Yo yo yo let's get these books updated... I might have to take a break off my books for a while because of an important exam I have, but I'll let you know all the deets later.

For the lovely damnchocolate

《And I try to stay strong, I swear I do, but sometimes, it's all far too much, and I'm left cornered.
But I remember,
Our happy place was a garden, right?
Filled with pretty plants, and a beautiful you》

- cute-namjoonie ♡

JIMIN'S POV

My head pounded as I cracked an eye open, met with a dark, hollow room. I turned to the clock, the blurry outline of 6:53am burning into my sockets.

"Yoongi?" I mustered, hauling myself up to rest on my palms. I was met with no reply, just as I had thought. I coughed when the heavy stench of vomit stung my nostrils, making me gag and screw my nose up. The room was lifeless; no laughter or love to be shared. By the bed, was an ash tray, a packet of cigarettes and Yoongi's signature black lighter, all untouched. My legs quivered as I hauled myself up, breathing matching the quiet patter of rain.

I held onto the bedside table for support, feeling the coarse splintered wood harsh against my fingertips. I plucked the cool plastic lighter, slipping it into my pocket, gulping when I picked up the packet of cigarettes.

"Yoongi! Stop smoking, you're making the place stink."
"You love how badass I look when I smoke though, don't you?"
"Yoongi, you're gonna die early if you keep at it."
"What if I already am dead? What if I'm in heaven right now?"
"Yoongi, what the hell makes you say that?"
"Because damn, you're so beautiful I could mistake you for an angel."
I felt my cheeks heat up, each inch of skin burning and itching as I tried not to cringe at his remark. He throatily chuckled, placing the cigarette in between his pale pink lips and puffing out plumes of light grey smoke. It rose, creating a small cloud right above is head, and I hated to admit that he did look attractive with that death-stick between his lips.

I groaned, tightening my grip on the box, before pivoting and throwing it at the wall. Pure frustration coursed through me, but I attempted to maintain myself, clutching the jacket that hung on the chair beside me. Angry, short, sharp breaths fell from my lips, my forehead creasing into a deep frown. I swiped the purse from the light brown desk, remembering how I would try to tutor Yoongi.

"Yeah, but Jimin... I can't understand."
"You can't? Or you don't want to?"
"A bit of both."
His eyes drifted over the paper, lazily skimming each equation as he tapped the end of the pencil against his lower lip. His other hand was running through his hair, pushing black the blonde locks to allow glimpses of his forehead peek through. His eyebrows knitted in confusion, pencil harshly thrown onto the tabletop, an annoyed groan emitting from deep at the back of his throat.
"I can't do it! I can't fucking do it, Park Jimin. Help me, help me you asshole."
"Is that any ways to really speak to your boyfriend?"
"Like I give a shit."
"Keep testing your luck and I swe-,"
Before I could finish my sentence, a chapped pair of lips settled against my own, fingers cradling my face. I instantly melted into the kiss, my own hands exploring his shoulders, shifting and intertwining with locks of hair. He pulled away, kissing my forehead and moving the paper aside.
"Maybe this can wait."
And all I could do was nod, completely and utterly under his spell.

I was out of the house, locking up the door and feeling the cold gust of wind billow at my back. I shivered, the cool metal of the keys not helping with the situation at all. My drained fingertips allowed the metal to fall to the floor with a sharp 'clang ', and I found myself dumbly reaching out for the shiny keys. Yoongi's words of "if you ever lose my spare keys, I'll kill you" rang out through my head, making my eyes widen and grip the keys tighter, forcing the jagged edge to dent into my skin.

I checked the door was locked, immediately speed-walking away after. The only thought on my mind was Yoongi, and I felt a hot flush of tears burden my cheeks. I choked out a painful sob into the collar of my jacket, allowing the droplets to seep into the fabric.

Hospital. Must get to the hospital.

My short legs began moving faster, eventually forcing me into a run, each twist and turn of the road engraved into my memory. My breathing faltered, my sight blurring for a moment and halting my feet. I felt my knees hit the hard concrete, making me yelp and shudder, tears immediately pricking my eyes. I raised my head, the unfocused sign of the hospital burning into my line of sight and I was attempting to get up, but my legs were heavy and uncooperative. Groaning softly, I rested against the pavement for a bit, kneeling beneath the pale sky of dawn.

Eventually, I picked myself up, shaking my head and stumbling to my feet. My knees were sore, calves numb from running and throat dry from the invasion of cold morning air; but I had to get up, for Yoongi. I dragged my feet against the concrete slabs, shoving the glass panel of the hospital door open, watching as the receptionist darkly stared at me. Her gaze wasn't menacing, it was pity-ridden and sympathetic. She wordlessly allowed me to go through, nodding in acknowledgement as I passed the desk.

The room was quiet, just as I had expected. Minus the occasional beeping and the sound of Yoongi's exaggerated breathing against the oxygen mask, the room was peaceful and still. I silently grabbed the white fold-up chair, placing it beside Yoongi's hospital bed, collapsing onto the flimsy plastic in a heap of sobs. I couldn't help it; watching as he laid in the hospital bed, not knowing whether he would survive, wrenched ugly wails from my throat and let tears spill from my sore eyes.

"N-Not t-true! N-None of th-this is true!" I screamed, voice cracking and breaking as I watched Yoongi's unchanging facial features. I tried to compose myself, the occasional sob ripping through my lips, as I wrapped my fingers around his left hand. I trailed a small semicircle around his ring finger, weakly smiling at the lifeless digit.

"When you... when you wake up, I want to get married to you. I w-want th-that Min Y-Yoongi, ok? It can be small, but I just want you to know that I'm yours, and I'm never going to give up on you. Never. S-So don't g-give up on me either ok? W-wake up, ok? Promise me. I know you can't speak right now, but I hope you're listening. I miss you, I miss everything about you: even your smoking habit, even your inability to do maths without making out. What did you always say? You only know the maths that happens between me and you, and I never really understood that. You'd always say "it all adds up in the end" and I'd laugh at your stupid jokes, and I'd always say I hate them, but Yoongi I don't. I don't hate them. I take that all back if it means you're here with me, by my side, making more terrible jokes. I want that. I want to be there, all old, and be like "it all adds up" and we laugh, and every night I'll feel the ring on my finger and be like 'woah, I'm actually Min Jimin, huh?' And then I'll fall asleep next to you, and I wouldn't want it any other way. Would you like that Yoongi?"

And as if heaven wanted to mess with me anymore, through the tears and hiccups, I felt the slight strain of his hand cupping back against my own. The feeling was light, but I swear it was there.

"Yoongi, why do you always call me an angel?"
"Because you're beautiful, heck, you're perfect, baby."
"Seriously, Yoongi, I have loads of things going wrong, I'm not perfect, don't say that," I protested. His fingertips laced with my own, squeezing slightly.
"All the bad things that happen here, on Earth, is just Heaven trying to get revenge on Earth for taking you away. You're perfect to me, and I wouldn't want you any other way."
"Heaven... getting revenge?"
"Of course, I mean, look what they lost out on," he smirked, pulling me in for a kiss.
"My beautiful, beautiful angel."
I felt tears fall from my eyes, but Yoongi just held me closer, mumbling those perfect words against my lips.

"Heaven getting revenge huh?" I whispered, tensing when I felt the tightness around my hand again, the feeling - lost in a heartbeat.