"Even when a star dies, it gives birth to another one. It's mere existence is life and growth. One day I wish to be as infinite as the stars. To exist forever, if at least in their hearts."
When you left, you were not looking for a savior.
When he...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⋄⋱∞◃⊱◐⊰▸∞⋰⋄
Grief comes in waves.
It's like the tide, pushing and pulling and pushing and pulling until there's nothing left but the barren coarse grain of the sand. It's a cruel game that is played, desperate moments of regret and despair, and time that seems to stretch out before you. Neverending in its torment.
When Jimin stands in front of that door, he can feel it turning over in his stomach. He doesn't know what he feels, he doesn't know how he will react once he sees what lies behind the plaster of metal and concrete. All he can feel is the numbing fear in his gut as the letters of her name blur and mix in his present delirium.
So when he places his hand on the handle, the rise of bile grows so present and bitter that he has to fight the urge to throw up as he pulls open the door, and lays his eyes on the woman he loves.
And his heart breaks.
She lies there, wires protruding from her nostrils, injected into the flesh of her arms, attaching her to a beeping machine that's keeping her alive. Her skin is pale, almost translucent. Her hair has lost all its color and life from beneath the fluorescent lights, almost as though it were being sucked right out of her. She looks thinner than she was before. Her bones protruding from beneath her skin and making her seem fragile, almost broken.
When he reaches her side, he sees the bruises. The painful markings covering her body from head to toe. Scars and wounds peeking out from beneath her bandages, battering her body into a vision of black and blue, tearing her apart from the inside out. She looks hollowed out, as though they had leached her very soul away, tainted it beyond repair.
As though she were a doll trying to fit the broken pieces back together again.
Reaching forward with shaking hands, he places them on her cheeks and nearly collapses in relief when he finds they're still warm, thankful for the simple fact that her skin has not yet turned cold.
And at that thought, that simple understanding, his heart warms away the numbness and brings forth with it a tidal wave of overwhelming grief. Hot and raging as it afflicts him from the innermost parts of his heart. Pouring out of him in tears and screams as he kneels before her, gripping her lifeless hand as though it were his only lifeline. His lighthouse within the storm.
"What have they done to you?"
His voice breaks as he himself shatters into pieces. As a wound opens up from inside him and tears him apart over and over and over again. No comfort welcome to appease him, no encouraging word left to let him know he is not alone, only the warmth of her skin, and the feeling of her hand within his is able to keep him together, even if it is at the seams.
