Jungkook stood watching the line where heaven touched the earth. Sparks lit the sky and blood poured, as the glory of paradise descended further behind the seam of the world. The sun casted its golden rays down upon the land, turning everything bright red, like a gleaming ruby, like a magnificent rose.

Jungkook shook his head, no, not a rose. A rose can only be used to resemble jimin, nothing will be more beautiful than him, nothing can have the privilege to get described as a rose. He found it unbelievable how jimin was the only one who could decipher magnificence, or should he say, perfection. It felt like from the gloom of his life came a white glow. With him, he felt alive, like all the missing pieces of his heart finally collide, it felt like fireworks and symphonies, he would explode into glitters just by a subtle touch from the pretty boy. It felt real, it felt sane, it felt like home. Or perhaps, it was his last fear.

Jimin, his love, his tear.

Jungkook was afraid that he would stumble upon jimin’s parents. He didn’t want to lose his only chance to visit him, he couldn’t afford losing the boy. He could take the humiliation, he could take the rebuke, but he couldn’t take the loss, not when jimin held his world. He made his way to the intensive care unit at a hectic pace. He chose to pay his visit at this hour after jimin’s parents had gone home. The brown of his hair was already fading, the root appeared jet black, shining under the the shadow of the light. Recalling how jimin’s mum despise his hair, he gave out a mocking laugh and ran his fingers through the mop of brown exposing his broad forehead.

He was in deep thought when a girl in red ponytail ran into him, face clashing onto his firm chest and fell to the ground. Taken aback, jungkook gasped and looked at her with wide eyes. He stood frozen, immobilised. The girl hurriedly stood up and brushed off the dust, lifting her head, eyes lingered on the brunette. If it was not for the setting of the sun, jungkook would have seen the red that crept onto her face. Her stare was unwavering, heart beating along to the chirping of the magpie resting on the branch of the winter blossom.

And a certain soft pink caught the corner of jungkook’s eye. He didn’t remember seeing any tree with pink flowers down in the meadow. The colour was almost too subtle, it was bluish red, of medium lightness with low saturation. It was much more gentle compared to the scarlet of the girl, it was more calm and dreamy, something jungkook was restlessly searching for. It was serene and tranquil, the feeling that only a certain someone was able to provide him. He closed his eyes to savor the peaceful phenomenon, to get enveloped by the swirling of time. All of a sudden, something inside his mind clicked making him open his eyes. He abruptly turned his head to the right to look at the ravishing pink.

What fell into his eyes was like a myth, it was galvanic, it was breathtaking, it was surreal. Under his deep gaze, the winter blossom was blushing madly.

Jimin’s winter blossom, had bloomed.

☆☆☆

Jungkook thought he would get used to not seeing the pretty boy around. He knew there would be time jimin wasn’t the first person he would lay his eyes on. At times when he barged into the room, when he wanted to see him, to talk to him, to embrace him. But he knew he would eventually meet him again, just like all the times when jimin called his name with his melodious voice, and jungkook would always smile like an idiot. He never turned around aruptly, he was never ready to see such a beautiful human being. After all those times, and yet, his heart could never learn. He needed some time to tame his butterflies, to calm his racing heart, to hide his florid cheeks. He didn't know how, but jimin never failed to captivate him. He was trapped, he was lured, but he didn’t want it to stop. It was a curse that jungkook didn’t want to escape from, instead, he wished to fall deeper, to get chained up, to get tied down, to get buried under the spell. With that, at least he had something he belonged to, he had someone he could miss, someone to give his heart to.

But right at the moment, when he was ready to be casted by another spell, when he opened up the door to his heart, it slammed right back at him. Nothing left for him, not even the last person he gave his everything to. He could see the broken pieces of his heart scattered around the floor, in different shapes and sizes, glistening as they reflected the ray of the fluorescent light, having no one to collect them. They were lying on the ground, singing a song of tragedy. The woe, the sorrow, the grief. It was too much for jungkook. He couldn’t handle such melancholy, such a downcast scene was the last thing he would expect.

How he wished it was merely a dream, a dream which would fade away when he opened his eyes, a dream which meant nothing but a trick of his mind. But he knew it wasn’t. It was real, it was solid. He had lost, lost his jimin, lost his heart, lost his world. He had lost right at the moment he saw the boy was not there. It was not like those previous times when he could still wait for his name to be called from behind, this time, it was no longer the same. Even the bed was made, even the scent of jimin had vanished. Everything that lingered was only the stinky pharmaceuticals.

Perhaps, it is true. Beautiful things can only grow to a certain height, they will eventually fall and fade off, breathing out memories as they decay.

Jungkook was deadly afraid of almost, coming so close to where he wanted in life that he could almost touch it, almost embrace it, then it fell just a little too short, leaving no trace, leaving no chance. He let out a chuckle, fell to his knees but couldn’t feel the pain. Everything hurt so much to the point he was numb, so numb that he couldn’t even feel the tears rolling down his cheeks. It felt like he was in Pandemonium, so close to succumbing, to falling apart and disappear into thin air.

He refused to comprehend, as the only thing running in his mind was the boy he yearned for. Jungkook had eventually gave up, he was too tired, too exhausted, too fatigue. He was worn-out, both his body and mind. And he casted his gaze to the only window in the room.

Through teary eyes, he watched the sun fell behind the horizon, painting the sky shades of red and purple, and he thanked God that the day had finally come to an end. All the pain he suffered, all the hurt he had felt. Everything. Gone.

“Do you see those colours, jimin? They are symbols, each showing a good tomorrow could bring. Just like your winter blossom that has bloomed, the pink will bring you hope and happiness, it will bring you love” but he knew those colours will be hidden within the black despair of night, a symbol of suffering that tomorrow would bring. But it was fine, as long as he was alone, as long as he suffered all by himself.

“Jimin” there was one last thing he whispered into the air before his blackout.

“I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul”