??????-??-??? || ?? ??

"We’re sorry, but we couldn’t save him."

Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat as he looked up—but a breath of relief left his lips when he realized the doctor was talking to someone else.

For a moment, his entire world had stopped.

The doors opened and Jungkook rushed forward, thigh still bleeding from the stab wound.

“How is he? He’s alright, right? When will he wake up?”

His voice trembled, chest heaving as if his heart was trying to break free. He needed answers. Now.

The doctor placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“He’s stable. But be careful with his head—there’s stitching, and any sudden movement could worsen it. He’ll wake up soon.”

A nurse gave him a comforting smile as she added,
“He’s resting now. But you can see him.”

Jungkook exhaled—only then realizing he had been holding his breath. His knees nearly gave out, his entire body relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. His world felt whole again.

He turned to Jin, tears clinging to his lashes, and whispered with a wide smile,
“He’s fine, hyung.”

Jin nodded, gently patting his shoulder.
“I told you he’d be okay.”

Jungkook looked at the slightly open door before stepping inside, gently closing it behind him. He held his breath, as if even the smallest sound might disturb Taehyung’s rest.

Careful not to make a noise, he walked slowly to the bed where Taehyung lay, breathing so softly it was barely visible. Jungkook sat on the stool beside him, his eyes glued to Taehyung’s pale face.

A fresh, thick bandage was now wrapped around Taehyung’s small head, and it looked painfully tight. Jungkook reached out instinctively to caress his soft, bruised cheek—but stopped midway when he noticed his own hand was covered in dried blood.

He glanced down at himself. His clothes, skin, everything—stained with blood. He couldn’t let himself touch Taehyung like this. He grabbed a tissue and tried wiping his hands, but it only made the mess worse.

"I’ll be back in a minute, sweetcheeks," he whispered softly, voice cracking.

He stepped out of the room, finding Jimin standing guard at the door. Jungkook cleared his throat, eyes cast down.

"I'm sorry... for earlier. I wasn’t in my right mind."

Jimin gave a small chuckle.
"I know. And I’m not leaving you. I’ll take revenge . But for now, go clean yourself up before he wakes up."

Jungkook nodded quickly and dashed down the hallway—he needed to be clean, calm, and whole when Taehyung opened his eyes.

Jimin sighed and stepped quietly into the room, walking over to the unconscious figure on the bed. He pulled a chair closer, eyes soft as he looked at Taehyung.

𓀡

It was peaceful—the soft golden light slipping in through the window casting a gentle glow across the room. Jungkook had finally showered and allowed the nurses to clean and dress his wounds.

Taehyung let out a faint whimper as he tried to move. For a terrifying second, he thought everything was repeating again—that he was back in the same nightmare, trapped in the same cold hospital bed.

But this time... there was warmth.

A thumb stroked his waist gently. A pair of strong arms held him close—delicate, careful, like he was made of glass. Like love.