Yoongi pulled his black hood tighter around his face as he stood at a busy intersection, it’s fluffy interior brushing against his cheeks yet providing little refuge from the weather. Above him, the sky was a somber grey. Heavy clouds weighed down the sky and darkened the afternoon, making it seem like it was much later in the evening than it really was. From these clouds, unrelenting rain fell to the earth, blanketing the asphalt roads in a fine sheen of water.

Yoongi stared down at his shoes while he waited for the lights to change, watching the hundreds of tiny rain droplets splash onto the pavement between his feet, shattering on impact, over and over again.

Someone shouldered passed him and he looked up to see the lights had now changed. He stepped into the intersection and moved with the throng of bodies. Everyone had their heads down, jackets flicked up around their necks and black umbrellas clasped tightly to their chests as they walked quickly, eager to be out of the rain and reach their intended destination. Yoongi’s pace was slow though; he didn’t want to reach his destination.

A lump caught in his throat as he thought about him, and he stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets and blinked back tears.

He knew it was stupid to cry about it, yet he still had trouble suppressing his feelings.

He reached the other side of the street and turned left, side-stepping out of people’s way as they hurried to cross the street before the lights changed again. He moved to walk close to the row of shopfronts that lined the street, keeping his pace intentionally slow. He walked passed restaurants, warm lights and the smell of cooking seeping out their storefronts and creating pockets of warmth. The scent filled Yoongi’s nostrils but his stomach shriveled at the thought of eating; he simply couldn’t stomach anything in his current situation.

He wished time would slow – stop even – so he wouldn’t have to keep walking. Maybe that would cause a tear in space time and he would be zapped out of existence and plunged into an alternate universe where things were better; where his life wasn’t weighed down with dread and sorrow.

But nothing happened.

No zap, no frozen world. Nothing.

Yoongi kept on walking.

Soon enough, the glass building he knew so well loomed above him, towering like a giant iridescent tombstone in the dark, drizzly rain. He stared up at the building in hatred; why did Jungkook have to be stuck in there? Why did all this have to happen to him – to them?

A wave of grief sucked the air out of his chest and he shook the heavy resentment from his mind. He hated being here sure, but he hated the thought of not being by Jungkook’s side more. He did this for Jungkook and he wasn’t about to miss a visiting day today. He hunched his shoulders against the cold and rain and approached the hospital.

Automatic glass doors slid open for him and he was immediately enveloped in warmth. Bright artificial lighting shone down from above, a stark contrast to the bleak weather outside. Yoongi pulled his hood down, unzipped his jacket and shook the rain from his black hair.

The receptionist caught his eye as he walked over to the elevators, giving him a warm smile. He gave a slight nod of his head in recognition but kept walking; he couldn’t muster the effort to make small talk with her today. He caught the elevator to the fourteenth floor, just as he always did, and walked down the white sterile hallways taking a right, right, left and then straight until he reached the cancer ward.

Room 14.03 was the room Jungkook shared with three other patients. They were all older men who had already lived through their prime when the big C finally got to them. They weren’t willing to die, just like everyone else, but they were happy with the quality of life they’d lived up until now; they’d accepted their fate and they were ready to go quietly.

Jungkook was the odd one out. Twenty-one, eyes barely open to the world when he got sick, then sicker, then eventually bed ridden in hospital with his fate sealed. Terminal throat cancer and a three month expiry date.

His dreams of becoming an idol gone; the hope that he and Yoongi would live a long and happy life and travel around the world while Jungkook performed to audiences of thousands, gone. All that remained was the love they shared for one another, eternally carved into Yoongi’s shattered heart and Jungkook’s sick, cancer riddled heart that was barely keeping his body alive. 

Yoongi stalled at the door to room 14.03, took a deep breath and then slid the door open. He flashed a friendly smile to the other patients as he walked to Jungkook’s bed by the window. Outside, the sky had darkened even more since he had stepped inside the hospital, and the pattering of rain against the windows was louder, heavier. 

Jungkook was resting in his bed as he usually was, tubes in his nose hooked up to a machine that helped him breathe and another tube stuck out of his arm to feed his sick body the nutrients that Jungkook could no longer digest himself. It shredded Yoongi’s heart to pieces to see him like this. His body, once lithe and muscular, was now a mere shell; his skin a pale sickly colour and his cheekbones jutted out beneath tired sunken eyes. He still had hair as his cancer was already too far advanced for chemotherapy to have any effect, but those beautiful glossy locks were now dry and stiff and pushed off his face. He was sick to the point of imminent death yet he was still Yoongi’s beautiful boyfriend.

Yoongi pulled a chair over to sit close to him and placed a hand against his face. 

“Kookie, it’s me.” He hummed lightly, stroking his thumb along his cheek. 

Jungkook’s eyes slowly fluttered open and eventually focused on Yoongi. A small smile pulled at his lips and he lifted a shaky hand out to touch him. Yoongi quickly placed his hand in his and kissed his paper-like skin. 

“Hey, Kookie, how are you feeling today?” Yoongi asked. It was a stupid question – pointless really – but Jungkook liked him to ask it; he said it help him to keep some sense of normality. 

“I’m doing okay, Suga.” With every word he spoke he wheezed, it sounded like there was sandpaper stuck in his throat. Yoongi had asked him many times if it hurt him – just the sound made Yoongi’s heart hurt for him – and if he should ask the doctors if they could give him some more pain relief but Jungkook always turned down the offer; said he didn’t need it.

They sat in silence. They didn’t talk much anymore when Yoongi visited him; it was painful for Jungkook to speak and Yoongi only filled him in on anything that had happened since his last visit, which was never really anything of interest. His life now only revolved around hospital visits. But Yoongi got the feeling that his boyfriend enjoyed just his presence, the fact that he was always there for him, so sitting with him was enough. Jungkook slept most of the time now anyways; his body and mind were too tired – too fragile – to do much more than that as the cancer slowly claimed his body.

Yoongi held Jungkook’s hand while he stared out the window at the bleak weather, listening to the gentle, steady beep of Jungkook’s heart monitor. He could feel Jungkook’s eyes on him, glanced down at him, and smiled softly. 

Jungkook blinked slowly, a faint smile on his lips. He gazed up at him through tired eyes, his lids growing heavier until they shut completely and Yoongi returned his attention to the window and the ever darkening sky. It was unbearably hard watching Jungkook die. Every day he seemed worse; Yoongi could almost feel the looming presence of Death hovering above them, watching and waiting for the opportune moment to take his boyfriend, wrap him in his cold embrace and whisk him away forever.

He didn’t want it to happen. He’d lost count of the number of times he had prayed at the local temple, begging on his hands and knees for a miraculous recovery.

He just couldn’t think of what his life would be like without Jungkook in it.

Jungkook’s grip under Yoongi’s hand lessened and he glanced down at his boyfriend. He must have fallen asleep again, his pale pink lips were slightly parted and a calm, serene expression settled on his face. Yoongi gently untangled his fingers from Jungkook’s then stood to pull up the bedsheets, flattening out the crinkles with his hands.

“Afternoon Yoongi.” A gentle male voice greeted him from behind and he turned his head to see one of the nurses stop next to him.

His name was Hoseok and he was one of the familiar faces on the cancer ward that Yoongi had come to know from spending many afternoons there. Hoseok carried a clipboard in his hands and his light brown hair fell over his eyes as he looked down at his patients’ stats, comparing them to all the machines Jungkook was hooked up to. He nodded to himself and then turned his attention to Yoongi, holding the clipboard lightly to his chest.

“I see Jungkook is resting again.” Hoseok observed, casting his eyes over the fragile, sleeping young man. 

“Yeah.” Yoongi mumbled.

Hoseok placed a hand on his shoulder, “You look like you need to rest as well, Yoongi. I know you feel you need to be here every day for Jungkook, but he will probably just sleep until late evening.” He glanced over to the window, “I think it’s best if you head home early today. The weather’s going to get worse, the forecast said there’s a pretty bad storm coming.” He said.

Yoongi followed his gaze to the window. He didn’t think it could have gotten any darker, yet it had; angry black clouds now weighed down the sky and he heard the ominous rumble of thunder in the distance. He sighed and looked back down at his boyfriend, who slept soundly.

“I guess you’re right.” He replied.

He leant over to place a gentle kiss on Jungkook’s forehead and then straightened up, zipping up his jacket. Hoseok walked out of the room with him. 

“Have a good evening!” Hoseok chimed, waving goodbye as he walked in the other direction.

“Yeah, you too.” Yoongi mumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

He walked back through the winding corridors and caught the elevator down to the ground floor. As he stepped through the entrance back into the outside world an icy wind whipped past him and he shivered. He glanced up and the stormy sky as rain continued to pelt down and yanked his hood up over his head before hurrying off into the night.

***

In his room fourteen floors up, the steady beep of Jungkook’s heart monitor filled empty silence. It was slow yet steady, mimicking his beating heart while he slept.

beep… beep… Beep…

… beep… beep… beep…

Slowly yet gradually, the time between beeps increased.

.........beep……………..beep………………beep………………..

………………….beep……………………..beep………………… 

Until eventually it stopped and one last breath left Jungkook’s body.

…………………………………………………………………...……. .

A/N: RIP Jungkook 😭

Shockey1997 you said you wanted sad so....