Chapter Seven

He eventually found his way around the doors once Jungkook disappeared with Yoongi, once the shouting and the tears stopped. Everyone was there, in the waiting room. Jimin’s eyes worked through each one of them, one after the other, until his eyes found Yoongi leaned against the wall next to Jungkook. It reminded him of the tear streaked face he’d seen one of their first fights--it was the same air about him. Though, this time, Jimin couldn’t talk to him, tell him everything would be okay. Jimin didn’t know if things would be okay. No one did.

His fingers found his hair once again as he worked down the rest of the line of faces. Taekwoon and Hoseok were at the end of the group, occupied with a woman he hadn’t seen before. Jimin stared at them for a moment longer, hoping to catch bits and pieces of their conversation before he fully entered the bland room.

"Jimin is still unconscious, but the respiratory therapists are going to run some tests to see if they can wing him off the ventilator." The woman stated calmly.

Taekwoon nodded slowly. “That’s good news, right?”

The woman's composure contorted a little, enough to show the discomfort she felt in giving this news. "If he can breathe on  his own. With comatose patients, the first 24 hours are critical. If he shows any signs of-"

Yoongi's face twisted in pain with every word the woman continued to speak, and he finally couldn't listen anymore. "I can't," He breathed, shoving off the wall to exit the waiting room.

"Hyung," Jungkook reached his hand out to grasp Yoongi's arm, only to have it pulled away. "Hyung, please."

"I can't." It was all Yoongi could manage to weakly mumble as he stalked away, running his hands through his hair as he disappearing down the long hallway.

His tangled blonde hair turned a corner before Jimin had a chance to properly account for his departure from the room. He wanted to follow Yoongi, to selfishly be able to sit near him and assure him things would be okay even when the older boy couldn’t hear or see him. The nurse had told him to find someone to fight for, but what if the person you were fighting for was in just as much pain as you were? What happened when that person held the scale between whether or not dreams would be fulfilled?

•••

What is it two days or a week? A week or a hundred? Jimin wasn’t sure how much time had passed between the time Yoongi left. He wasn’t sure how much time had slipped by between the sleepless nights, the preparations for his audition, and mindless studying for the final exams at the end of the semester. Jungkook had kept him company as much as he could, even vouching to spend the night on several occasions when Jimin’s mind wandered. His family was worried, but part of him didn’t have the capacity to confront them about it.

He knew he wasn’t fine, he knew that he wasn’t himself, he just didn’t know how to fix it on his own.

It was a good week before he heard anything regarding Yoongi. Several of his shows had been cancelled—he’d gotten severely sick, though Jimin could never find out exactly where he was. Jihyun and Jungkook both advocated for the point that Yoongi didn’t deserve to have Jimin looking for him. Jimin couldn’t help but be bitter in those situations. He and Yoongi had both been in the wrong that night.

A cold rush of wind blew his fading blonde hair away from his face and eyes, causing a rough chill to run up his spine. Jimin shivered under his coat and jogged up the short distance to the porch. He’d skipped practice today at the school and Hoseok was busy this afternoon. Besides, part of him didn’t have the drive for it.

Life was void within the house when he entered. Seokjin was at work, Namjoon the same, and Jihyun was over at a friend’s until that evening after Seokjin picked him up. The house would be just to himself for a while. It took him a moment not to reach for his phone and try to call Yoongi like he had a million times as he kicked off his shoes and began up the stairs to his bedroom. Running a hand through his chilled hair, Jimin hitched his bag up further on his shoulder and trudged into the room.

Yoongi stood in the center of his dim room, hands shoved deeply into his jean pockets. Dark circles resided under his sleepy eyes that stayed glued to the floor. "Hi." He mumbled.

“Oh my God! Yoongi!” His books fell from his hands and he stumbled back slightly, almost managing to hit the wall. Jimin stared at the older boy for a few seconds while he composed himself. He didn’t know how to feel, how to react, how to look or speak. “Hy-Hyung.”

"I have absolutely no right to be standing here right now." he whispered, scoffing at himself and rubbing the back of his neck. With every word that passed between his lips, the more evident his sunken cheeks were. "None at all. But I wanted to apologize." he hesitantly glanced up at him, only meeting his eyes for a moment before turning them back to the floor. "I shouldn't have said the things I did because they weren't true. I was just," he swallowed, searching for the words. "God, how do I do this?" he whispered to himself.

Jimin toyed with the ends of his sweater. “From the beginning, maybe?”

"The beginning." he repeated quietly. "I will admit that I was hurt that you didn't tell me sooner. You can tell me anything, you know. Even if you're unsure, I swear I'll listen." he breathed out softly. "That night, after you left, I sunk into one of my episodes, and it was a lot worse than usual. I didn't expect my uncle to come home either. He found some pictures and," he couldn't even finish the sentence, flinching as if the memory physically stung. "He said, a lot of things I wish I could forget, and he kicked me out." he scoffed softly. "All of that on top of the show and business stress, I guess it all just started to take a toll on me."

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jimin asked softly, almost daring himself to take a step forward. The confirmation about the bruises had come a couple weeks late, though it didn’t feel any better knowing that the source was confirmed. “Why didn’t you come here?”

"I couldn't find the strength to." he whispered. "I didn't want to worry you. You've been stressing about this whole college thing for so long, I didn't want to add on to that." Yoongi shook his head. "A lot of good that did, right?"

“You always talk about me coming to you for help, about how you want me to let you help me and worry about me,” the younger boy managed out. A lump was forming in his throat, one too similar to the one that had arrived a month previous. “I thought that wordlessly extended both ways. I-I take care of you and you of me. I want to be there for you.”

"I guess I didn't completely understand that. I’m not used to depending on someone, Jimin-ah. I've never had anyone to depend on." Yoongi pulled his gaze up to meet Jimin's, small tears rolling down his cheeks before he could wipe them away. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. Truly. I can't express how much I regret what happened, or how I left. What I did was very cowardly. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I don't deserve for you to take me back. I don't deserve to even look at you." He sniffled as he pursed his lips. "I don't deserve you." He let out a shaky breath, turning his eyes to Jimin’s ceiling and pointing. “I wanted to at least do this for you.”

For a long moment, Jimin stared across the room at the exhausted male. He didn’t follow the pointing of his finger for a few long, silent moments. “Wh-What?”

It was piece after piece of paper, taped together to form a replica of the painted ceiling in the building where the auditions were being held.

"I can only do so much with a printer and packing tape." Yoongi murmured, turning his eyes back to the same spot on the floor. "I figured, if you got used to it now, it wouldn't be so scary once you get there."

“You,” Jimin covered his mouth with one hand, the other shakily pointing to the boy across the room as tears fell from his tired eyes, “Y-You for making me f-feel this way about you, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi took in a shaky breath. "Same goes for you, Park Jimin."

“Y-You for making me cry right n-now too,” he stammered weakly.

"You for making me a complete mess." Yoongi's lips quivered softly as he looked across to Jimin, his sad expression twisting the best it could into sincerity. "I'll go, okay? I just wanted to apologize. I just wanted to say, you're going to do amazing. " his breath hitched in his throat as he whispered, "You're beautiful." and he turned away towards the balcony.

“Yah!” He shouted after him. He waited for Yoongi to halt at the balcony doors before he wiped at his eyes and smiled through the tears that continued to form in his eyes. “Get over here and kiss me, you .”

Yoongi looked genuinely shocked as he stood at the balcony's threshold. Freezing in place, as if the cold winter air that filtered in had been the cause. "What?"

“Get over here and kiss me, you ,” he repeated, this time much more confidently. “Kiss me--”

Before Jimin could even completely finish the last sentence, Yoongi had taken the couple of strides across the room to meet him. A tilt of his head and the brush of his fingers was all it took to meet Jimin's lips in what started as a sweet kiss. His cold fingers found warmth in his hair, and his body support in Jimin's arms.

It had felt like months since he’d felt Yoongi’s hands thread through his hair and hold him close. The feeling of his cold lips sent a chill running up Jimin’s spine, though having him here and present was warmer than the cold breeze blowing into the bedroom. Jimin tangled his fingers back up through Yoongi’s messy hair and sm