Six hundred and twenty-one seconds. Jiah managed to pull her phone out with fingers trembling, ringing 119 and holding it against her ear.

She tried her best to answer all the operator's questions, hands clasped around Taehyung's jaw as she rubbed little circles into his skin.

Her world was falling apart.

And she didn't know how else to hold onto the little bit of her universe she had as he slipped through her fingers.

Gripping tighter to him, she continued to answer the questions asked.

And finally, Jiah was told to stay on the line and bask in the silence as the paramedics were on their way.

A silence that only allowed her mind to make monsters of her thoughts.

But she deserved it.

She deserved all of this.

Taehyung didn't.

—

Three thousand five hundred and ninety-three seconds.

Jimin sprinted through the hospital doors, hot on Jiah's tail when he found her.

"What happened?" his face was so close to breaking, he was so close to crying, "Where's Taehyung? What's this about getting stabbed? What's this about life-threatening surgery?"

Jiah couldn't answer any questions. She felt so fucking dumb.

All she could do was watch Taehyung's best friend crumble into the seat next to her, eyes well with tears he would not shed, lips chewed to the point that it might have bled too. All from the pain she caused.

—

Fifteen thousand three hundred and thirty-one seconds.

The doctor had come in and out three times, each time approaching Jimin to talk about Taehyung's state while Jimin would try to explain it all to her afterwards.

A relay game in which no one really was paying attention.

Jiah didn't know what was happening with Taehyung and she just wished she could do something to help. But all she could do was listen to the doctor or Jimin feed her words she didn't understand, giving her empty promises she didn't believe.

—

Twenty-one thousand six hundred and four seconds. Jiah was tapping her toes against the tile, counting.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

It had been around five hours since the doctor had told Jiah that they had finished evaluating Taehyung's wound and was ready to have him in surgery.

But to her, it felt like an eternity.

He had been blabbing on about some abdominal cavity penetration, and how it just missed his diaphragm, however, everything was just background noise to her.

All she wanted to ask was if he was going to live; can you save him? But her mouth just wasn't opening to speak; she couldn't form words.

This was all happening because of her; she was so fucking selfish.

"So, will he be alright? Will he be okay?" luckily Jimin was next to her to steady her, to ask the questions pounding in her head.

"Fortunately, the knife didn't touch any important organs so we must stop the bleeding, it doesn't look like we need a transfusion at this stage, he really should be fine as long as we operate on him as soon as possible."

Bringing her hands to bury her head in them, she paused.

The tears didn't even need much time to start pouring down her face as she stared at the red stains sketched over her fingers. She had so many peoples' blood on her hands, and now she had Taehyung's as well.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," the profanities rushed out of her involuntarily, she had Taehyung's blood on her hands.

If he died, she killed him.

She killed him.

The groan escaped her then, as she threw her head back, the tears not stopping.

"Guys," a quiet voice interrupted the silence in the hall and Jiah opened her eyes to see Jungkook walk over, a plastic bag in each hand.

He had never looked as small as he did now.

"Please eat something. You're both going to need an operating room yourselves."

Both Jimin and Jiah shook their heads, "Thank you Jungkook," Jimin spoke, "but I'd rather wait a bit. Thank you, though."

"Jiah?"

She simply shook her head, not able to say anything more.

Jungkook sighed, taking a seat between the two of them, "The doctor said he's going to be fine," he repeated what he'd heard earlier, "he's going to live, okay guys?"

And without saying anything more, Jungkook took both Jiah and Jimin's hands in his own.

Giving them a small squeeze, they continued to sit in silence, staring at the door to the operating room.

Helpless but hopeful.

--

Twenty-seven thousand six hundred and fifty-seven seconds.

A nurse had come waddling down to the three of them, Jungkook being the only one to stand.

It may have seemed offensive to anyone else, but both Jiah and Jimin were waiting for one person and one person only.

If the health professional wasn't walking out of those doors with Taehyung's medical charts in hand, they weren't interested.

"For the surgery, we need a guardian to sign the paperwork," her words blurred into clarity, "Because it is the second surgery he's having today."

Jiah's ears perked up. Second?

Immediately, she was at the nurse's side, looking down at the papers.

"D-Do you uh-" she managed to croak, but before she could offer much help, Jimin was standing too.

"I'm his guardian," he said tiredly, "Where do you need me to sign?"

Jiah's gaze fell, resenting herself yet again.

Why could she not do anything to help?

Once Jimin was done, he flopped back down into his seat.

"He's-" he started to whisper, and Jiah sensed the change in Jungkook's manner as well, "he's going to be alright, right?"

Jiah had been holding on so well the last couple of hours, but seeing Jimin this way made her walls fall. She fell into the seat next to him.

"Fuck, I can't do anything without him," Jimin admitted, "I can't, oh God I can't-"

Bending down, he buried his head in his hands - an attempt to hide the way he cried.

But they both saw it clearly. And it only worsened Jiah's state.

Not only had she endangered Taehyung's life, but in doing so, she was hurting Jimin, too.

Jungkook placed a gentle hand on Jimin's knee, and another hand stroking his hair.

The actions were so simple, yet seemed to pull Jimin in a state of comfort. Something he must have needed, for it turned his crying into soft sobs.

"It's okay," Jungkook whispered, "I'm here. We're here. It's going to be okay."

Jungkook, the man who didn't know how to look after himself giving someone else the care that they desperately needed.

--

Thirty-two thousand three hundred and fifty-three seconds. Jiah probably had no tears left to cry for the rest of her life.

At some point in the last hour or so, Jungkook had gone off again to get something to eat, leaving the two of them alone again.

Jiah had no idea how Jimin wasn't getting ready to shoot her down, his version of the stab wound Taehyung had sustained because of her.

He, no doubt, was furious about the hurt his best friend had to endure.

So how was he sitting next to her, not saying a word?

While a thousand different apologies were running through her own head, she just wanted this all to stop.

"Jimin I'm so sor-"

"Jiah," his voice was calm, but not void of anger, "Let's not do this right now. Please."

Closing her mouth, she turned back to the white door.

And realised she was wrong; she definitely had more tears to cry.

--

Thirty-five thousand nine hundred and ninety-two seconds. She was still counting.

This time, the doctor that burst out of the door in front of them was the one from before. When his eyes lay on the three adults in front of him, he headed straight for them.

They stood up without a second to spare, running forward and meeting him halfway.

Jimin's mouth was open, about to ask him a flood of questions, but the doctor bet him to it.

"Your friend's surgery was a success."

Simultaneously, the three of them let go of a deep sigh, save for Jimin who finally let the tears he'd been holding in the past few hours flow out.

"He's okay?" lips trembling, he asked, reaching out for the doctor's hands. "He's really okay?"

The man in front of him offered Jimin a small smile, nodding, "He just needs to be watched for a week at the least in case the wound opens up again, he shouldn't move around too much, but then we can discharge him at the end of the week."

"Can we see him?" Jungkook asked, knowing that would be Jimin's next question and the doctor nodded again.

"But please make sure he's not overexerting himself," was the last thing the two of them heard before they rushed past him, following the nurse who was carrying Taehyung's medical charts to his room.

Jungkook had stayed back a few seconds to convey their thanks, making sure the doctor knew how grateful they all were.

Jimin was the first one in the room, as soon as the doors opened. He had his hands shoved into his pockets, his typical I-don't-want-you-to-know-how-much-I-care look, as he paused next to the bed.

The nurse had told them that his anaesthesia was slowly wearing off and that he might be asleep for a little while longer but would wake up soon.

But that was no problem because when Jimin stopped next to his bed, Taehyung seemed to sense him somehow.

"Hey, idiot," a smile was playing on Taehyung's lips as he whispered, eyes still closed.

"Me idiot?" Jimin asked, incredulous, "You're the idiot, idiot!"

"Thanks for coming," he continued, "Man, that hurts."

Instantly, the sparkle in Jimin's eyes reduced to cold copper, quickly pulling a chair and sitting down.

"Do you want me to call the doctor? What hurts? Is it bleeding again? Did they not-"

Finally, Taehyung opened his eyes slowly, turning over on his pillow to look at his best friend.

"I'm okay, Jimin," he reassured him, "I'm so sorry for scaring you like this."

"Yeah," he huffed, "You're not going anywhere without me, you know that right? Don't ever forget. Wherever you go, I'm following."

--

Thirty-seven thousand seven hundred and ninety-one seconds.

Walls.

It didn't take too long for her walls to start building themselves up again, a master architect at work.

She didn't walk into Taehyung's hospital room, and she was sure she wouldn't.

She couldn't.

Her eyes flickered to the glass window across the hall, catching sight of her state.

Taehyung's blood was splattered across the white of her top, her body a canvas for the sick artwork the mafia intended to paint.

The sick game they were playing.

Jungkook had forcefully washed the blood from her arms and hands.

But she still felt it.

While he didn't die, she could feel his blood still there, the stain permanent.

It would never wash out.

And she was terrified of what that would mean.

—

Thirty-eight thousand five hundred and seventy-three seconds.

Remember those walls that Jiah had somehow built?

When Jimin opened the door to Taehyung's hospital room, it was as if he'd brought in a bulldozer and smashed every last brick she had put up again.

Through the open door, she made eye contact with the man lying helplessly on the bed as he craned his neck to try to look outside. To try to look for her.

The walls crumbled, just like that.

One step and she was inside, their eyes meeting instantly. And just like every other time they ever looked at each other, the whole world ceased to exist.

"Where were you?" his voice was so soft, so fragile that she could only wince.

"A-Are you o-okay? Are y-you feeling okay?" her own voice sounded like she was only just learning to speak. Like she hadn't spent the last twenty-four years stringing letters together to form words, stringing words together to make sentences. She didn't know how to talk.

She tried not to collapse at the sight of him. He was hooked up to an IV, bandages around his waist visible through the buttons of his hospital gown, hair touseled and sticking up in all sorts of places and cheeks utterly void of life - and she didn't even know that was possible.

"Sit," he croaked out again, patting the bed with the hand absent of the IV needle.

Jiah took a full five seconds to pull herself from her trance, eyes darting to his again, tears escaping in the process.

"Sweetheart, come here," he whispered upon seeing her cry, "Look, I'm fine!"

She finally obliged, plonking herself down on the space next to him, only to scan him with greater depth.

Without thinking, her fingers went straight to his hair, threading themselves through his locks, brushing it down. The gorgeous, walnut hair which never had a flaw in them looking so out of place on his head, dishevelled as it was.

"How are you still smiling?" Her voice broke, and all at once, the tears she was holding flowed out.

His eyebrows furrowed, he quickly reached out to catch her face in his hands, wiping away at her cheeks.

"What do you mean?"

"You almost died because of me, Taehyung, you almost died-"

"But I didn't."

"You almost did! You literally could have died; the doctor said if I had come five minutes later - if I had come a little later, you wouldn't be here."

"But you didn't, and I'm here," the soft smile never left his lips, and at that, she just crumbled.

"You almost died because of me. How do you not hate me?"

"How could I ever hate you?" He whispered, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, "It would be like hating a part of myself."

"Taehyung-"

"What is this?" he sighed, exasperated, "I just went through surgery only to come out to you telling me off?"

She frowned, the tears never stopping.

"Give me a hug," tilting his head, his smile grew a fraction, "tell me you love me."

Snaking her arms around his waist, she leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I love you, Taehyung, I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you too, Jiah," he replied, mouth in her hair, giving her the slightest tickle, "I would do anything for you. I'm a fucking idiot I know, but I'm your fucking idiot. You're not getting rid of me that easy."

"Taehyung-"

"Also," he pulled back, looking at her questioningly, "I seem to recall you calling me-" he coughed, "-baby?"

"Oh God."

"Since when? I don't ever remember you calling me that before then."

"You heard that? You were bleeding out!"

"Yeah, I guess the lack of oxygen wasn't affecting my brain just yet," he shrugged, "I liked it."

"You make it so hard to love you," she groaned, shaking her head.

"Do I? Really?" he grinned, dropped a hand from her face, the other holding her jaw gently, as he brought her lips closer.

"No," she mumbled against his mouth, both their smiles evaporating as he deepened the kiss.

The kind of kiss where she felt a thousand stars burst at the corners of his lips. The kind of kiss where she fell into the abyss of space, watching the planets and moons idle around her. The kind of kiss that made her forget her name, her story, and made her want to hold onto this man for the rest of her life.

That thing she is feeling is wonderful and sinful and perfect and a complete and utter disaster.

—

Thirty-nine thousand three hundred and twenty-two seconds.

"He's fine," Jimin sighed, leaning back in the seat, "He's okay."

Jungkook agreed to accompany him to lunch, knowing Jimin hadn't eaten all day and so now they were sitting in a cafe across the street from the hospital.

"I can't believe he's okay."

"I told you he'd be fine, didn't I?" Jungkook offered him a smile.

"You did," taking a bite from his bun, and he outstretched his arm to Jungkook, "Do you want some?"

He shook his head, the smile never faltering, "It's okay."

Jimin didn't know what it was about Jungkook that captured him. What was it about him that made Jimin want to giggle like a schoolboy again? What was it about him that made Jimin blush so hard he'd have to walk around with his hands covering his cheeks? What was it about him that made Jimin fall so hard?

Neither one of them would ever see it then, but as Jimin listened to Jungkook tell him a story about an old friend of his who worked in that area, a new smile appeared on Jimin's lips. It wasn't the polite kind he'd give Directors, nor was it the goofy smile he'd share with Taehyung.

This smile was different.

Jimin held the whole world in his heart; he carried Saturn in his eyes and the sun in his arms. But the boy who radiates warmth, the boy who took it upon himself to protect everything and everyone around him, now saw the moon in Jungkook's eyes, he saw the stardust coursing through the ink splayed across his skin and the asteroids flying through his veins.

Jungkook was so beautiful, and Jimin found himself unconsciously thanking God any time he could, for the blessing of seeing him.

"Wait," something on Jungkook's neck caught Jimin's eyes, "Can you turn your head a little?"

"Why?" Jungkook's eyes widened.

"I just thought I saw something on your- Oh my God, I'm right."

"Huh?"

"You have the exact same tattoo!"

Immediately, Jungkook's hand flew to his neck in an attempt to cover up.

Jimin had seen nothing faster.

Jungkook wanted to run and hide.

"You have a tattoo of Saturn as well!"

Writing a letter and mailing it to his penthouse would have been less direct.

"T-That's-"

"No wonder, I thought the tattoo you gave me was slightly different from the image I showed you on my phone. I didn't say anything though because the tattoo you gave me looked so much better," he rested his chin in the palm of his hand and tilted his head at Jungkook, "It's because you gave yourself the same one."

The words were hanging over their heads, neither one of them brave enough to speak it into existence.

I like you a whole damn lot.