(JIKOOK) Texting Story Snippets

Wake up

But understanding the why never excused the how in their story's end. No excuses, no reasons can explain stripping away his say in the matter simply because it was 'the right thing to do'. It didn't feel right when his heart hurt so bad he wanted to be sedated just so he could know what it felt like to sleep again. It didn't feel right when he couldn't talk to his friends because they reminded him of his broken heart. He didn't need any reminders when everything felt like it was suffocating him all the time already. He was lonely and scared and fueled by anger and resentment, letting every single encounter he made be a step in his staircase towards moving on from his old life and into his new one. The one that will never allow Jeon Jungkook to enter ever again.

That staircase shudders under his feet the moment his hand reaches for the door handle of room 317. Jimin takes a deep breath and feels the weight of the world rest upon his slumped shoulders. This is the turning point he's heard of before, that life changing decision. He can feel the weight of its impending doom like a shadow looming over his head. Hand suspended in mid air over the door handle, fingers twitching, Jimin considers his options. One; he leaves, focuses on himself until maybe, maybe, somebody comes along that makes him forget about Jungkook. Maybe he stays single and bitter forever, accepting the fact that Jungkook simply ruined his chances at a relationship with anyone because of how absolutely addictive it felt to be obsessively in love and how much he could never trust another person again with his heart anyway. Or maybe he stays and opens the door. Maybe Jungkook's current state tugs at his heart strings enough to give the man a chance at mending whatever could be left of what they had. A friendship could be nice. They could try that this time and it's possible that he could heal from it. It's possible that he could forgive Jungkook for real and let go of the toxic energy he's held onto for all of these years.

Maybe that would be his release.

Of course his friends' pleas made sense, but Jimin couldn't give them the satisfaction of having any control over his decisions. He was hell bent on running his own life without the interference of others that 'just know better' or are 'just looking out'. He needed to prove that he could take care of himself, and he did. He has been. He's been surviving. Even if his entire current situation has come to be the very thing that's backing him into the life changing decision, it's still a decision that he gets to make.

Jimin's fingers wrap around the door handle, his heart pounding and palms sweaty. It's been long enough. Seven years of wondering, missing, hating, and cursing a man he knows he will never lose all interest in. If he has to chalk it up to curiosity, it's a believable lie. A half truth even. He can find a friend in Jungkook and work on healing for himself. For them both. He'll come out a better person because of it.

He pushes forward the door when the handle clicks it open. The room is dim despite the time of day, blinds pulled closed to block out the intrusion of sunlight. Jimin feels as if he's intruding himself, but quickly reassures himself that he's meant to be here. He can see enough to find Jungkook's bedside, but can't make out the features of the figure laying in it. A moment of panic covers him, wondering if he mistakenly picked the wrong room, as he reaches for a lamp nearby and clicks it on, illuminating the room just enough to see Jungkook's still frame in a hospital gown, covered by stark white sheets and IV sites.

Jimin is surprised to see only a simple bandage at the top right of Jungkook's forehead. He expected something more dramatic, full coverage bandages surrounding the top of the skull or something like that. He didn't have any details or much knowledge of what kind of damage puts somebody into a coma to begin with. He smiles weakly down at the other and fumbles with his fingers against his stomach, wondering what exactly he's meant to do.

Moments go by in silence, Jungkook's steady breaths like a ticking clock. Jimin decides to grab a chair from the corner of the room and place it quietly near the side of the bed, as if a loud noise might wake the other. He takes a seat, leans into his hold, pressing himself against the back brace of it and exhaling every single thought still clattering around in his head. That's when the tears prick behind his tired eyes.

"Shit." Jimin whispers, voice trembling already when he breathes in again. "You did this on purpose, I bet." And he chuckles at the absurdity of his own accusation, wiping away his tears before they can flood over. "You didn't have to do this. I would've given you attention eventually." His bottom lip trembles and he looks down at his lap. "Just needed to hate you a little longer."

It takes a little while, maybe because he needed a good cry, but Jimin collects himself enough to call Yoongi like he'd promised to do. It's kind of a relief to not be so 'alone' in the room with Jungkook. The weight of it all feels a little less heavy and Yoongi promises everything will be alright. He's starting to believe it when he's left alone again, listening to Jungkook breathe in and out in a state of fear that he might stop.

"You know, I should really hate you more than I do." Jimin says after a while of silence. He watches Jungkook's still expression for signs of acknowledgment. Nothing. "I don't hate you. I actually miss you, but I'd never tell you that again." Perhaps it's his opportunity to speak his mind without repercussion. Possibly the only chance that he'll get, because Jungkook will be fine. He will be. Jimin pulls his legs up to his chest, settling back comfortably into his chair. "Maybe some of this I'll tell you when you wake up, but most of it you're not even supposed to know."

He starts with his first year away from home, all alone in a foreign city. He explains how he felt, his fear and loneliness and longing for Jungkook to make him feel better, the resentment he felt for being alone in the first place. His second year was almost as lonely, but he got used to it more, made some acquaintances. Jimin worked too much to pay for a living to have anything close to a local friend. By his third year, loneliness felt like a friend. He became an expert at distracting himself from his emotions and then throwing every ounce of them into dancing. He excelled, and by graduation he was exceptionally gifted. He became a dance instructor, just like he always wanted to. Life felt alright for once and then he met Marius. Marius was a good guy, smart and kind. He took care of things and didn't seem like the type to mess around. A hard worker, a romantic. Jimin liked him a lot, but it was a far cry from love. "I feel like you screwed that up for me. No, I know you did. It's like that stupid saying, how does it go? You never really get over your first love."

A sudden shaky inhale and Jimin can feel the tears pricking behind his eyes once again. He finds Jungkook's familiar face, never changing, and watches him through a clouded gaze. "I want to forget you so bad." He mutters and the words sound sad even to his own ears. He squeezes his eyes closed and holds his breath, breathing out his next set of words. "But I can't." And the strangled cry that rips out from his throat bears the weight of every bit of pain he's felt keeping that one admission to himself. He was never fooling anybody, but he was trying to convince himself that he could.

Jimin let's himself cry again for a few moments, letting himself feel the words that he'd just spoken. As he's wiping away the straggler tears from his red stained cheeks a nurse knocks thrice in the door. He pulls himself up from his chair to answer, encountering a nurse with a forced smile on her face. "Visiting hours are over, you'll have to visit again tomorrow." She says, voice soft with an attempt at comforting.

With furrowed brows,  Jimin digs in his pocket for his phone, checking the time for himself. It's a few minutes past nine in the evening and he wonders where he lost over six hours when it barely felt like one. "A-ah. Right. Give me a few more minutes, please."

"Just a few." The nurse responds, raising a concerned eyebrow and offering a softer smile this time.

As she turns to leave, Jimin shuffles back to Jungkook's bedside and looks down at him. He's as still as a statue, holding his breath, scanning the other for any sign of movement or acknowledgment once more. He exhales and drops his anxious shoulders, placing one hand atop Jungkook's own. "Wake up soon, alright?" He wraps his fingers around the others own, holding him tight for a couple of seconds before loosening his grip and pulling away slightly. His fingers graze across the back of Jungkook's hand, caressing it slowly. He missed the feeling of holding his hand. He missed the feeling of touching him at all. His fingertips absorb every bit of what feels like electricity beneath them, the excitement of Jungkook's hand having been in his own. He knows he won't be able to stop thinking about it. "I miss you so bad." The words tumble from his lips without a thought. It's alright, he can say what he wants to. "So wake up, yeah?"

Jimin leaves that night with a plan to return the next day. There's so much more left unsaid.