The broken trust

Jungkook used to adore Jimin.

There was a time when his world revolved around the older boy—his bright smile, his soft voice, the way he always made Jungkook feel safe. Jimin was like warmth in human form, the kind of person who could light up even the darkest corners of someone’s heart.

But now?

Now, Jungkook couldn't stand the sight of him.

He hated Jimin. Every time he saw him, anger clawed at his chest, suffocating him, urging him to lash out. It wasn’t just hatred—it was betrayal, it was disgust, it was rage.

And it was all because of his cousin.

"Jimin isn’t who you think he is, Jungkook," his cousin had told him months ago, their voice laced with fake concern. "You think he’s innocent, but you don’t know what he does behind your back."

At first, Jungkook refused to believe it. How could he? Jimin was his closest friend, the person he trusted the most.

But then, his cousin fed him more lies.

"Jimin talks about you behind your back. He laughs at you."

"He’s using you, Jungkook. He only stays close because he wants something from you."

"He’s two-faced. You’re just too blind to see it."

The words poisoned Jungkook’s mind.

He started watching Jimin more closely, overanalyzing every action, twisting every word Jimin said, until his perception of the boy he once loved became distorted beyond recognition.

It didn’t help that his cousin always seemed to have proof—photos taken at the right moment, conversations conveniently overheard, rumors whispered in the right ears. Jungkook convinced himself that Jimin had fooled him all along. That everything between them had been a lie.

And so, love turned into hatred.

Day by day, Jungkook’s resentment grew. He started avoiding Jimin, then glaring at him, then snapping at him over the smallest things. But Jimin never fought back.

Jimin never defended himself.

He just stood there, hurt flashing in his eyes before he quickly masked it with indifference.

That only made Jungkook angrier.

Why wasn’t he denying it? Why wasn’t he fighting back? Was it because he knew he was guilty?

And then Jungkook started pushing him. Literally.

A shove in the hallway. A rough grip on his wrist. A shoulder slammed against his.

Jimin still didn’t react.

He didn’t fight back.

He didn’t say anything.

And that infuriated Jungkook even more.

Their friends noticed the change.

Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Taehyung all saw how Jungkook’s eyes darkened whenever Jimin walked into the room. They noticed the sharp words, the physical aggression, the hatred that dripped from Jungkook’s every action.

And they noticed Jimin’s silence.

"Jimin, why aren’t you saying anything?" Taehyung had asked one evening after Jungkook stormed out of the room, his shoulder roughly hitting Jimin’s on the way out.

Jimin smiled—a small, tired smile. "What’s the point?"

Hoseok clenched his fists. "The point is that you don’t deserve this! You need to tell him—"

Jimin shook his head. "It wouldn’t matter. He won’t believe me."

And that was the truth, wasn’t it?

Jimin didn’t know why Jungkook suddenly hated him, but he knew one thing for sure—whatever Jungkook believed, it was already set in stone.

Nothing Jimin said would change his mind.

So he endured it.

He endured the glares.

He endured the insults.

He endured the pain.

Because as much as Jungkook hated him…

Jimin still loved him.

Jungkook never meant to hurt Jimin that badly.

Yes, he wanted to scare him.

Yes, he wanted Jimin to feel the pain he felt.

But he never expected things to go this far.

It happened too fast.

One second, they were in an empty corridor at school, Jungkook’s patience snapping as Jimin ignored him for the hundredth time.

The next second, Jungkook was gripping Jimin’s collar, shaking him roughly. "Say something, damn it! Defend yourself! Prove to me that you’re not a liar!"

Jimin just stared at him. His eyes were tired. Sad. Defeated.

Jungkook saw something in them—something he wasn’t ready to understand.

And then it happened.

Jungkook shoved him.

He didn’t mean to push that hard.

He really didn’t.

But Jimin was fragile. Too fragile.

His body slammed against the edge of a desk. A sharp crack echoed through the room.

Jimin gasped. His legs buckled.

And then—

He collapsed.

Jungkook froze.

He didn’t move when Jimin hit the ground.

He didn’t move when blood started pooling beneath Jimin’s head.

He didn’t move when Jimin’s breath came out in ragged, painful gasps.

It wasn’t until Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Taehyung came running in that Jungkook finally snapped out of his trance.

"JIMIN!" Taehyung screamed, dropping to his knees beside him.

Jungkook stumbled back. His chest felt tight. His hands were shaking.

What had he done?

What had he done?

Then, chaos erupted.

Someone called for an ambulance. Someone was yelling at Jungkook. Someone was crying.

Jungkook just stood there, his whole world crumbling around him.

Jimin was rushed to the hospital.

Jungkook followed, but he couldn’t enter the room. He couldn’t face what he had done.

Not yet.

Not until he knew if Jimin was going to wake up.

Not until he knew if Jimin was going to survive.

And then, while standing outside the ICU, Jungkook heard the truth.

The truth that shattered his entire existence.

The truth that made him want to rip his own heart out.

His cousin had lied.

Everything—every single thing—was a lie.

Jimin had never betrayed him.

Jimin had never spoken badly about him.

Jimin had never used him.

Jungkook had hated the wrong person.

And now, the boy he once loved—no, the boy he still loved—was fighting for his life because of him.

Jungkook staggered back, his breath coming out in broken sobs.

He had made the biggest mistake of his life.

And he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to fix it.

Jungkook had never known true fear until this moment.

Standing outside the ICU, staring through the glass window at Jimin’s lifeless body hooked up to machines, he felt something inside him shatter.

Jimin looked so… small. So fragile.

His usually glowing skin was pale, his lips dry, his chest rising and falling only because of the ventilator. A thick bandage wrapped around his forehead, stark against the white hospital sheets.

Jungkook’s hands trembled. His legs felt weak. His stomach churned violently, threatening to make him sick right there in the hospital corridor.

This was his fault.

He had done this to Jimin.

He wanted to step inside. He wanted to grab Jimin’s hand, beg him to wake up, to tell him everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn’t.

Because he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near him.

"Jungkook."

The voice was cold. Sharp.

Jungkook turned his head slowly, facing the last people he wanted to see.

Jin. Namjoon. Yoongi. Hoseok. Taehyung.

His friends.

Jimin’s friends.

But right now, they weren’t looking at him like a friend.

They were looking at him like an enemy.

And maybe that’s what he was now.

"Do you even understand what you’ve done?" Namjoon’s voice was dangerously low, his usual calm demeanor replaced with barely restrained fury.

Jungkook opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Because really—what could he say?

"I told you to stop," Taehyung’s voice cracked. His eyes were red, swollen, as if he had been crying for hours. "I told you you were going too far. But you wouldn’t listen!"

Hoseok let out a hollow laugh. "Wouldn’t listen? He didn’t want to listen. He wanted to believe the worst about Jimin." His eyes gleamed with anger. "And now look where that got us."

"Do you even care?" Jin hissed, stepping forward, his entire body shaking. "Because if you don’t, Jungkook, I swear to god—"

"Hyung," Yoongi placed a hand on Jin’s shoulder, but his own voice was filled with ice. "Jungkook’s not heartless. He cares. That’s why he looks like he’s about to collapse."

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

That was the worst part, wasn’t it?

He did care.

He cared so much that it hurt to breathe.

"I…" Jungkook finally forced out, voice hoarse. His eyes flickered to the ICU door, then back to his friends. "I didn’t mean to—"

"Didn’t mean to what?" Taehyung snapped. "Didn’t mean to shove him so hard? Didn’t mean to send him to the ICU? Didn’t mean to hate him for no reason?" His voice rose with every word until he was yelling. "Jungkook, you broke him! And now you want to say you didn’t mean to?!"

Jungkook flinched.

He deserved this. Every single word.

But it still hurt like hell.

"I know," Jungkook whispered. His head dropped, fists clenching. "I know."

"Do you?" Jin’s voice shook with barely contained fury. "Because if you really knew, you’d understand that no matter how much you regret it—"

Jin’s voice cracked. He took a deep breath.

"—Jimin might never forgive you."

And with those words, the weight of reality crashed down on Jungkook’s chest like a hammer.

He had already lost Jimin once.

What if this time… he lost him forever?

Jungkook didn’t leave the hospital.

He couldn’t.

He sat outside Jimin’s room for two days, barely eating, barely speaking.

His mind kept replaying everything over and over.

The lies.

The hatred.

The moment Jimin fell.

The moment he realized the truth.

And most of all—the last thing Jimin had ever said to him before everything went black.

"Say something, damn it! Defend yourself! Prove to me that you’re not a liar!"

"What’s the point?"

Jimin had given up on trying to prove his innocence.

Because Jungkook had already decided he was guilty.

He had believed his cousin so blindly that he never even asked Jimin for the truth.

And now, even if Jimin woke up…

Would he even want to see Jungkook again?

Jungkook dropped his head into his hands, his nails digging into his scalp.

He felt sick.

He wanted to scream.

But he didn’t deserve to feel sorry for himself.

Not when Jimin was the one suffering.

Not when Jungkook was the reason why.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook looked up, eyes bloodshot, body tense.

Namjoon stood in front of him, his usual harshness replaced with something… quieter.

"Go home," Namjoon said, voice firm but not unkind. "You look like you’re going to collapse."

Jungkook shook his head immediately. "I can’t. What if he wakes up and I—"

"You think Jimin wants to see you first?" Yoongi’s voice came from the side. He wasn’t cruel, but he wasn’t gentle either. "Give him space, Jungkook."

Jungkook swallowed hard. He knew they were right.

But how could he leave when Jimin was still lying unconscious in that hospital bed?

Just then, a nurse walked by. Jungkook quickly stood up.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice shaking. "How is he? How is Jimin?"

The nurse gave him a small smile. "He’s stable now."

Jungkook let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

"But…" the nurse hesitated. "He hasn’t woken up yet."

Jungkook’s stomach twisted.

"When will he wake up?" he whispered.

The nurse’s expression softened. "That depends on him."

Jungkook sat back down, staring at the floor.

He had no choice but to wait.

Wait for Jimin to wake up.

Wait for a chance to apologize.

Wait to see if there was still any hope left for them.

But deep down, a horrible thought gnawed at his mind.

What if Jimin never wanted to see him again?

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor filled the silent hospital room.

Jimin’s fingers twitched.

It was the first sign of movement in three days.

Jungkook, sitting outside the room with his head in his hands, felt his heart leap into his throat when he heard the nurses rush in.

"His vitals are stable."

"He’s regaining consciousness."

Jungkook shot up from his chair, his body tense with anticipation. His hands trembled as he reached for the door handle—only to stop himself.

He wasn’t allowed to be the first person Jimin saw.

Not after what he had done.

Not after he had been the one to put Jimin in this hospital bed.

"Jimin-ah."

Taehyung’s voice was filled with relief and heartbreak all at once. Jungkook heard his footsteps rush inside, followed by the others.

Jungkook didn’t follow them.

He pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the door, squeezing his eyes shut.

He didn’t deserve to see Jimin.

Not yet.

Not until he found the right words to beg for forgiveness.

And what if Jimin never wanted to hear them?

Inside the room, Jimin’s eyes fluttered open slowly.

The bright white of the hospital ceiling blurred in his vision before clearing. A dull ache throbbed in his head, and his body felt like it was weighed down by bricks.

"Jimin, you’re awake."

A voice. Familiar.

Jimin turned his head weakly.

Taehyung.

Tears pooled in Taehyung’s eyes as he clutched Jimin’s hand tightly. "Oh, thank God."

"Hyung…" Jimin’s voice was raspy, barely a whisper. His throat felt like sandpaper.

"Don’t talk too much," Namjoon said softly, standing beside him. "You just woke up. You need to rest."

Jimin looked around the room.

Jin, Hoseok, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Taehyung were all there.

But someone was missing.

Someone who should be here.

Someone who… probably wouldn’t be.

Jimin’s heart clenched painfully. He closed his eyes for a moment.

So Jungkook really didn’t care anymore, huh?

Of course.

Jimin let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "Where’s Jungkook?"

The entire room tensed.

Jimin slowly opened his eyes again. He could tell, just from their expressions, that something wasn’t right.

"Jimin—" Taehyung started hesitantly.

"He's outside," Yoongi finally answered. His voice was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp, watching Jimin’s every reaction. "He hasn’t left the hospital since you were admitted."

Jimin’s breath caught.

Jungkook… stayed?

But why?

Jimin swallowed hard, his throat tight. His fingers curled slightly on the hospital bed.

"Doesn’t matter," he muttered. His voice was small, but the pain behind it was impossible to miss. "It’s too late now."

Taehyung squeezed his hand, biting his lip as if holding back words. But he didn’t say anything.

Because what was there to say?

Jimin wasn’t the one who had given up.

Jungkook was.

Jungkook barely got any sleep that night.

He sat in the hospital hallway, staring blankly at the floor, his thoughts spiraling endlessly.

Jimin was awake. That should’ve been good news.

So why did Jungkook feel like he was still suffocating?

Because he hadn’t seen him.

Because he didn’t know what Jimin was thinking.

Because he didn’t know if Jimin would ever forgive him.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear footsteps approaching.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook looked up.

Namjoon.

His heart pounded. "Is he—"

"He’s awake," Namjoon said, crossing his arms. His expression was unreadable. "But he doesn’t want to see you."

Jungkook’s stomach dropped.

"I need to talk to him," Jungkook said, his voice desperate.

Namjoon let out a heavy sigh. "Jungkook, do you even realize what you did?" His voice was tired. Frustrated. "You didn’t just hurt him physically. You broke him. The way you treated him—the way you believed those lies without even questioning him—it killed him inside."

Jungkook’s nails dug into his palms.

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

"Do you?" Namjoon shook his head. "Because if you did, you wouldn’t expect him to forgive you so easily."

Jungkook flinched. "I don’t expect him to. I just…" He swallowed hard. "I just need him to know the truth. That I was wrong. That I—"

"That you regret it?" Namjoon’s eyes softened slightly. "That’s not enough, Jungkook. Regret won’t fix what you did."

Jungkook’s throat tightened. He didn’t even have the right to cry.

But God, did it hurt.

Namjoon sighed again. "Look. Give him time. That’s the only thing you can do right now."

Jungkook bit his lip.

Time.

But what if time only pushed Jimin further away?

Jimin sat in his hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

He should’ve been relieved that he was finally awake.

But instead, all he felt was empty.

The pain in his body was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

Jungkook had hated him.

Jungkook had believed those horrible lies.

Jungkook had hit him.

And now Jungkook wanted to apologize?

What was the point?

It wouldn’t change the fact that Jungkook never trusted him.

It wouldn’t erase the months of silent suffering.

It wouldn’t take away the nights he cried himself to sleep, wondering what he had done wrong.

A single apology wouldn’t fix that.

Jimin blinked as a tear rolled down his cheek.

It was too late now.

Jungkook had already broken him.

And some things could never be repaired.

Jimin kept his expression neutral as he listened to his friends talk.

"Jungkook hasn’t gone home even once," Jin sighed, rubbing his temples. "He’s been standing outside this room since you were admitted, refusing to leave."

Jimin’s fingers clenched around the blanket. His heart twisted painfully.

"Doesn’t mean anything," he muttered.

"Jimin," Taehyung said softly. "He looks… broken."

Jimin swallowed hard.

Good. He should feel broken. That was what he had done to Jimin, after all.

So why did it still hurt to hear?

"You don’t have to forgive him," Yoongi said, watching Jimin closely. "But you should know… he’s suffering just as much as you are."

Jimin looked away.

He didn’t want to hear this.

He didn’t want to care.

But his heart had never learned how to stop loving Jeon Jungkook.

No matter how much it hurt.

His friends stayed with him for a while longer, making sure he was comfortable before deciding to head home for the night.

"Rest well, Jimin-ah," Hoseok said, ruffling his hair gently. "We’ll come back tomorrow."

Jimin forced a small smile. "Goodnight, hyungs."

One by one, they left.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Jimin’s forced composure shattered.

Jungkook hadn’t left.

Jungkook was still outside.

Even now…?

Jimin hesitated for a long moment.

Then, quietly, he swung his legs over the bed, wincing slightly at the pain in his ribs. Carefully, he slipped out of the room, making sure the nurses didn’t notice.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Slumped against the wall, fast asleep.

His face was pale, his lips dry. He looked exhausted—like he hadn’t eaten or rested properly in days. His hands were curled into fists in his lap, as if even in sleep, he was holding onto his pain.

Jimin’s heart ached.

Why was he still suffering like this?

Why hadn’t he gone home?

Why did he look like he was the one who had been hurt?

Jimin exhaled shakily.

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t.

But he did.

He always did.

Gritting his teeth, Jimin turned and walked toward the nurse’s station.

"Nurse," he whispered. "Can you… help me take him to my room?"

The nurse blinked. "Are you sure?"

Jimin nodded. "Please. He’ll get sick like this."

With gentle hands, the nurse and a staff member carefully lifted Jungkook and placed him in a wheelchair before transferring him onto the small hospital bed next to Jimin’s.

Jimin watched silently as Jungkook curled up slightly, his breath slow and deep.

His chest ached.

Slowly, Jimin reached out, brushing away the strands of hair sticking to Jungkook’s forehead.

You idiot, he thought, biting his lip. Why are you making this so hard for me?

Sighing, Jimin pulled the thin blanket over Jungkook’s body.

Then, for the first time in months, he allowed himself to take care of Jungkook the way he used to.

Silently. Lovingly.

Even if Jungkook would never know.

Jimin spent the entire night watching over Jungkook.

He made sure the blanket stayed tucked around him.

He checked his temperature, worried that Jungkook might have gotten sick.

He even adjusted Jungkook’s pillow when he noticed him shifting uncomfortably.

And yet, he knew none of this meant anything.

When Jungkook woke up, everything would go back to how it was.

Jimin would pretend not to care.

Jungkook would struggle to apologize.

They would both keep hurting.

Still, for now… Jimin let himself be soft.

Just for tonight.

Just until morning came and reality set in once more.

The next morning, Jungkook stirred.

His brows furrowed as he felt warmth near him. A familiar scent surrounded him—the scent of fresh soap and vanilla.

His eyes fluttered open.

And the first thing he saw was Jimin.

Jimin was sitting beside him, leaning against the headboard, fast asleep.

Jungkook’s heart clenched.

For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

Was he dreaming?

Was he dead?

Because this—Jimin being close again, Jimin’s presence surrounding him—felt like a dream.

Carefully, Jungkook shifted, trying not to wake him.

That’s when he noticed something.

A glass of water on the table next to him.

A folded blanket at the foot of the bed.

The pillow under his head, adjusted perfectly.

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

Had Jimin… taken care of him?

His chest tightened painfully.

Jimin still cared.

Even after everything.

Jungkook felt something wet slide down his cheek.

A tear.

He clenched his fists.

He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Jimin’s kindness, his quiet care, his silent concern.

But he wanted it.

He wanted it so badly, it hurt.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jungkook slowly reached out.

His fingers hovered over Jimin’s hand.

Should he…?

But before he could decide, Jimin stirred.

Jungkook immediately pulled his hand back.

Jimin blinked sleepily, his eyes still heavy with exhaustion. He yawned, stretching slightly—before suddenly freezing.

His gaze locked onto Jungkook.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

The silence was deafening.

Jimin’s expression turned unreadable.

And then—

"You should go home, Jungkook."

Jungkook’s breath caught.

Jimin’s voice was quiet. Distant.

Like nothing had changed.

Like last night hadn’t happened.

Like he hadn’t just spent the whole night caring for him.

Jungkook swallowed hard. "Jimin—"

"I don’t need you to stay here," Jimin interrupted, his tone emotionless. "I’m fine now. You don’t have to act like you care."

Jungkook flinched. "I do care—"

Jimin let out a hollow laugh. "You cared when you believed I was a liar? When you—" His voice cracked. He looked away. "It doesn’t matter."

Jungkook felt his heart shatter all over again.

It wasn’t that Jimin didn’t love him anymore.

It was worse than that.

Jimin still did love him.

But he had given up on Jungkook ever loving him back.

And that realization hurt more than anything.

Jimin’s words lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.

"You should go home, Jungkook."

Jungkook sat frozen, his heart aching at the coldness in Jimin’s tone.

But he didn’t leave.

He couldn’t leave.

"I know I don’t deserve to stay," Jungkook said quietly, his voice almost pleading. "But I do care, Jimin. I never stopped."

Jimin let out a bitter chuckle. "You cared enough to believe your cousin’s lies over me."

Jungkook flinched.

There was no defense for what he had done.

For all the times he had ignored Jimin’s pain.

For all the times he had let his hatred consume him.

For all the times he had hurt the person he once cherished the most.

"I was wrong," Jungkook whispered, his hands trembling. "I was so, so wrong, Jimin."

Jimin didn’t respond.

Instead, he turned his face away, staring out of the window.

His silence cut deeper than any words ever could.

Jungkook’s chest felt tight, like he was suffocating under the weight of his own mistakes.

He wanted to beg.

To scream.

To cry.

But none of it would change the fact that he had broken something between them—something so fragile, so precious—that no apology could ever truly fix.

Still, Jungkook couldn’t walk away.

Not now.

Not after realizing just how much Jimin had suffered in silence.

Not after seeing how much he still loved him despite everything.

"Jimin," Jungkook whispered, his voice barely audible.

Jimin didn’t turn around.

Didn’t acknowledge him.

Didn’t look at him.

And it hurt more than any physical wound ever could.

Jungkook exhaled shakily, forcing himself to stand.

"If you really want me to go, I will," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Jimin’s fingers curled slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

Jungkook took a step back.

Then another.

And then—

"I didn’t ask you to stay the night," Jimin murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook stopped in his tracks.

Jimin still wasn’t looking at him, but his grip on the blanket was tight.

Jungkook swallowed hard.

"I know," he admitted. "But you still took care of me."

Jimin’s shoulders tensed.

"You shouldn’t have."

Jungkook’s heart clenched.

"Why?" he asked, his voice raw.

"Because it makes it harder," Jimin whispered. "It makes it harder to hate you."

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

There it was.

The truth.

Jimin wanted to hate him.

He needed to hate him.

But he couldn’t.

Not completely.

Not when his heart still belonged to Jungkook.

Jungkook clenched his fists.

He had hurt Jimin so much.

But Jimin still loved him.

That realization was both heartbreaking and hopeful.

Because if love still existed between them—if even a small piece of it remained—then maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance.

A chance to make things right.

A chance to fight for Jimin the way he should have from the very beginning.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

"I won’t leave," he said softly.

Jimin finally turned to look at him.

His eyes were tired. Guarded.

"Then don’t expect me to forgive you," Jimin said.

Jungkook nodded. "I won’t. But I’m not giving up on you either."

Jimin’s lips parted slightly in surprise.

Jungkook held his gaze, determination burning in his eyes.

"I’ll wait, Jimin," he whispered. "No matter how long it takes, I’ll wait for you to believe in me again."

Jimin swallowed hard.

And for the first time in weeks, something in his gaze softened—just a little.

It wasn’t forgiveness.

Not yet.

But it was a start.

And Jungkook would hold onto that hope with everything he had.

The hours seemed to stretch endlessly as Jimin tried to find a comfortable position in his hospital bed, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on his chest.

Jungkook had promised not to leave. He had stayed in the room, sitting quietly in the corner, his eyes never leaving Jimin, even when Jimin refused to acknowledge him. His presence was a constant, even in the silence.

It was suffocating. But somehow, it was comforting too.

Jimin couldn’t bring himself to look at him. Not yet. The wound was too fresh, too raw. He didn’t know what hurt more—the way Jungkook had treated him or the fact that Jimin still wanted him.

The conflict raged inside him. He had loved Jungkook with everything he had—his heart, his soul. He had trusted him. And Jungkook had crushed that trust with a few words from his cousin. He had turned away without even asking Jimin for the truth.

Jimin was left to suffer alone, unsure of what was real, unsure of where he stood.

But now, Jungkook was here. His presence was overwhelming in a way that both terrified and comforted Jimin.

"Jimin," Jungkook’s voice cut through the silence, low and hesitant. "Can I get you anything?"

Jimin’s chest tightened. He closed his eyes, willing the emotion to go away.

"No," he replied, his voice quieter than he intended.

Jungkook shifted in his chair, clearly unsure of what to say or do.

“I’m not going anywhere," Jungkook repeated softly. "I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll spend every day showing you how sorry I am for that."

Jimin let out a soft sigh, his voice betraying him as it cracked. "Why now, Jungkook? Why after everything? Why do you care now?"

Jungkook’s face twisted with the question. He stood up, pacing the small room, his hands raking through his hair in frustration.

"Because I finally realized what I lost. It took seeing you hurt to wake up," Jungkook’s voice broke, the guilt heavy in his words. "I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I let you suffer all this time because of nothing. I was blind, Jimin."

Jimin bit his lip, refusing to let the tears fall.

"You don’t need to be here," he said firmly. "You’ve already made your choice."

Jungkook paused, his heart aching at Jimin’s words. "No, Jimin. I never chose to hurt you. But I made the mistake of listening to the wrong person. I let them twist everything, and I hurt you because of it."

Jimin’s fists clenched under the blanket. "I loved you with everything, Jungkook. Everything. And you threw that away."

Jungkook’s heart shattered at the pain in Jimin’s voice.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "I’m so sorry. Please believe me."

Jimin shook his head, tears finally slipping down his cheeks. "You have no idea how much that hurts. No idea."

The room fell into another silence.

Jungkook watched Jimin, his chest tightening at the sight of his tears. He couldn’t take it. The guilt was suffocating.

Finally, he stepped forward.

"I’ll stay with you," he said, kneeling beside the bed. "I won’t leave you alone, Jimin. Even if it’s just sitting here quietly, I’ll be here."

Jimin’s eyes flickered with something—perhaps regret, perhaps a spark of something he didn’t want to admit. He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure of anything right now.

But there was something about the way Jungkook was sitting there, so close but still not pushing, that made Jimin's heart waver.

The night fell, and Jimin’s friends began to leave, one by one. Namjoon, Jin, Taehyung, Yoongi, and J-Hope made sure to remind Jimin to rest, to take care of himself. They left with heavy hearts, knowing there was nothing they could do to fix the pain Jimin was enduring.

But it was when they were gone that the silence between Jimin and Jungkook grew louder.

Jimin lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, while Jungkook stood by the window, watching the night sky. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved. The tension was thick.

Jimin couldn’t sleep. The weight of his emotions pressed against his chest, suffocating him. The thought of forgiving Jungkook felt like a betrayal to his own heart, but at the same time, the part of him that still cared about Jungkook screamed to not let him go.

Jungkook, though, had been standing still for so long, barely moving. He looked like he was exhausted from fighting the guilt and regret that ate at him from the inside. He didn’t know what he was waiting for.

But then he saw it.

Jimin’s eyes were closed, but his lips were trembling.

And the way Jimin held himself—so still, so distant—it broke Jungkook's heart all over again.

He couldn’t stay silent anymore.

"Jimin," he whispered, his voice hoarse from unshed tears. "I’m here."

Jimin opened his eyes, not because he wanted to face him, but because he didn’t have the energy to stay awake anymore.

Jungkook took a slow step forward. "I’m not leaving."

Jimin didn’t look at him. "I don’t want you here."

Jungkook’s breath hitched, but he didn’t back away. "I know. But I’m not leaving."

A long pause passed. Jimin’s heart was a battlefield, torn between his love for Jungkook and the pain that he had endured.

Jimin exhaled, his voice barely a whisper. "You’ve already hurt me enough."

Jungkook’s heart shattered at the words. "I know, Jimin. I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it, if you’ll let me."

Jimin didn’t respond.

But Jungkook didn’t leave.

And that was enough for him.

He would prove himself.

One day at a time.

The days after Jimin’s friends had left felt like an eternity. The tension in the room had settled into an uneasy truce, an unsaid understanding that neither of them had acknowledged aloud. Jimin still wasn’t sure where to place his feelings—whether the love he once had for Jungkook still existed, or if it had been replaced by the bitterness of betrayal.

But one thing was certain: the heartache wasn’t easy to shake off.

Jungkook stayed at the hospital, unwilling to leave, even when he clearly needed rest. He’d sleep for a few hours, his body exhausted from the mental strain, only to wake up and sit in the chair beside Jimin’s bed. He’d stare at the floor, lost in thought, or sometimes he’d simply gaze at Jimin, as if trying to memorize every detail of his face.

It was painful for Jimin to look at him, but there was a part of him that longed to see Jungkook, to feel the comfort of his presence even though the trust had been shattered.

At night, when the room was quiet and still, Jimin would watch Jungkook as he struggled to sleep. The exhaustion weighed heavily on him. His shoulders sagged with guilt, and the constant sighs that escaped his lips told Jimin more than any words could.

One night, after Jungkook had tossed and turned for what felt like hours, Jimin finally broke the silence.

“Jungkook,” he said softly, his voice barely a whisper.

Jungkook didn’t respond at first, and for a moment, Jimin thought he hadn’t heard him. But then, Jungkook’s eyes flickered open, his gaze clouded with sleep but full of gratitude.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said, his voice raspy. "I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the chair. I—"

“It’s fine,” Jimin interrupted, his voice gentle. “You need sleep.”

Jungkook hesitated, then nodded, but he didn’t make any effort to get up. He stayed in his chair, his eyes still locked on Jimin.

Jimin let out a soft breath. He didn’t know why, but something inside him told him to take care of Jungkook. Despite everything, despite the hurt, he still felt that instinct to protect him.

Without saying a word, Jimin gently reached over and adjusted the blanket on Jungkook’s lap. Jungkook froze for a second, his body tensing, but he didn’t pull away. He let Jimin care for him, even though the distance between them felt unbearable.

Jimin didn’t look at him directly. He couldn’t. Instead, he focused on the small actions—tucking in the blanket, smoothing out the wrinkles in Jungkook’s shirt, brushing away a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

The room was so still that it felt like time had stopped.

Jungkook closed his eyes, fighting the urge to cry. The guilt was overwhelming. He didn’t deserve Jimin’s care, yet Jimin was there, silently tending to him as if nothing had changed.

Jimin’s hand lingered for a moment on Jungkook’s shoulder before pulling away. He didn’t say anything else. He just leaned back in his bed, staring at the ceiling as his own emotions twisted within him.

But that small act of care—no matter how fleeting—spoke volumes.

The next day, Jimin’s friends returned, though they kept their visits short. They had their suspicions, but none of them dared to confront Jimin about what was happening between him and Jungkook. The tension was palpable, and they could see the silent care Jimin was showing Jungkook.

They didn’t say anything.

Jin, Namjoon, Taehyung, Yoongi, and J-Hope all entered the room, one by one, and sat down around Jimin’s bed, but their eyes would often drift to Jungkook, who was still sitting in the same chair by the window, as if lost in thought.

They didn’t acknowledge it directly, but they all noticed.

They could see how Jungkook was staying, how he was constantly by Jimin’s side, how he didn’t leave even when he was exhausted. The quiet moments they shared, even though they didn’t speak, told their own story.

Jimin, for his part, didn’t show his feelings in front of his friends. He didn’t let them see how his heart hurt or how conflicted he was. He wore his mask well.

“Jimin, are you feeling better?” Jin asked, a forced smile on his face, though he was clearly worried about his friend.

“I’m fine,” Jimin replied, his tone calm and collected, though his eyes never strayed from Jungkook.

The others exchanged glances.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure? Because if you need to talk…”

Jimin simply nodded, cutting him off before he could continue. “I’m fine.”

It wasn’t a lie, not really. He was getting better. His body was healing, and the wounds from the accident were slowly fading. But the emotional wounds—the ones inflicted by Jungkook—were still raw.

Namjoon observed everything quietly, but he didn’t say anything. He had always been the wise one in the group, and he knew better than to push Jimin when he wasn’t ready.

As the afternoon wore on, Jimin’s friends finally said their goodbyes, leaving the hospital room one by one. They didn’t show their concern openly, but they all felt it. They all saw the bond between Jimin and Jungkook and how it was slowly healing, even if neither of them admitted it yet.

Once they were all gone, the silence between Jimin and Jungkook returned.

Jimin, as always, couldn’t bring himself to look at Jungkook directly. He wanted to, but he couldn’t.

Jungkook, however, didn’t move. He stayed where he was, his gaze never straying from Jimin. His heart was heavy with regret, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

That night, when the hospital was quieter than usual, Jimin noticed Jungkook’s exhaustion more clearly. His eyelids were drooping, his face pale from lack of sleep. He had been up all day, watching over Jimin and making sure he was okay, even though Jimin had never asked for it.

Jimin’s heart twisted. He couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Against his better judgment, he reached out for the cup of water on his bedside table. With a steady hand, he passed it to Jungkook.

“Drink,” he said softly, his voice carrying an edge of concern.

Jungkook hesitated before taking the cup, his eyes locking with Jimin’s for a brief moment. He said nothing, but the gratitude in his eyes spoke volumes.

He drank the water in silence, savoring the simple act of Jimin caring for him.

When he finished, he placed the cup back on the table, and once again, their eyes met.

Jimin said nothing, but his actions—his small acts of care—spoke louder than any words ever could.

And Jungkook, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, felt something stir inside him—a spark of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for them

The hospital room was quieter than ever. The soft hum of the machines, the faint rustling of papers, and the distant sound of nurses' footsteps were the only things breaking the stillness.

Jimin shifted in his bed, unable to ignore the sight of Jungkook sitting in the same position he had been for hours. His body slouched, his eyes dull with exhaustion, and his shoulders heavy with the weight of guilt. Jimin had seen this look before—on Jungkook, and even on himself. The look of someone who had been through too much, but didn’t know how to escape it.

Jimin couldn’t take it anymore. The ache in his chest grew with every minute that passed, watching Jungkook destroy himself this way.

“Jungkook-ah…” Jimin said, his voice softer than the air around them, but it still cut through the silence.

Jungkook didn’t look up, his eyes fixed on the floor, too ashamed to face Jimin. He had hurt him, after all. How could he ever look at Jimin again without seeing the scars of his actions?

But then, Jimin shifted in his bed, pulling the covers aside, his arms opening wide in a silent invitation. His heart raced, but he didn’t let it show. He didn’t care anymore. He needed Jungkook—needed him, even if they were broken.

“Jungkook…” Jimin whispered again, his arms stretched further, his body longing for Jungkook to take that step.

Jungkook hesitated for a long time, unsure of what to do. His mind screamed at him to stay away, to protect himself from the hurt he had caused. But his heart, the part of him that had always been connected to Jimin, pulled him closer.

Slowly, almost like a fragile thread holding them together, Jungkook stood and walked to Jimin’s bed. His steps were slow, uncertain, but Jimin didn’t look away.

Without a word, Jungkook lay down beside Jimin, his head resting on the pillow, his body curling into the warmth Jimin offered.

For a moment, they both just stayed like that, silent, as if time had stopped. Jungkook’s exhaustion weighed down on him, his breath slow and uneven as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

Jimin’s arms remained around him, offering him comfort without any need for words. But his heart was breaking.

“Jungkook…” Jimin whispered, his voice barely audible, as he held him tighter. “Why are you doing this? Why are you torturing yourself?”

Jungkook’s chest heaved as he tried to stifle his sobs. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. The weight of his actions, the regret, the guilt—it all came crashing down in a flood of tears. He didn’t make a sound at first, but Jimin felt the wetness on his chest as Jungkook clung to him, his body trembling with emotion.

“I’m sorry, Jimin… I’m so sorry,” Jungkook choked out between sobs. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to…”

Jimin’s heart shattered even more, hearing the pain in Jungkook’s voice. His own tears welled up, but he didn’t let them fall. He had to be strong for Jungkook, even if his heart was breaking.

“Jungkook,” Jimin said softly, his hand moving to Jungkook’s hair, gently stroking it as he spoke. “You’re not only torturing yourself. You’re torturing me too.”

Jungkook’s grip tightened around him, as if he was afraid that Jimin might push him away. But Jimin didn’t. He just continued to hold him, not caring about the past, not caring about the betrayal.

“I’m hurt, Jungkook,” Jimin whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m hurt because I can’t see you like this. You’re my everything, Jungkook. You’ve always been. And I love you… I love you so much, more than you could ever know. Romantically.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest as he pulled back slightly to look into Jimin’s eyes.

“You love me…?” Jungkook whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with disbelief and confusion.

Jimin nodded, his tears finally falling freely now. “Yes, I love you. I’ve always loved you, but I never told you because I didn’t want to burden you. I didn’t want to risk losing you, but I can’t stand seeing you hurt. I can’t stand seeing you like this…”

Jungkook’s eyes widened as the weight of Jimin’s words sank in. He had been too focused on his own guilt to see how much Jimin had been suffering, too consumed by his own feelings of betrayal to notice the quiet love that Jimin had always offered him.

“I never meant to hurt you, Jimin,” Jungkook whispered, his voice shaking as his tears continued to fall. “I was a fool. I believed the lies. I was too angry to see the truth. I’m so sorry…”

Jimin held him tighter, his tears mingling with Jungkook’s. “I know you didn’t mean it, Jungkook. But it hurt. It hurt more than you’ll ever understand. I loved you so much, and all I wanted was for you to trust me, to believe in me. But now… now I’m scared.”

“Scared…?” Jungkook asked, his heart breaking.

Jimin nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared you don’t trust me anymore. I’m scared you’ll never forgive me for what happened. I’m scared that we’re too broken to fix…”

Jungkook shook his head, his hands gently cupping Jimin’s face as he wiped away his tears. “No, Jimin… we can fix this. We can fix everything. I promise you, we can heal. I’ll make it right. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you believe in me again.”

Jimin closed his eyes, his chest tightening as he allowed himself to feel the hope that Jungkook’s words sparked. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a glimmer of light in the darkness that had consumed their relationship.

“I want to believe you, Jungkook. I want to believe in us…”

And in that moment, with their hearts laid bare and their tears shared between them, they both knew that healing would take time. But as long as they were together, they had a chance.

The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. But for the first time, Jimin believed they could make it. Together.

The night stretched on, but the weight that had once been so heavy between Jimin and Jungkook had shifted. There was no more distance, no more silent resentments between them. Instead, they found themselves holding on to each other, not just physically, but emotionally as well. Jimin didn’t pull away, and Jungkook didn’t let go. They clung to one another as if their very lives depended on it.

Jungkook’s tears had slowed, but the soft sobs still racked his body as he lay beside Jimin. The room was dim, the only light coming from the soft glow of the hospital bedside lamp. Jimin’s fingers gently combed through Jungkook’s hair, smoothing out the tension from his scalp as if he were trying to erase every lingering moment of pain from the past.

“Jungkook,” Jimin whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you trust me enough to ask?”

Jungkook shifted in the bed, his face still buried against Jimin’s chest, as if afraid to face him fully. But he didn’t answer right away. The question lingered in the air, unanswered for a while, as the weight of it settled on both of their hearts.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jungkook spoke, his voice hoarse and full of regret. “I was afraid. Afraid of what I would find if I asked you. I let my anger take over... and I shut you out. I thought I could protect myself by pushing you away. But I was wrong.”

Jimin’s heart broke at the sound of those words. He had always known Jungkook had a tendency to protect himself, to hide behind walls of pride and anger. But hearing it spoken aloud, feeling the guilt in his voice, made Jimin’s chest ache all over again.

“You don’t have to protect yourself from me, Jungkook,” Jimin said, his voice tender, almost pleading. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to be with you. But you pushed me away, and I didn’t know how to fight for us anymore…”

Jungkook’s arms tightened around Jimin, his fingers trembling as they gripped the fabric of Jimin’s shirt. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. You were always there for me. Always so gentle, so kind. And I… I hurt you. I hurt the one person I never wanted to hurt.”

Jimin stayed quiet for a long while, just holding him, breathing in the familiar scent of Jungkook’s skin, trying to let the words settle into his heart. The pain had been deep, yes, but maybe—just maybe—they could start again. Maybe they could heal together.

“Jungkook…” Jimin said, his voice shaky, but firm. “I’ve been hurting too. But we’re not strangers anymore. Not to me. I never stopped loving you.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched again, and this time, he lifted his head to look into Jimin’s eyes. The tear tracks on his cheeks glistened under the dim light, but there was something softer in his gaze now—a sense of understanding, of hope.

“You… you still love me?” Jungkook whispered, as if he couldn’t believe it.

Jimin nodded, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips, despite the tears that still clung to his lashes. “I do. I’ve loved you from the beginning. And I always will.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, feeling a tear slip down his cheek, and for once, he didn’t try to hide it. His heart swelled with emotion, overwhelming him in ways he couldn’t explain. All the confusion, all the pain, all the regret—everything seemed to melt away in the warmth of Jimin’s words.

“I don’t deserve you, Jimin,” Jungkook said, his voice cracking. “But I’m not giving up on us. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

Jimin held him even tighter, pulling him close as if to say he didn’t need to prove anything anymore. That their love, despite everything, was enough.

“You don’t have to prove anything, Jungkook. Just stay with me. We’ll heal together, slowly. One step at a time.”

Jungkook nodded against him, his face buried in the crook of Jimin’s neck as he inhaled deeply, letting the sound of Jimin’s heartbeat soothe him.

Outside, their friends—Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Hoseok—had been watching them from the doorway, silent spectators to this moment of vulnerability. They had witnessed the pain, the anger, and now, the love that was beginning to bloom again between Jimin and Jungkook. They hadn’t interrupted, knowing this was something Jimin and Jungkook had to work through together.

But now, seeing the peace settle over the two of them, they couldn’t help but smile softly to themselves. They were happy to see their friends on the path to healing.

Taehyung was the first to speak up, his voice barely a whisper. “They’ll be okay.”

Yoongi nodded, though his face remained calm, as always. “They’re strong. They’ll get through it.”

Hoseok, ever the optimist, smiled brightly. “They always have each other. That’s all that matters.”

Namjoon, who had always been the voice of reason, spoke last. “Love is messy. But it’s worth it. I think they’ve learned that now.”

Jin chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and pride. “Yeah, we’ve all been through a lot. But they’re not alone anymore.”

With that, the five of them quietly left the room, leaving Jimin and Jungkook alone to work through the silence between them.

As the door clicked shut, Jimin leaned back against his pillow, still holding Jungkook close. Jungkook, exhausted from the emotional toll of the night, slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep in Jimin’s arms, his breathing soft and steady.

Jimin kissed the top of his head gently, brushing the hair from Jungkook’s forehead as he whispered, “We’ll be okay, Jungkook. I promise.”

And for the first time in a long while, Jimin truly believed it.

The days that followed were a blur of small moments, each one more significant than the last. The tension between Jimin and Jungkook had melted away, replaced by a quiet but undeniable understanding. They both knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but it was one they would face together, as they should have all along.

Jimin’s discharge from the hospital had come sooner than expected. The doctors were satisfied with his progress, and although the physical wounds were healing, the emotional scars were still there—yet, this time, they felt different. There was a weight, but it wasn’t unbearable. It was the weight of growth, of lessons learned.

Jungkook stood beside Jimin as he was prepared to leave the hospital. The rest of their friends—Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Hoseok—had all gathered outside Jimin’s room, watching the two of them interact. There was something so tender in the way Jungkook gently guided Jimin out of the bed, making sure he didn’t rush the process.

“Careful,” Jungkook said, his voice soft, his hand steady on Jimin’s back. “You’ve been through a lot.”

Jimin smiled up at him, his heart swelling with affection. “I’m fine, Jungkook. Don’t worry about me.”

But Jungkook couldn’t help it. He worried, every moment of every day, and he hated the fact that he had ever allowed his pride to create this distance between them. Seeing Jimin so fragile, yet so strong in his recovery, made Jungkook feel something even deeper—a sense of gratitude he couldn’t put into words.

“Jimin, are you sure you want to go home now?” Jin asked, his voice full of concern. “I mean, you could stay at the hospital a bit longer—"

“No,” Jimin interrupted, a soft smile on his lips. “I’ll be fine. I just want to go home. I’ll be better there, I know it.”

And just like that, they were out of the hospital, stepping into the warm embrace of the outside world. The others followed closely behind, making sure Jimin wasn’t overexerting himself. Their quiet presence spoke volumes, and Jimin appreciated the fact that they didn't ask questions about the deep things happening between him and Jungkook. They had been there, seen the worst of it, and now they were simply waiting, offering their support in the quietest ways possible.

At home, it was almost like the world had paused. The apartment, once filled with the echo of empty conversations, now felt like a place of healing. Jungkook carefully set Jimin down on the couch, making sure he was comfortable before sitting beside him.

“Jungkook,” Jimin said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can we talk?”

Jungkook turned his head to face him, their eyes meeting for the first time without the weight of resentment or anger between them. It was just understanding. Pure, unfiltered understanding.

“Of course. About everything, right?” Jungkook replied, his voice strained with emotion.

Jimin nodded slowly. “About everything.”

Their friends were still there, lingering in the background, quietly watching over them. Taehyung had already prepared tea for everyone, trying to bring some lightness to the mood, while Hoseok and Jin chatted quietly to keep things from feeling too heavy. Namjoon and Yoongi sat together, their silence speaking volumes, while they allowed Jimin and Jungkook the space they needed to figure things out.

After a few moments, Jimin spoke, his eyes fixed on the cup of tea in his hands. “You know... I was angry at you for a while. But I realized, the more I stayed angry, the more I pushed you away. And I never wanted to do that. I just wanted you to trust me.”

Jungkook’s heart clenched at the raw honesty in Jimin’s words. “I never meant to hurt you, Jimin. I was lost, confused by the lies. I let them cloud everything we had. And now, I’m so sorry.”

Jimin looked at him, his eyes soft but full of emotion. “Jungkook, you don’t have to apologize. I know you didn’t mean it. But I also know that we need to build something new. We can’t keep carrying the weight of the past. Not anymore.”

Just as Jimin finished speaking, Jungkook stood up, taking a deep breath as he reached into his pocket. His friends—all five of them—looked on, knowing what was coming next, though they said nothing. This moment was for Jimin and Jungkook. They had suffered enough. It was time for healing, for new beginnings.

Jungkook knelt down in front of Jimin, and everyone held their breath. The room fell into a hushed silence, as Jungkook pulled out a small box, the silver of the ring glistening in the light.

“Jimin,” Jungkook whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve you, not after everything I’ve put you through. But I’m here now, and I want to prove to you that I’ll spend the rest of my life making things right. I want to be with you, forever.”

Jimin blinked back tears, his heart racing as Jungkook opened the box, revealing the simple yet elegant ring that had been carefully chosen.

“Will you marry me, Jimin?” Jungkook asked, his voice filled with love, hope, and a quiet desperation.

Jimin’s hands trembled as he reached out, his breath catching in his throat. “Jungkook…” he whispered. “Yes. I will. I’ve always wanted to be with you.”

Jungkook’s face lit up with a mixture of joy and relief, and in that moment, everything felt right. Their past was a part of them, yes, but it no longer defined them. What mattered now was the future, and they had all the time in the world to figure it out—together.

The room erupted in soft cheers as the friends gathered around, not just in celebration of the engagement, but of the healing that had taken place between Jimin and Jungkook. The pain was still there, but it no longer had the power to tear them apart.

As Jimin looked around at his friends, who had supported him through it all, he smiled. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice full of gratitude. “For being here. For never giving up on us.”

Namjoon patted him on the back, smiling warmly. “You don’t need to thank us. We’re your family. We’ll always be here.”

Jimin looked at Jungkook, his heart swelling with love. “And I’ll always be here, too. I love you.”

“I love you more,” Jungkook whispered back, his voice thick with emotion.

They leaned in, pressing their lips together in a tender kiss, and the world outside seemed to disappear. In this moment, they had everything they needed—each other, and the love that had been waiting patiently all along.