiped his face. He couldn't even look at his father cause he was remorseful and helpless. He wanted to protect his mother so bad, but he was failing. What type of son I am.

One of the doctors step out and Jimin rushed to him along with his father. Before they could ask, the doctor explained, "We can't say anything right now. The internal bleeding is excessive a-"

"W-what? What do you mean by you can't say anything? She'll be fine, right" Hanwool impatiently threw a question, almost shaking.

The look of pity saturating the doctor's face swallowed Jimin in the chasm of misery. The doctor didn't give them false hopes and asserted, "We are working, please be strong. I need to get going, excuse me."

The blue knots in his stomach crunched taut, yanking the chains of his heart. He was drowning and drowning with every tick of the clock and found it impossible to breathe. The white walls of demise appeared to be nearing, imprisoning him, heckling him, suffocating him. One look at his father, and he knew he couldn't stand this. He couldn't face the pain, he couldn't face his father being conk out in front of him.

He swerved and sprinted away ignoring the calls of his father. Label him a wimp, but for Jimin, the only thing the man couldn't bear was the tears of his loved ones. 

.

.

.

Thereupon the three hours of numbness, Jimin found himself on the rooftop of his office. It had been his safe place from the age of thirteen; when he first stepped into the company to commence learning. 

The thunderbolts cracked up the murky blanket and the heavy rain proceeded to benumbed him, and his gashes. His breaths were shallow, and his eyes stared at the glittering city. He settled his head on the glass barrier, recalling the best days with his mother.

His mother was teaching him the difference between primary and secondary colors, but the eight-year-old Jimin was pouting. His legs dangled down the huge stool and he stared at the roller skates. He wanted to skate so bad in the cloudy weather.

Seren pinched his nose to get his attention and made him whine. He puffed his cheeks, giving him his puppy dog eyes. If his father could give puppy dog eyes and get away from almost burning the house, he too can. 

"Jimin," His mother ruffled his hair. "Pay attention. Saturday is art day, no games, no skates, no playground."

"I want to play. I have a group meeting with Jungkook, Hoseok, Chohee, and Dalia" He protested.

"Umm, Chohee, now I see why my boy wants to ditch me," his mother feign her sadness, and Jimin shook his head.

"Mum! You know that's not true."

Seren arched her brows. "Really?"

Jimin nodded with a toothy grin. "You are my priority." He dramatically bowed. "It's my privilege to be with you, precious."

"Oh my, you are learning new and heavy words. Smartypants, don't butter my butt. You have to pay attention," she ruffled his hair, and little Jimin swat her hand away.

"Maa! I spend hours setting them! You ruined it, meanie."

Seren laughed, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek, knowing how much he feels disgusted to have her lipstick mark. Soon their sweet talk turned mischievous when Seren splashed paint with him. Jimin yelped but found when he found his mother laughing, holding her stomach, he splashed it back. The pair begin rolling, running, and laughing with paints, giving a show to the whole neighborhood.

"She was so happy. Yes, she use to nag me, but I adored listening to her scoldings. I don't mind hearing them for my whole life," Jimin murmured to himself, feeling lost. 

He didn't know what to do, or who to talk to, but he wanted someone to hold him. Hold him tight so he wouldn't splinter into chunks. Just a sliver of hope was keeping him sane. All these four years, his mother was assuring him that he would be fine after she rest in peace. He would get over her death, he would move on.

But there's no such thing as getting over a person. It's a delusion.

We could never wipe out a person whose name we eternally scream when we are in discomfort. We could just move on, but they will live forever and ever in a golden place inside us.

"And there you are," her voice was like honey melding with cotton clouds. As if she heard him talking and came running for him.

When he looked at her, he felt the turmoil within him decompress. What an irony cause the woman looking at him was herself a turmoil.

"Did you lose your fucking mind?" she shrieked over the downpour. She was pissed, or her voice confided him that she was. Leona seized hostile strides towards him, the enormous ruddy umbrella lurking in her frame. 

The umbrella isn't black....how?

"You know how worried Wes and your father are right now? Wes and Ryan are looking for you across the town, you idiot man! There's something known as a phone. You pick it up when it rings. Honestly, have you heard about the device? Like a shitty peacock, you are standing in rain an-" she was going and going, already in front of him.

She sheltered him from the heavy drizzle, getting drenched herself.

Her face was flared in anger, but her exquisite eyes were glistening with concern. She was worried sick, and the way her lip twitched confirmed it. He couldn't heed her nagging, he was staring at her.

"Are you even listening to me right now? You are so infuriating, Jimin. I am considering slapping you hard so you br-"

Jimin pulled her by her waist and dropped his head on her shoulder. Just like that her words diluted in her throat. He felt her tenderness, and how she quit breathing as if it was a sin. He learned that he didn't want just anyone to hold him, but her. 

"You have three seconds to let go. One, two-"

"Just a minute. Just give me sixty seconds, I promise," he uttered, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. She didn't protest.

"The last time you promised ten minutes at the lilac valley, you broke it," Leona whispered, but her hand came to a rest on his arms, and the soothing tingles spread through his body.

"I lied," he confessed, hugging her tighter, tilting and hushing up his face in the crook of her neck. "Even now I am lying." 

Leona sighed, deliberately draping her arm around his shoulder and allowing him to snuggle into her. "I will believe your lies for the last time."

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