As Long As I Can (Jiminx Reader) [Completed]

Chapter 12: One Last Ride

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The morning began softly, with golden sunlight spilling through sheer curtains and dust dancing lazily in the beams. Jimin stood in the center of the guest room, folding a sweater with careful hands. His suitcase lay open on the bed, half-filled, the edges of clothes peeking out in quiet folds of familiarity.

The house around him was quiet. Even the birds outside seemed to be singing slower, like they, too, knew time was thinning.

He zipped the side compartment of the suitcase and sat down for a moment, letting his fingers rest on his knees. His phone vibrated on the nightstand.

Manager: “Flight confirmed. Call when you're leaving. We’ll start light—no pressure. Everyone’s missed you.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He stared at the screen, thumb hovering, and then finally locked it again without replying.

He was going home. Seoul was waiting.
The lights. The fans. The dance studios. The city that never stopped moving.
But his heart didn’t flutter like it used to.

Because here—here was different.
Here, the sky didn’t feel like a ceiling.

Before he could think more, the doorbell rang.

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When he opened the door, his breath caught.

Y/n stood there, sunlight catching in her hair like threads of light. She had one foot perched on the pedal of a vintage bicycle—paint chipped in the corners, a little basket up front—while her other foot tapped the ground lightly.

But it was her expression that made him forget to breathe. Mischief, affection, and something quieter all danced in her eyes.

“I heard you're leaving,” she said. “So I figured I’ll kidnap you for one last adventure.”

Jimin blinked at the bike. “That’s your plan? Kidnap me on one bicycle?”

She grinned. “I’m too tired to pedal today. You drive. I’ll ride like a queen.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re still stalling. Come on, Seoul boy.”

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The path they took meandered through the quiet side of town—narrow lanes dotted with wildflowers, the occasional sleepy cat sunbathing on a porch. Y/n sat behind him, sideways on the bike, her arms loosely around his waist.

She smelled like lavender and lemon shampoo.

“I’m choosing the music,” she said, tapping on her phone. A soft acoustic guitar song started playing from her speaker. “Mood matters.”

“You really brought a speaker?”

“Of course. This is our last ride. It needs a soundtrack.”

Jimin shook his head, smiling as he pedaled. The bike creaked under their combined weight, but the road sloped gently downhill, and the breeze was on their side.

She leaned forward once and said quietly, “Thank you… for not saying no.”

He didn’t turn around, but his voice was gentle. “Like I’d ever say no to you.”

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They arrived at a hidden hill behind the town, where tall golden grass swayed in the breeze and a sparkling lake stretched below, catching the sunlight like scattered diamonds.

Y/n hopped off, arms stretched wide. “Tada! My secret spot.”

Jimin stepped off too, a little stunned. The view was breathtaking. “You came here alone?”

“Sometimes,” she said, twirling. “I’d sit here and imagine I could walk straight into the sky. Dumb, right?”

“No,” he said honestly. “It’s kind of beautiful.”

They spread out a blanket and sat, sharing snacks she’d brought in a worn canvas bag. The lake shimmered, and dragonflies zipped across its surface. Birds chirped lazily in the trees above them.

Y/n offered him a lollipop from the bag. “Tradition,” she said simply.

He took it, smiling. “You and your sugar obsession.”

She bit her own and mumbled, “It’s part of my charm.”

He laughed, and they leaned back on their elbows, soaking in the warmth.

“Do you know what I’ll miss?” she asked suddenly.

“What?”

“Moments like this. When everything feels… quiet. Like the world paused to let us breathe.”

Jimin turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were closed, face tilted toward the sun. And for the first time in days, he saw her not as the lively girl who danced and teased, but as someone holding something deeper—something that weighed her down more than she let on.

He didn’t know how to name the ache that bloomed in his chest.

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Later, as they ran through the grass, chasing each other over some silly game, Jimin felt light again. She was laughing so freely, trying to tackle him with outstretched arms.

“You cheated!” she accused.

“You slipped!”

“You moved your hand after saying three—”

“Because you were slow!”

She huffed, lunging at him again.

And then—

She stopped.

“Y/n?”

Her steps faltered. Her hand went to her forehead.

And before he could take another step toward her—

She collapsed.

“Y/N!”

He ran to her, dropping to his knees. Her body was burning with fever, her breath shallow.

“Hey—look at me,” he whispered, cradling her head in his lap. “Y/n, open your eyes.”

“I’m sorry…” she murmured, eyes fluttering. “Guess I danced too much…”

“Stop talking. Don’t joke right now—please,” he said, voice cracking.

She tried to smile, but it trembled. “You’re panicking. You always do when it’s me…”

“I’ll carry you home. Just hold on, okay?”

She nodded faintly, eyes slipping closed again.

Jimin didn’t hesitate. He scooped her up in his arms, heart pounding, and began to walk—no, run—back down the trail, her soft weight against his chest.

He didn’t stop to grab the bicycle. He didn’t even notice the ache in his legs or the sweat clinging to his back.

All he could think was—don’t take her away from me yet.

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