A.N: Inspired by Lee Hi's song, ROSE. The lyrics reeled me in... and would explain the feels.

        Inspired, accrued, and added by my buddy, foolssweetiepie --much adoration to you.

YG family. Lee Hi's "ROSE":

My love is like a red rose
It may be beautiful now
But my sharp thorns will hurt you
My love is like a red rose
Yes, I may be fragrant
But the closer you get, the more I’ll hurt you

Don’t look at me with that light glance
Don’t speak of love easily
If you want my heart, you need to take my pain too
Because you will be pricked by my thorns someday...

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****************A LONG one-shot. **************************

Please enjoy! Reviews and subscribers are loved!! :) :)

 

AGAIN: FICTION. FAN-FICTION!!!

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JiYong is sipping on his tequila when it happens.

 

It is his third round, doused habitually with a crown of sugar and lime when realization hits. And it's late. Too late. His eyes are too captivated by  the way her hair reflects the low candle light, the dew of her plush, pink lips, and the way her auburn eyes sparkles. He fails to see it coming.

 

The first thing he hears is the mounting clamor beyond the dance floor. Then the man appears, hair and eyes wild. JiYong feels every hair on his body rise and his blood drain cold, but he didn't expect the gun. Black and sinfully sleek.

 

Then everything explodes-- hell breaks loose. And the shot is thunderous and unmistakable. The bullet is indiscriminate as the man pulls the trigger. Again and again. It's arbitrary as the pellet slices through the air and impales a body.  One after the other.

 

He doesn't panic but steps forward, arms wide, and prepares for impact. The racing questions like who the hell he is, how the man snuck in, or where he got the gun from, why he's doing this, doesn't form on his lips. JiYong is too busy feeling for Chaerin. He feels her fingernails catch his and he backpedals before shoving her petite figure behind his own towering height.

 

Another bullet scarcely whizzes by his ear when JiYong lunges towards the man before his trigger-happy finger can fire another set. Adrenaline is pumping when he seizes the underside of the elbow, twists it back and chucks the gun away. Security is on him as the man hollers madly, eyes wide and bloodshot, spewing garbled words as he is pinned to the ground by four officers. JiYong stands, breathing painfully hard.

 

"Chaerin, you all righ--" JiYong turns and freezes.

 

Words fail him.

 

She stands, features flawless in the evening gown he fashioned for her birthday. It's a flattering lacy peach and the fast spreading hideous red stain on the fabric on her chest is only too noticeable. Her dainty hands are slow to rise and she gapes at the mess of crimson before locking shuttering eyes with his.

 

He hears someone yell. It takes seconds to realize it's his own shattered voice.

 

JiYong immediately dives and breaks her fall before carefully dropping down, cradling her crumbled body. He slides his hand on top of hers, pressing it hard against her side. He bites back another petrified scream as he feels the hot blood seep underneath the palm of his hand.

 

"MEDIC! CALL AN AMBULANCE!" he bellows.

 

The bleeding is savage and endless. Terror courses through JiYong's veins but he wrestles it back and urges a hand on her forehead. Her eyes are large and fuzzy.  Horror floods his mind-- she's going into shock.

 

"Chaerin! Chaerin, please! Hey, hey---" he doesn't recognize his own cracking voice. "Stay with me. Stay with me!"

 

Put pressure on it.

 

He dimly thinks he hears someone, but he doesn't care. He's too focused on carefully binding a handkerchief on where the blood is darkest. She lets out a choked gasp and her breathing quickens.

 

"Chaerin, you're going to be all right. You hear me?" He wraps her tighter against his chest. "You're going to be ok--- look at me!" He brushes the hair from her eyes. "Breathe, just breathe-- WHERE'S THE DAMN AMBULANCE?!"

 

Her eyes begin to shut and he jostles her awake. "Stay with me, Chaerin. Just hang in there-- come on!"

 

Her eyes are hazy, and her once bright orbs begin to fog.  She's losing too much blood too fast and it takes all his sanity to not slash open his veins and pour his blood into hers. Stay with me, Chaerin. Please!

 

When the medics pry her from his arms, she's unconscious.

 

His horrified denial swells against the lump of his throat as the medics carry and secure her to the stretcher. As she begins to roll away from him, he's already hysterical. He doesn't see the technicians he's bumped into until the they're towing him back by his collar.

 

"Sir, Sir--SIR! You can't--!"

 

"in' MOVE! I'm with her!" he snarls, trying to break free.

 

It takes three medics to keep him from latching on and climbing into the truck. It's only when he sees her immobile, pale, and lifeless form he halts, heart jammed on his throat. The paramedics dash about, long tubes and wires dancing in chaotic synchronization as they plug and attach it into her still body. JiYong vaguely recalls the needle, the IV bag and the electric monitor. Time is at a hideous standstill until he hears the beep of her heartbeat.  She's alive.

 

She's alive.

 

He doesn't have time to register anything  before brutally shoving aside the care assistants and clambering into the convey. All he sees is the pastiness of her blood-littered skin and the way her blonde-streaked hair fans and halos her white face. She looks too beautiful to be laying there, so eerily still and so dreadfully quiet.

 

JiYong is in a muffled trance as he stumbles into the white corridors behind the rushing stretcher. He's suddenly stopped by a woman in white, who places a metal tray with papers in his outstretched hands. He watches Chaerin's unmoving form disappear behind the swinging doors before finally making contact with reality. He faintly hears the woman's words but he's too busy filling in the empty spots on the forms.

 

He scribbles out everything from memory. Her full name, address, phone number, birthday, birthplace, blood type, allergies, biological and family history. He also jots down her favorite color, least favorite, food, drink, brand, sports, season, movie, musician, song, book, snacks, desserts, how she takes her tea, coffee, martini, rum, smoothie, and coke... when a hand lands on his, stilling it.

 

JiYong blankly looks up to see Seunghyun's dark, concerned eyes. He blinks, just now seeing the small gathering of people huddling around him. It takes a moment for him to soak it in.  

 

"Ji... what are you doing?"

 

"They're going to give her the wrong stuff when she wakes up," he mutters vacantly.

 

Seunghyun slowly nods his head, "All right. You can tell them the right ones when Chaerin does, ok?"

 

Taeyang is suddenly at his side, levering the clipboard from JiYong's death grip. He hands him a cold can of soda before popping the top open.

 

"It's supposed to help with the shock, Ji," his voice is somber. "Drink up."

 

JiYong stares at it before pulling it to his mouth. He sees the red brimmed eyes of Minzy, Dara, and Park Bom and nearly chokes under the thick, gloomy tension of the confined space. That and his boys' tormented stare. He just about loses it and rockets to his feet when the doctor and nurse emerges. JiYong is in front of them before the others.

 

"We've isolated the fragments-- luckily it missed her vital nerves. Miss Chaerin is in intensive unit for urgent surgery," he gives JiYong a full sweep with his blue eyes. "I need to speak with her direct family."

 

The group collectively falters, caught off guard. They were in America, and rules applied albeit differently-- but it only made sense. YG isn't immediately available and it would take him too long to arrive from the chaotic scene in the hotel they had recently deserted. JiYong instantly steps forward.

 

"You're speaking with him," he declares, eyes frighteningly intense. "I'm her husband."

 

The physician casts a cynical look and glances at the flock. Taeyang slinks forward and slaps the paperwork into his hands.

 

"It's true. I was his best man," Taeyang asserts.

 

"--And I was Chaerin's maid of honor," Bom's voice interjects, tears new on her cheeks.

 

JiYong inches closer, growling. "Take me to my wife."

 

The doctor holds his glare before finally relenting and turns to lead JiYong behind the E.R. division. It isn't long before JiYong casts aside the white curtain and sees Chaerin splayed on the bed. Hot tears sting the back of his eyes as he sees her attached to an oxygen mask and a protruding cylinder on her open wound. They were pumping out the clotting blood from her lungs. He makes a bee-line for her and interlaces his fingers with hers. She's fighting to stay awake.

 

"Chaerin, you're ok," he finally releases the breath he's been holding. "You're going to be ok. They're going to take that nasty bug out of you real fast."

 

JiYong sees her face struggle and jumps in. "No-no, don't talk. Just focus on breathing."

 

Her eyes slit open slightly and he doesn't fight the relief that washes over his numb body. He's smoothing her hands carefully and it takes so much of his willpower to just lean over her when his entire being wanted to embrace her; envelope her in his arms and steal her pain.

 

"Close your eyes, Chae. I'll be here when you wake up," he whispers. "I promise."

 

"Excuse me, Mr.Kwon?" the nurse beckons. "She's ready."

 

JiYong can only watch on helplessly as she is taken from him grasp again.

 

 

 

They are ushered into an adjacent waiting room, where they are bombarded with the uncanny silence. They all sit, hunched and quiet, their faces crushed into a solemn and anxious expression. They all keep a separate and attentive eye on JiYong, who is all but flying from wall to wall, gritting, grounding, and biting his hands. YG finally arrives, more flustered and windswept than they've ever seen him. It's mere seconds before JiYong hunts him down.

 

"When people ask-- Lee Chaerin and I are married," he decrees, face serious. "No questions, rebuttals, or jack-. She's my wife and I'm her husband."

 

YG is stunned and visibly shocked but says nothing as JiYong stares on, daring him to refute his statement. Getting none, the rapper stalks away and plummets to an empty chair, clutching his head.

 

It seems like hours.

 

Days. Months. Years. Eons--When it's only been mere minute. JiYong feels the cold fear, rage churn and burn and he restrains from tearing down the wall. The same nurse enters to keep him posted and he clings onto her like a lifeline. She only gives him an rueful look.

 

"Your wife is in excellent hands, Mr. Kwon."

 

Friend. Girlfriend. Fiancé. Wife. Those words mean nothing to him. Chaerin is more than that-- his soul mate. His other half. His life. Nothing else comes close. But these people needed the formality. And if labeling her as his wife would grant him access to her, then so be it. He glances over to the corner and sees Seunghyun hold Bom intimately, murmuring soft words of comfort into her ear. She's still crying and he's wiping away her tears.

 

JiYong turns away, swallowing the feral bile. Resentment and jealousy boils in him, but he knows he has no right. He has no one to blame but himself. It's his fault and he knows it, no matter how many times he tries to deny it--deny the fact Chaerin's the one.

 

He wanted her.

 

God, how he wanted her.

 

More than he desired anything else in the world. Yet he deprived himself and pushed the notion away, deeming her too young, naive, and too pure. And he, a measly brother figure.  But it never stopped him from yearning for her presence.

 

He's terrified.

 

If anything happened to her now, he would never live with himself. He'd drown and die in a deep pool of regret--regret that he'd never taken the risk beyond the subtle passing glances, cautious hugs, guarded conversations, and restrained touches. He'd always hide behind a new, ridiculous excuse.

 

She felt the same, that he also knew. There was always a hunger for more, a perpetual ache on the hollow of his heart that only ignited whenever he thought of her. Since he thought of her every second of his day, the craving, the coveting was an excruciating constant. Now that desire was going to manifest itself-- too openly and eagerly. Yet somehow, he didn't care.

 

He just prays he's not too late.

 

JiYong thinks the fates are merciful when the doctor finally surfaces and escorts him out to a separate unit. The surgery is successful, and she would make a complete recovery. But his heart doesn't mend until she sees her again, bandaged and dressed in a hospital gown. The blood, mask and hose is gone, he notices as he rushes to sit beside her.

 

He can't tear his eyes away from hers. He's scared she would vanish again. So he pulls her hand to his, careful to avoid the IV line. Cries of triumph and relief erupts behind him and JiYong sighs alongside the girls who gathers around the sleeping Chaerin in motherly and sisterly affection.  

 

When she comes to, her eyes don't open, but she lets out a raspy breath. The room blows up with shouts of joy and doesn't die down until the nurse storms in, reprimanding their unruly conduct. It would deter her recovery and she steers them out (please, family only!) despite their protest and shuts the door behind her.  

 

When Chaerin's brown eyes land on his, JiYong feels his frozen body melt.

 

He swallows his clashing emotions thickly, "Chae--Chaerin, hey."

 

"--pa...?"

 

"Yea. Yeah, Chae. You're ok now," he murmurs, rubbing her hand. "You don't have to talk. You're going to be outta here in a day."

 

"--veryone ok? Did... get--"

 

"Everyone's fine. The shooter's gone," he says firmly.

 

She nods weakly and shuts her eyes as the nurse slides in. She taps the IV bag and smiles genuinely. "Welcome back,  Miss. You had your husband so sick with worry."

 

He sees Chaerin's eyes snap open wide-- she's definitely awake now.

 

"Press the switch if you need me, " the nurse says before making final adjustments and exiting.

 

Chaerin's surprised eyes are on his now, and JiYong feels his neck and cheeks flare.

 

"I'm sorry about-- that," he shrugs sheepishly. "Family only, apparently."

 

She fixes him a keen look before squeezing her hands beneath his.

 

 

-

 

He doesn't leave ever her side. She never asks him to because she just gets it. When he's helping her to the bathroom, she doesn't object, just wordlessly nods her thanks. He's there when they're changing the bandages, sheets, IVs, and gown. He never leaves.

 

JiYong is silent as he helps pull the hoodie over her head, careful to avoid her bandaged torso. She notices his silence but doesn't press. It's when she's through her hair he marches forward and knots it niftily to her side before tying it with a matching ribbon.

 

"I could do this forever if you want me to," he says, voice painstakingly low and even.

 

Chaerin spins to look up at him. His dark eyes are unyieldingly on hers, resolute and sincere. It takes her a steady heartbeat before she turns to face him fully. His eyes are locked solidly on hers when she shakily breathes in.

 

"And when does forever start?" she poses softly, connecting his gaze.

 

"Whenever you want it to," he answers warmly, unable to stop the ecstatic grin from splitting his face. "Whenever you're ready."

 

She tilts her flushed head and mulls over for another moment before smiling. "Who says I'm not ready?"

 

JiYong hears the wall disintegrate and he's instantly striding forward and cupping her face. He leans in and captures her lips with his. It's more than he's ever dreamed of--so much more. He can't imagine being anywhere else as he feels her respond tenderly before slowly pulling away. JiYong plants kisses on her cheeks before wiping away her fresh tears.

 

He links her hand with his and kisses it lovingly before placing it on his heart . "Now and forevermore, Chaerin."

 

They shuffle outside to the waiting room, hands bound together.

 

And no one is surprised when days later, they see matching bands circling their left ring-finger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

--

 

 

TBC....