Jungkook

 The delicious smell of pancakes filled the air. The table was set and the coffee ready. 

“Good morning,” Jimin greeted sneaking into the kitchen. He circled Jungkook’s waist with his arms and laid his head on his shoulder. 

“Careful, I’m not showered yet,” said Jungkook, turning his head, he kissed him on the nose. 

“I think I’ll survive,” replied Jimin.

“Well, you’re not going anywhere without breakfast and coffee.” Jungkook gave him a quick kiss on the lips before plating the pancakes and pouring his coffee. “You’re not late yet, so sit and eat.”

He motioned to the chair.

“What would I do without you?”

“Starve,” Jungkook teased.  

Thursday, 

Jungkook woke up to the sound of beeping machines, his dream quickly fading as reality sat in. He was at the hospital.

As soon as his shift was over, he drove to the hospital. He tried to ignore the inhuman mass and humming of machines and tubes as best as he could. He stared at Jimin. He seemed so peaceful, maybe even content. He looked much the same as he had the day he was brought with fewer cuts and bruises.

Jungkook held Jimin’s hand.

For the past two months, he has been replaying the accident over and over in his mind trying to piece together how the accident happened. They went to The Golden Pig, a lively Korean restaurant. Jungkook had the promise to take Jimin there when he had time. They had talked a while, and then they drove away in Jungkook’s Mercedes.

They reached their turn, Jungkook looked left, looked right, forgot to look left again, and pulled out in front of a racing car bearing towards them.

“Watch out!”

The other car swerved but not enough and he slammed on the brake pedal, but it was too late. The other car plowed into theirs- erupting slow mashing sound of metal on metal. The sound of Jimin’s screams, glass shattering, and the high-pitched roar of the engine as it accelerated out of control assaulted Jungkook’s ears.

Darkness consumed them.

He woke up a few days later with no serious injury- a few cuts, bruises, and a broken arm but Jimin was severely injured and slip into a coma.  He had a fractured skull, broken ribs, and some internal injuries.

It’s been two months since then. He was able to breathe on his own now, and Jungkook was glad. It was painful to see him with a breathing tube.

Jungkook sighed, looking around the small dim lite room. It held a bed, two small chairs, and the machines attached to the man in the bed. With small exterior windows, that allowed the sunlight into the room, the rays lessened by the curtains.

A sudden knock came, startling him as the door opened allowing the nurse to walk in, “Good morning,” she greeted.

“Morning,” he replied.

Jungkook watched as she took his pulse while intently watching his face.  The heart monitor showed a strong, regular rhythm. Other than his lungs moving up and down, the rest of his body was still. 

“You are going to be okay Jimin,” she said, “Do you need anything?”

Jungkook shook his head as she left the room to check on other patients. A few seconds later, the door opened again, and it was Mr. and Mrs. Park with their youngest son, Jihyun, Jimin’s younger brother.

Jungkook got up from his chair and greeted them, “We spoke with the doctor on our way here. He says there are good brain activity and eye movement which suggests he is in a dream state. Usually, that happens when a patient is about to regain consciousness,” said Jimin’s mother.

Jungkook exhaled forcing a small smile. He’s been hearing that from the doctor so many times that the words held no meaning. They were just empty words that the doctors and nurses are trained to say to help the family not lose faith.

“You need to rest,” said Jimin’s father, “Go on home, we’ll stay with him.”

Jungkook shook his head, “I’m alright, I need to stay.”

Jimin’s mother pasted a smile and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, “You won’t do anyone any good if you fall ill,” she said, “Go home and rest, please.”

Jungkook nodded as he stood up resigning. Standing by his bedside, he holding his hand, rubbing his arm,

“I have to go now. I’ll come back later; I love you.”

Jimin

6:00 pm

Pain.

It was the first thing Jimin became conscious of. Everything was hurting. Every single inch of his body was hurting. Then numbness, and with numbness came darkness. It surrounded him, like a warm blanket on a winter night, but it offered no comfort.

It was an endless cycle. Pain. Numbness. Darkness. And then there was something more- whisperings. The gentle murmur of noise, another dimension to his reality. A rustle, almost too soft to hear, but it was something more, however brief. 

Then Jimin Jimi felt pressure on his hand and squeezed it in reflex. Everything was hurting. He winced.

What had happened? And why couldn’t I open my eyes? He thought.

“Jimin, it’s Jungkook. Can you hear me?” a voice softly called out to him.

Jungkook? Who was Jungkook?

Beeping sounds attacked his already hurting head. He became aware of his body- that he was human. A person with a body. He wasn’t dead although it felt for damn sure like it.

“Jimin, baby please wake up,” the same voice breathed and then he heard sobbing

Jimin? Who was Jimin?  Was that his name?  It didn’t seem right; it didn’t seem familiar to him. Am I asleep?

Jimin slowly forced his eyes open. His vision was blurry for a moment. He blinked several times and things became clear. He was in a dimly lit white room filled with machines, most of which attached to him in some way. It was a hospital room. Puzzled he tried to recall but had no idea why he was in the hospital.

The beeping sound that was giving him a headache came from the monitor next to his head. He turned his head to see a pair of beautiful dark almond staring at him. A young man was hovering over him.

Wow, he is good looking. Jimin thought. Confused. Tired. Exhausted. He tried to speak but the words couldn’t come out. The young man was focused on him intently, with a range of emotions on his face that Jimin couldn’t quite place.

Who was he?

“You’re awake. Oh my god. You’re awake,” he whispered with tears lingering in his eyes as he gently caressing his face. Jimin felt his heart skip a beat as a spark of electricity followed where the young man touched, and he flinched.

“Who are you?” he asked slowly, his mouth dry, “water?”

More than fear showed on the young man’s face, but he quickly moved and poured him some water. Jimin leaned back, as the young man helped him sip. Jimin stared at him, confused, and lost. He had a nagging feeling that he should know him but that didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense.

After quenching his horrible thirst, his eyes felt heavy once again, and before he could speak, his eyes shut against his will and he fell asleep. He was so tired.