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

Chapter 23: "When the Light Fades"

He didn't follow.

Not yet.

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Inside the room, the beeping of machines was soft and steady.

She looked like she was sleeping. But the tubes running along her arm and the oxygen gently resting at her nose told the truth.

Y/n was slipping.

Her mother sat at her bedside, her hand cupping Y/n’s pale fingers. She smoothed her daughter’s hair back and whispered something only a mother could say—a lullaby of warmth and grief.

Her father stood behind them, one hand on his wife’s shoulder, his lips pressed tightly, eyes shimmering.

“We’re here, sweetheart,” her mother said gently. “You’re not alone.”

Y/n stirred faintly, eyes fluttering halfway open.

A slow smile.

“Mom…”

Her voice was barely a breath.

“I’m here, baby,” her mother whispered, brushing a kiss on her forehead.

Y/n’s gaze drifted to her father. “Dad?”

He nodded, stepping closer, gripping her hand on the other side. “Always here, my girl. Always.”

Y/n’s eyes lingered on their faces, her lips trembling. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

Her mother let out a broken sound, trying to smile through her tears. “You didn’t. You gave us the happiest memories. We’re so proud of you. So proud.”

Y/n’s eyes welled up, and for a second, the room went quiet again—just their breathing, the soft hum of the machines.

Then the door creaked open.

Jimin stepped inside.

---

He froze.

It was like the air in the room changed. Thicker. Heavier.

Her parents looked back at him. Her mother offered a gentle nod, her eyes swollen but warm.

“We’ll be just outside,” she whispered. “Take your time.”

They stepped out, closing the door behind them.

And then it was just them.

Jimin walked slowly to her side, pulling the chair closer. He sat, but didn’t touch her at first. Just looked.

She was so pale.

But she still smiled.

“Hey,” she whispered.

Jimin blinked back the sting in his eyes. “Hey.”

“You look tired.”

“You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

He finally reached out, took her hand in his. It was cold. Fragile.

Like if he let go, she'd disappear.

“I made breakfast,” he said softly, trying to smile. “You missed my burnt toast.”

Y/n chuckled, the sound so faint it barely rose above the monitor’s beep. “You always burn toast.”

“I do,” he whispered, voice shaking.

There was a long silence.

And then, slowly, she turned her face to him. “Jimin?”

He looked at her, eyes locking.

“Thank you,” she said. “For every wish.”

He shook his head, tears falling freely now. “Don’t say it like it’s over.”

Y/n didn’t answer. Just squeezed his hand.

“I tried not to make you fall for me,” she whispered. “I really tried.”

“I did anyway,” Jimin breathed, breaking. “I didn’t want to. But every moment with you—every single moment—I was falling.”

“I know,” she whispered, eyes closing for a second. “That’s what made it so beautiful. And so hard.”

Jimin leaned closer, forehead resting gently against her hand.

“I’m not ready,” he whispered. “I’m not ready to let you go.”

Her fingers trembled against his cheek.

“I’ll stay,” she said, voice a breath, “as long as I can feel you.”

Then she opened her eyes again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“When I’m not here anymore… will you remember me in the spring? When the flowers bloom?”

He nodded, lips trembling. “Every time.”

She smiled. “And will you dance in the rain sometimes? Like I would have?”

“I will.”

She blinked slowly, her gaze fixed on him.

“Then it’s enough.”

The monitor beeped gently behind them, a steady rhythm.

Her eyes fluttered.

The grip on his hand loosened slightly.

“Jimin…”

“I’m here.”

“…don’t let go yet.”

“I won’t.”

Her breath came slower now.

He kissed the back of her hand, closing his eyes.

“I’m right here, Y/n. Always.”

And then—

Silence.

A long one.

Too long.

The monitor faltered.

Outside the room, a mother began to cry. A father held his face in his hands.

And inside—

Jimin sat still.

Her hand still in his.

He didn’t let go.

Not yet.

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