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It’s cold and dark behind his eyelids.
It’s not completely dark, and it never will be considering all of the light surrounding him. But even if it was pitch dark around him, he wouldn’t be afraid of the darkness. After all, he has never been and he wouldn’t start now.
His mother, on the other hand, has always been scared of the night for him as if she vicariously feared what could be under his bed or inside his closet. The notion of monsters lurking in the night was not only fictitious but ridiculous to him. At a young age he was already opposing that theory because he figured that they had no way to enter in the first place. Nightlights were an object of obsolescence because why need light when your eyes are closed anyway? And the crack of the door leading to an illuminated hallway was a waste of energy.
But despite the fact that light is sometimes useless in the dark, he knew that there was always comfort in the darkness. With eyes closed, how can you be afraid? You can’t see danger nor expect it, so how is the darkness any more threatening than the light?
The light is far more intimidating and overwhelming, overloading your senses and forcing you to move because of the natural obligation to work that has been associated with light since the beginning of man.
In the darkness, however, there are no worries and no pressure to optimize on what little light there is because the darkness is rightfully associated with rest.
Light is demanding, the darkness is forgiving.
And in the darkness is the comfort of ignorance, and in the comfort of ignorance is limitless bliss; fleeting, almost intangible bliss only achievable with eyes closed.
With his eyes closed completely, it’s no longer cold and dark, for Seokjin manipulates the darkness and replaces it with its opposite: Taehyung.
Glowing, smiling Taehyung who is barefooted and dancing in the middle of the field with his hands up over his head and his white shirt flowing with the wind. This is the intangible bliss that he thinks about when he closes his eyes: Taehyung, with all his beauty and elegance, leaving the hospital in his past to find joy in a sunflower field.
He bounds closer to the blonde in front of him, who offers a hand to take, and a smile plasters on his face. In his mind, they’re sharing a conversation about the sun and how good it feels on their skin. His pale skin shines brightly in the light, almost as if he is radiating it. He imagines Taehyung smiling as they intertwine their fingers. Before he knows it, they’re leaning in closer, lips centimeters apart, and—
“Mr. Kim!”
Nineteen-year-old Seokjin startles in his seat, his eyes bulging out from behind his eyelids to meet his professor's icy gaze. He is currently in Seoul National University’s medical school building, specifically the one for his Anatomy and Physiology class, and he curses himself for letting his eyes close during the lecture.
The professor, an old, balding man of impressive stature, crosses his arms and glares at him. “I believe I told you all that sleeping during my class is intolerable.” Blood rushes to his face as a few students giggle next to him as if he hadn’t caught them sleeping in this class before. The professor gestures to the slideshow projected onto the board. “Now, if you’re done resting, answer: what cancer is shown in the example above, how does it occur, and why?”
Humiliation aside, Seokjin knows this, and, thankfully, cancers and all things around the thoracic cavity are his strong suits. He raises his head confidently. “The cancer shown is malignant melanoma, a potentially deadly cancer that arises from melanocytes.” The others around him go quiet as they realize Seokjin’s intelligence outweighs their own. “Too much exposure to the sun leads to a rapid duplication of melanin in skin cells, risking error and leading to cancers such as this.”
“Correct.” The professor, who was aiming to embarrass him, gives him an appreciative nod instead. He breathes a sigh of relief.
In continuing the lecture, the professor beings talking about skin cancers with very disturbing yet educational photos as his aid. He then goes into hospital procedures and how these cancers are treated in a hospital with the equipment and operation room videos here and there. At the sight of the white rooms on the PowerPoint slides, Seokjin seems to not be able to pay attention any longer. Any glance at hospital rooms and his mind is already on Taehyung. Beautiful, all-deserving Taehyung whose smile brightens the room and whose presence shines and reflects against the white dullness of the room.
Seokjin’s heart wrenches at the thought of his friend of thirteen years being isolated in the hospital room for his whole life, and he feels helpless at the fact.
A student at the front of the lecture hall raises his hand and asks a question about heart tumors, something along the lines of whether or not they are dangerous. “They’re benign, heart tumors,” the professor answers, “They become malignant if other malignant tumors metastasize to the heart.”
The heart, again, is one of Seokjin’s strong suits.
The heart beats with rhythm, using its powers to pump blood and circulate the body with the richness of life. Its vitality makes it precious, but in cases like Taehyung’s, who has a rare case of tachycardia, the heart is rendered useless. He didn’t understand it at all when he was younger. Taehyung was healthy through his young eyes with the same height and age as him: how could he be ill? From Seokjin’s understanding and from what his father told him when he was ten, Taehyung’s heart is aging at an abnormal rate; any exercise for even a short amount of time can leave him with a heart attack or send him into cardiac arrest.
He remembers being seven years old and taking Taehyung by the hand and leading him to the hospital corridor, saying let’s race. Taehyung was reluctant and shook his head vehemently: mama will get mad , he said, I can’t , but Seokjin coaxed him into it.
A few steps into the race and Taehyung was already panting, clenching at the clothes on his chest like it would remedy the pain or keep the pain from spreading throughout his body. Shaking, Seokjin stood above him, asking are you alright? over and over again while his own heart was beating a mile per minute and tears were falling down his round cheeks. It wasn’t until nurses rushed out of their hospital rooms and took Taehyung into the emergency room did he realize the severity of his actions, and his father kept them away for about three months after that.
The professor ends his lecture with a sigh and Seokjin felt like he missed a whole hour of information. “The heart is precious, treat it right,” he says out of genuine concern as if he learned this from experience.
Seokjin bounds over as the lecture hall clears, asking the professor more about the heart as he swings his backpack onto his broad shoulders. “Sir, do you know anything about tachycardia?” he asks after a polite bow.
“Tachycardia? Yes, irregular heartbeat.” He taps the papers against the table to settle them together in a straight pile and sets them down, glancing at Seokjin as he finishes. “Why do you ask?”
“And you know of no cure?” Seokjin says impatiently instead of answering the professor’s question. The latter shakes his head quickly, answering the obvious. “Then what does it take to find one?”
The professor lets out a loud laugh. “A lot of work and time,” he replies with a huff, reaching over to plug out the chord connecting his computer to the projector. “And a whole lot of patience.”
“But if I really wanted to do it, would it be possible?” he asks. “With my age and everything, I think I could do it.”
“Sure, for people at your age, time is limitless,” the professor replies, not knowing that time is Seokjin’s biggest problem right now. “With your experience, however, you might have to reconsider. Hospitals and laboratories won’t accept just anyone with a lab coat and a degree from SNU, you know that.”
Seokjin’s hand clenches into a fist. He knows this more than anyone. “I think I’m determined enough to gain this experience. I think I can do it.”
“Determination isn’t enough either. And since you may not even be accepted into a lab company or a hospital to sponsor your research, you need money. And a team,” Seokjin nods. He doesn’t know about a team but he does have a lot of money, and if that money isn’t enough he can always work. Anything is enough for Taehyung’s cure. It doesn’t matter to him if it takes years of his life and precious time to sleep. Taehyung has been suffering his whole life. A few years out of Seokjin’s won’t hurt him. Time is the problem now, and Seokjin fears that he’s running out of it.
“Thank you, Doctor Kwon,” he says sincerely before turning to the door.
“And Seokjin!” the professor calls after him. He turns and gives him a confused expression. “Don’t forget you’ll need to do a lot of extensive research. Labs, tests, the works.”
And research he did. Very extensively.
From following his father to the hospital every chance that he could to staying up until two in the morning on school nights to research anything about potential cures, Seokjin was more than determined to do this.
And even if he might miss a couple of classes and forgot to hand in some assignments by the due date, nothing could stop him now. He was already on the track and, ironically, the finish line was too far away to give up now. There’s something at the end of that finish line and its Taehyung. Taehyung and his beautiful smile and beach blonde hair.
Now Seokjin sits at his desk, headphones in and blasting his favorite Seventeen song as he reads through his father’s old research paper on the heart, its functions, and how other diseases contribute to its deterioration. The paper is wrinkled under his fingers and a bit yellow from all of the years it has spent in his father’s office, but the words on each page are precious next steps to gifting Taehyung the life he deserves.
He’s about to flip the page and continue reading about the vessels and chambers surrounding the heart when he hears a loud slam from behind him.
“Seokjin!” The sound of his father’s booming voice startles him from his seat at his desk, and his headphones come flying off of his ears in a hurry as if he was doing something illegal or watching some corny porno on his Macbook that he doesn’t want his father to know about. “What are you so focused on that you—wait, is that my research paper?”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he shoves the paper away like it’s a secret. His father eyes him strangely. “What’s up?” he asks, turning to his father and crossing his arms across his chest.
His father bounds closer, walking into his room. “I appreciate you reading my paper, I know, I’m a genius researcher,” Seokjin rolls his eyes and leans back into his desk chair. “But why are you reading it?”
“You’re going to laugh at me if I tell you,” he replies with a sigh. “That or you’re going to call me stupid.”
The man in front of him chuckles and takes a seat on Seokjin’s large bed, wrinkling the duvet covers beneath him. “I would never do any of that,” he says honestly. “But I already know you want to follow your old man’s footsteps—is it that? You just wanted to read it?”
“No,” Seokjin trails off. His father makes a face that almost pleads him to give him a real, honest reason, and he relents with a huff. “Okay...I was researching a way to find Taehyung a cure.”
His father gives him an exasperated yet tranquil expression as if he expected these words to come out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Right,” he whispers slowly. “Well, you know, Taehyung—“
" Don’t say it. I know I can do it, alright? I just need time to research and...and…” The words start to end at the tip of his tongue as his confidence burns to ashes at the hands of his father’s gaze.
“How would it work?” His father says softly, almost as if he’s testing the waters. “Where are you at in your research right now?”
“I’m...looking at transplants.” He watches as his father cringes slightly, and while he expected this reaction, it still stings him anyway.
“Heart transplants won’t help him,” he replies simply, but Seokjin already knows. “There’s too much of a risk for a relapse. His body might reject the new heart, completely killing him, or it will treat the new heart as the old one and ruin it as it did to the original. Not to mention that heart donors are already so sparse.”
Seokjin licks his lips worriedly. “But—“
“I tried too, son,” his father says helplessly. “For years. And I really tried. Taehyung was one of my first patients and no one and in the world wanted him to get better more than me. I was powerless and everything I did was unsuccessful.”
Seokjin looks down dejectedly, thinking about how history repeats itself all of the time, what makes this time different? His father, one of the best doctors in Korean history couldn’t even cure him, so how could he, a nineteen-year-old scrawny student that has his father’s fame breathing down his neck every second of the day, cure Taehyung? The only thing he has given him is loyalty and everlasting friendship in the form of unbreakable solidarity built between the walls of a dismal hospital room. And maybe that really is the only thing he can offer.
“But I don’t think you’ll be unsuccessful, son,” his father says, breaking his inner turmoil, and Seokjin’s head springs up to meet his father’s eyes. The man smiles widely, pride seeping behind his amber eyes. “I think you can do it. Just tell me everything you need, I’ll take care of it. You just take care of Taehyung.”
Seokjin’s not one for tears—he doesn’t think he’s cried since elementary school—but at that moment, that vulnerable, unwavering moment, tears start welling at the edges of his eyes. His father looks at him proudly and the faith his father has in him is apparent in his expression. Nothing in the world means more to him than his father’s approval at this moment. “Do you think I can do it?” he asks.
“Yes,” his father says with utmost sincerity, a smile on his face. “Now, come to dinner. Your mother will get mad if it gets cold.”
Seokjin can’t speak when he embraces his father, regressing to his childish mannerisms under his father’s prideful gaze. He knows then, that even if he didn’t know Taehyung or didn’t have the money to support himself in any way, his father would still be there by his side, supporting him with a pat on his back. His father never voices his emotions much, but every word he says when he occasionally does permeates themselves in the back of Seokjin’s mind.
With his father’s support, Seokjin finds himself unstoppable. A rush of excitement runs through his veins as he realizes what gates have opened for him.
His father slings his arm over his son’s shoulder and down the stairs they go, the feeling of solidarity forming between them.
Seven years slip between Seokjin’s fingertips since that day. A senior in college, Seokjin is now almost twenty-seven in the next month and applying for the doctorate program at his university while researching everything he can about Taehyung’s heart condition on the side. Taehyung’s condition hasn’t been getting better, but it thankfully hasn’t been getting worse either. Between classes and research, Seokjin has been working tirelessly without any leads, but it hasn’t stopped him even once.
In fact, Seokjin, who is supposed to be on his way to the hospital to research some more, now stands confused and blindfolded with the sun beating down on his forehead. He hears the engine of the car they drove in rev to an end. The cicadas around him stay the only thing he can hear, and he furrows his eyebrows.
“Where are we?” he asks the air, unsure if his father and mother are anywhere near him. There’s no response, but he does feel fingers graze the back of his head, fingers dipping between his jet black hair to undo the knot formed by one of his father’s ties. To the ground drops the tie and he opens his eyes to is a tall, modern house in front of him.
He turns his head to where he sees his mother standing. “What is this?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Yours,” his mother replies, grinning.
His eyes widen to the size of saucers, his jaw dropping. “What?” he asks, incredulous. “Mine? ”
The house in front of him was adorned with white walls and tall glass windows that gave a view of the suburban streets in front of them, displaying a view of the busy yet calm nature of the typical Korean life of those living in his neighborhood. The roof was slanted and black, the touch of modernity apparent in its stature. The front double doors are made of an expensive black oak wood that accents the house and compliments the darkness of the roof. His father hands him the house keys, and Seokjin tentatively opens the door.
A step inside reveals a subtly modern living room and kitchen, and he can already tell that he loves it. It’s more conservative than the mansion that he grew up in, but it fits his tastes even more than the lavish life that he lived in. He was never one for showing off his riches and was always humble in every way possible.
“This is not mine,” he whispers to himself, incredulous. “Why are you giving this to me?”
“Well, how else are you going to work in your private lab?” his father answers, already walking towards the back of the house.
Seokjin, confused, walks through the doors leading to the garden and sees a small warehouse in the middle of it. He follows his father through the flowers and watches curiously as his father bounds near the warehouse, gesturing for Seokjin to open the door himself.
When he opens the door, Seokjin is met with a basement-like coldness with the gentle whirring of machinery all around him. Inside the warehouse stands five people in white coats surrounding three countertops, all smiling back at him. On the countertops are microscopes, necessary equipment for cell analysis, chemistry analyzers, pipettes, and anything that Seokjin could possibly need to research independently.
He throws his arms around his parents for an embrace, grateful that they’re supporting his efforts in finding Taehyung a cure even after all of these years. “Thank you so much!” he exclaims, jumping up and down like a child on Christmas Day. “This is the best!”
Seokjin introduces himself to the scientists excitedly, and they return the same energy. They all come from different backgrounds and ages, but there’s an air of solidarity between them that makes the area pleasant.
Excited to start, he chases his parents out and gets to work, taking the research books and materials out to start sharing them with his team.
“Hyung!”
Seokjin, who has been staring at his work desktop computer for the past two hours, startles at the sound of Taehyung’s booming voice. They’re both sitting in the hospital office made for the nurses and doctors, staring blankly at each other. It makes Seokjin blush. “Hey,” he says shortly before he realizes he has all of his research plastered right on his computer screen. He alt-tabs his way out of the window very obviously before sheepishly smiling at him. “What’re you doing here, Tae?”
“I’ve been here for a good three minutes,” Taehyung mumbles. “What, you didn’t see me?”
Seokjin presses his lips into a line. “No…” is all he says because he doesn’t really know what to say.
The twenty-five-year-old stares at him suspiciously before shrugging it off. “Where have you been these days? I never see you. I think the last time I saw you, we were out camping with Yoongi and Jimin.”
“Oh, I’ve been…” he stares at the computer screen, “around.” He can’t tell Taehyung about the research. If he did, it would surely break him and give him false hope. If the cure takes too long to develop or it eventually fails, there is no saving Taehyung’s resolve then. Now, Seokjin has to just be content with knowing that there is a cure alone. When the time comes, he’ll surely tell Taehyung all about it because he’s confident it will work. But now, in this precarious stage, spilling his guts about the research would just create unnecessary pressure for not only him and his team but Taehyung as well. He can’t take any chances.
“Around, huh? What’re you looking at on the computer?” Taehyung asks, leaning over the armrest to touch the keyboard.
“Nothing, just Twitter!” he exclaims, smacking Taehyung’s hands away. If that’s the best excuse he could come up with, then he’s just pathetic. At least he didn’t shout something like porn! in the middle of the hospital. That would’ve killed him completely.
The younger looks at him strangely. “You have Twitter?”
“Yes…”
“Okay…? Well, I was thinking that we could—”
“Seokjin-ssi?” A woman with a lab coat walks up to them, brandishing a clipboard and a bunch of papers on her hands. He recognizes her as one of his team members, her name being Lee Yewon, and he stands straight to his feet to welcome her.
“Yewon-ssi! Hello!” he exclaims as he sends signals with his eyes not to mention anything in front of Taehyung. Taehyung, however, has been staring at them, especially Yewon, very intensely since the moment she walked in and has been studying her face curiously.
She gives Seokjin a slight nod before wordlessly handing over the clipboard. “We were stuck here and wanted to see if you had any input.”
Seokjin stares at the papers silently, reviewing all of the outcomes of their tests based on the solution he created. He finds a link between all the tests and immediately finds where the solution is lacking. “I know what to do,” he says with a nod, handing back the clipboard.
“Taehyung,” he says to the younger, who has been patiently waiting. “Tell the head nurse I’m off to do something, alright? I’ll be back in a bit.”
He watches quizically as Seokjin is already getting ready to leave. “Sure…” he replies quietly, watching as Yewon bows to him and walks away with Seokjin. He bites his lower lip and squints his eyes. “What was that about…” he whispers to himself.
Months pass and before Seokjin knows it, it’s December. His own birthday has passed, gone and celebrated. But now it’s Taehyung’s 26th birthday, the only important day of the year to Seokjin.
Taehyung’s birthday is precious. It’s the day where his one and only love was born, spreading his life and brightness to everyone around him. Why wouldn’t he celebrate this day?
At Seokjin’s age especially, birthdays are quiet days. For him, birthdays are as useless as nightlights in the darkness. People know he was born, he’s standing there in the flesh of course. He never understood the importance of celebrating. Birthdays are a reflection of the year, a personal "New Year" where resolutions can be made for himself. For the past few years, his resolution was to create the cure. And now, with the solution on its way to the lab, Seokjin finds himself at the peak of his life. Today’s celebration isn’t just for Taehyung, but for the cure!
He stands on the phone outside of the hallway, gazing out to the main hall now and then to see if Taehyung is going to arrive. A noise on the phone makes him startle, but he keeps his demeanor as he starts. “The test tubes arrived safely, right?” he asks, for they were sent this morning and no word has been sent yet.
“Yes, the solutions have arrived. We’ll try our best, but I think results will be out in about nine months,” the scientist on the other side of the phone answers swiftly.
“Nine months? That’s…well, that’s quite a while.”
The scientist on the line sighs, not like an I can’t do anything about it sigh but more like a tell me about it sigh. “Yeah, I know. We’ll do the best we can. Nine months really is the earliest.”
“Thank you,” Seokjin replies. “And good luck! You’ll need it. I know how it is.”
“Thanks, have a good night,” they reply before ending the call.
He hears footsteps nearing the corridor and he sees Taehyung turning into the hallway from the main one, making him jump and run for his hospital room. He readies himself with a party hat, a balloon that says you go birthday boy! , and a cake in his hand, candles lit and everything. Even the lights are dim to support the surprise aspect of it all. Seokjin waits patiently for Taehyung to open the door, and when he does, he screams the happy birthday song at the top of his lungs, laughing at how embarrassed Taehyung looks.
“Shut up!” Taehyung hisses as he closes the door quietly. “It’s midnight!”
“Oh, I know. Happy birth—!” Taehyung grabs part of the cake with his hands and shoves it into Seokjin’s mouth with a loud bark of a laugh.
Betrayed, Seokjin also takes part of the cake and flings it at his face with a determined expression. Taehyung ducks and it lands directly onto the door. Even though he wants to keep playing, he’s more civil than Seokjin. That and he actually wants to try the cake and he doesn’t want to take his chances with the pieces of cake that would be strung along the floor if they continued.
He blows out the flames on the candles swiftly, laughing at how dumb Seokjin looks with that hat and cake all over his face. Taehyung takes the time that Seokjin uses to cut the cake to look at the rest of the room. It’s actually decorated with blue and pink streamers and banners, all wishing him a happy birthday. He slaps the balloon down with a chuckle, asking Seokjin why he chose that balloon.
“It’s cute,” Seokjin says in defense.
As he watches Taehyung take a big bite of cake and struggle to put his birthday crown on, Seokjin really does think that this is the peak of his life. With the cure being processed and the fact that Taehyung feels great—his heart has been stable and his vitals look like they’re developing nicely. It seems like this is the best day to be alive, watching as Taehyung hums and dances at the delicious taste of the cake.
“I love you, Tae,” Seokjin suddenly blurts as Taehyung takes another bite.
“Aw, I love you, too,” he replies, smiling from ear to ear, giving him the smile that Seokjin fell in love with.
He stares a bit more, watching as Taehyung silently chews on his food and plays with the lid of the mason jar. Every movement of Taehyung’s is so ethereal and endearing that it makes Seokjin’s heart skip beats. With the sight of the moonlight kissing his pale skin and the soft light of the room sharpening his figures, Seokjin gulps down his worries to replace it with courage. ”Enough to marry me?” he inquires quietly. He fumbles with the small box in his pocket curiously, like he’s awaiting Taehyung’s response with baited breath.
Taehyung blinks for a moment, trying to process what he said in his brain. He sets down his fork on his plate to reach over for the knife, wanting another piece. “What, are you proposing?” he half-asks half-laughs, eyes not leaving the cake as he precisely cuts a piece out.
In the corner of his eye, he sees Seokjin drop to one knee and right onto the hospital floor. “Maybe I am,” he sings, and Taehyung’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. He watches as Seokjin pulls a purple velvet ring box from his pocket and opens it up, revealing a small, beautiful ring with a pink diamond right on top inside of it.
Taehyung covers his mouth in shock and tears start to form at the edges of his eyes. “This is kinda sudden, but will you marry me, Kim Taehyung?”
He nods immediately, tears spilling from his eyes. “Yes, I will marry you, Kim Seokjin!” he screams, blushing furiously. “Ah, wait, I still have a knife in my hand let me put it down.”
Seokjin laughs loudly and stands to his feet, slipping the ring onto his ring finger after he sets the knife down. Taehyung examines it for a few moments, giggling as Seokjin runs his hands through his hair. Seokjin takes a seat next to him and they kiss chastely, leaving Taehyung wishing that he could live like this forever.
When he opens his eyes, Taehyung’s gaze is met with love and adoration from the other. His heart throbs, head falling against Seokjin’s chest at the thought of potentially leaving him behind. The cake stands there lonely as Taehyung’s too full to eat anymore, especially after that whole ordeal. “Jinnie,” Taehyung starts, “when I’m gone, do you promise that you’ll let me go?”
Seokjin shakes his head immediately. “Hell no.”
“What? You have to. I’m going to make you.”
“I don’t want to.” He looks down at Taehyung firmly. “I told you that you’re the only one for me and I meant it.”
The blonde chuckles, defeated. “Whatever floats your boat, loser,” he replies.
“Hey, you’re going to marry this loser.”
Taehyung goes silent then, thinking about his response. “Speaking of that,” he starts, “I don’t want to officially marry you until I get better, okay?”
“...What?”
“What I’m thinking is…” he sits up straight to speak to Seokjin directly. Seokjin looks at him and studies his expressions entirely like he really wants to understand Taehyung’s feelings to the fullest. Taehyung takes a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want to get married now so I can look forward to survival instead. If I get married now, I’m afraid I’m going to give up on getting better because I already fulfilled my life’s wish.”
“I…” Seokjin looks to the floor.
“No, listen, why would I spend my days thinking about when I die, when I can think about the day I marry you instead? It’ll keep me going, like motivation.” He takes Seokjin’s hand. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
Seokjin nods. “No, I get it,” he replies. Taehyung looks relieved. “I want that, too, then. Whatever you want, I want. Hell, if you wanted to get married on a volcano, I’d say yes.”
“Oh, great!” Taehyung exclaims, but his expression turns quizical. “I think we’d die on a volcano, though. I wouldn’t say that.”
“No, I mean…” Seokjin starts to explain, but words leave his tongue as Taehyung laughs, a melodic sound that resonates off the hospital walls; he moves fluidly with each giggle.
The sound of Taehyung’s laugh is enough to make Seokjin either drag a priest inside and marry them right now or kiss Taehyung senseless, but he stops himself.
For Taehyung’s sake, as always.
After the painfully and agonizingly long nine months of waiting, Seokjin stands in the hospital laboratory, listening intensely to the scientist in front of him as he speaks. But each word takes an agonizing toll on Seokjin’s resolve: words such as unsure, precarious , and everything on that line makes Seokjin shake to the core. The man in front of him, Dr. Junhui, lists out everything they did to test the medicine Seokjin developed over the last three years, gesturing to the computer models and heart cells grown from the human stem cells in the laboratory Petri dishes.
The results show that the medicine Seokjin created has almost a sixty percent survival rate and uses the computer in front of him to display the results in front of Seokjin’s eyes. The videos on the screen feature the living stem cells provided from the hospital reacting differently to the solution, and while Seokjin expected variety, he didn’t expect such a clear distinction between life and death as such. Dr. Junhui pipettes the solution that Seokjin created into two new Petri dishes of living human cells from the heart stem cells, or progenitor cells, to exemplify it in person.
The cardiomyocytes react in two different ways: the first set of stem cells stop their movement entirely, notably dying off, and the second set thrives with the solution embedded into it, moving from side to side at such rapid pace that it almost makes Seokjin dizzy.
“I see,” Seokjin says finally, his breath shaking. The fists he had created inside of his white coat pockets are digging deeper and deeper into his flesh as he’s unable to properly react to this news without being overwhelmed. Standing in front of the Petri dishes alone is making him feel faint, his mind running as fast as the cells in the petri dish.
“So if the patient gets the medicine directly implanted into the heart as you planned,” Junhui starts, setting the pipette back into its proper place after disposing of the tip, “the procedure will either be incredibly successful or the cardiomyocytes on his heart will die.”
Seokjin bites his lips into a straight line in disbelief. “It really is a fifty-fifty chance of survival, isn’t it?” he mumbles, eyes on the Petri dishes like staring at it would change the results in favor of Taehyung’s life. “And there’s nothing to increase the odds?”
The scientist gives him a reluctant shake of the head. “Even if the odds were increased, you know this is already an extremely risky procedure as it is.” Seokjin shifts his gaze to the scientist, his expression dismal. “The patient’s recovery solely depends on whether or not this solution will be accepted inside the body or if the body will be too overwhelmed to stabilize in time.”
Seokjin knows this very well. He had seen this in his research before. Looking back, he was quite foolish to think that he would make any difference at all. He’s gotten as far as to create the medicine, but what good does this medicine do if it has lethal consequences in the end?
Betrayal is not the word to explain his bruised emotions, but the disappointment burning inside of him is fatal and unforgiving.
Or maybe it is betrayal. Seokjin was never forced to find a cure nor was he demanded by Taehyung to create one, but he feels deceived and almost robbed. He spent years devoting himself to something that may just kill the one thing in his life that means the most to him, and it may be because of him that Taehyung’s life errs closer to an end.
But above all, Seokjin feels guilt. He did not verbally promise Taehyung a cure, but he pledged, vowed, since the beginning of his life to find this cure only for it to be for naught. It may work, but it is fatal and dangerous. Seokjin has never wished and would never wish danger onto Taehyung for as long as he lived, but looking at it now, there is no turning back. He owed something to Taehyung and it is only right to fulfill it, whether or not it will truly help him.
So, as Seokjin mulls over it in front of Taehyung’s hospital room, he realizes one thing: he’s made the cure, satisfied his promise, and now it is up to Taehyung’s jurisdiction to take it or not.
Oh god , he thinks, palms placed helplessly against the white wood. This is it. Seokjin has to tell him about everything from the beginning and the whole truth of it all. He knows that this is the only right thing to do, but it pains him nonetheless.
“Taehyung,” Seokjin greets as he opens the door, trying his best to keep up his bright-eyed disposition before dropping this whole truth bomb on him.
The blonde is sitting on one of the chairs near the windowsill, holding a book in his lap as he looks out the window. The sight of Seokjin excites him, tearing him from his book as he stands to his feet quickly. “Hyung!” he exclaims, sauntering over to take a seat on the bed. He pats the part of the bed in front of him, inviting Seokjin to sit. “I was just thinking of calling you! Did you eat yet? I was thinking we could eat together.“
“Oh, no I didn’t eat yet,” he mumbles, taking a seat at the foot of the bed, facing Taehyung head-on. Taehyung starts browsing through his phone, thinking about what to get delivered before a hand on his thigh stops him.
“Can we talk for a sec?” Seokjin asks. His fiance gives a nod, unsure as to why the atmosphere has become so serious. “Alright, I’ll just get to the case. Over the past four or so years, I developed a cure for you—”
“What! That’s great!” Taehyung exclaims, jumping onto Seokjin with such haste that it makes him dizzy.
Seokjin grabs him and settles him down back onto the bed. “Hey, relax! Your heart!”
Taehyung is smiling from ear to ear, excited beyond belief! “Who cares now!? You created a cure! What the! And you kept this a secret —“
The latter huffs out a sigh. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it didn’t work.”
“So what I’m hearing is that it works. Ha! That’s all I need to hear!” He grabs Seokjin’s white coat vivaciously, pulling him back and forth with such rigor that it makes him even dizzier.
“Listen, Tae, we tested it, and if you take go through with the surgery, your chances of survival are fifty-fifty,” he replies, serious. “The cells on your heart will either thrive or die. If they thrive, that means it will generate more work to your heart at a steady pace, making it used to movement and stress over time. If they die, then…” he trails off, not wanting to say it.
Taehyung still looks elated, his smile apparent on his face. “I don’t need to think about it. If you’ve created it, it will work.” Seokjin looks at him incredulously, like he’s not taking this as seriously as he should. “And on the off chance that I die, I know that I lived my best memories already and there isn’t anything in the world that I would exchange for it.”
“Taehyung!” Seokjin exclaims as he takes his upper arms in his hands, startling him. “Think about it seriously. Do you really want to do this? It might kill you.”
As Taehyung thinks about it more, uncertainty starts to settle in his expression. “I know it will kill me, but…” he stops to look right into Seokjin’s eyes. “I feel like I need to do this. For us.”
“No, Taehyung, you don’t owe me anything—“
“But I’m going to die eventually,” he whispers, and Seokjin stops in his tracks. “So why don’t I try it now when I feel the best I have ever felt in years? At least then you know I won’t die in pain.”
He’s right. Taehyung has spent years with chest pain and years fainting from low blood pressure. If this will change something, there’s no reason not to try.
But there is a huge, blaring reason: it means life or death. He knows Taehyung isn’t that scared of death anymore, but it’s still scary for Seokjin at least.
“I’m not afraid, Jinnie,” Taehyung mumbles before pressing a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek. “I’m going to go through with it if it means we can escape these white walls together.”
A silence falls between them, mostly because Seokjin is thinking about all the possible ways this could turn out. “If this is what you really want,” Seokjin replies quietly, breaking the silence.
“I do,” he says, taking the mason jar from the desk next to the bed into his lap. He fiddles with the lid of the jar like a child. “But I do have one condition.”
Seokjin looks up at him. “What’s that?”
“You can’t be in the room when the procedure happens.”
“Tae—“
An sad stare from Taehyung pierces him. “I don’t want your last memories of me being on the operation table, alright?”
“Alright,” he replies, “Okay, I won’t be the one to administer the procedure.”
Taehyung smiles and smoothes out his lover’s hair. “Thank you,” he whispers, tears at the edge of his eyes. “I’m so proud of you. You must have been harboring a lot of burdens because of me.”
“No, I did it for you,” Seokjin croaks as his throat tightens. “Everything I did was for you.”
Taehyung thanks him again with a kiss on the lips. “You are my number one,” he whispers against his cheek.
“You’re my number one, too.” Seokjin breathes in the smell of his shampoo and really thinks. He’s going to miss this, holding Taehyung and crying their eyes out at every single thing. If he lives or dies, he will always miss these moments of vulnerability and honesty because it’s truly them and no one else.
Taehyung pulls away to wipe some tears. “Actually, hyung, can you step out for a moment? I just…I want to think,” he asks, one hand clutching the mason jar. “Please?”
“Sure,” Seokjin says, leaving a kiss on his hair. “I’m going to schedule the procedure for around next month. To be honest, the sooner it’s done the better.”
“Okay…,” Taehyung whispers, and smiles and Seokjin walks away and out of the room.
Alone again, Taehyung takes the time to sob into his pillows, the thought of leaving Seokjin behind in the world too much to bear. The doctors were right when they said his heart was weak. It’s incredibly weak to Seokjin and so full of love for him that it physically and emotionally pains him.
He’s lulled to sleep by this pain, clutching at the mason jar with all of his might.
“Hey, Tae!”
Taehyung looks away from the windowsill to see Jimin and Yoongi standing at the door of his hospital room with a big sushi platter and a new stuffed elephant. Jimin, who has recently dyed his hair to raven black, saunters over with a big smile. Yoongi trails behind him and places new flowers on the desk to his side.
“Jimin, Yoongi!” he exclaims brightly. “I didn’t know you would come today.”
Jimin chuckles and sits at the foot of the bed. “Surprise!” he says as he opens up the big plastic platter. “Now come eat some sushi, we have a lot to talk about.”
“But,” Yoongi starts, “we do have to leave a bit early. My mother wants to meet us again before we go help prepare for my sister’s new baby.”
The black-haired boy grabs some chopsticks with a sigh and splits them apart angrily. “And the reason why we have to meet your mother before it? I don’t know! No one knows!” he bitterly spits as he shoves some sushi into his mouth. “She wastes my time most of the time for something that could be asked over the phone! And all she ever talks about is my hair! Why does she care so much? It’s not her hair!“
Jimin goes on and on about his mother-in-law. It’s not that he hates her much, it’s the fact that she isn’t considerate of his schedule at all that makes Jimin angry. Yoongi doesn’t care what he says that much. In fact, he adds on, which only blows more flames into Jimin’s fire.
“And now I have less time to spend with my bestie. Why? Because I bet she wants to ask if I got the towels and duffel bags ready for Yoonae’s baby.”
At this point, Jimin has already eaten half of the sushi platter just to refuel his energy to complain some more. Taehyung finds Jimin’s reactions quite funny and even teases him for it sometimes.
He doesn’t know where he would be if he didn’t meet Jimin and Yoongi. They’re so precious to him that losing them would probably break him to pieces. Their relationship started out strange, as they were just strangers who met in a camping park, but they’ve developed so much love and trust in each other that they are all equally important to each other, even Seokjin.
About an hour later, Yoongi pops a piece of sushi in his mouth before checking the time and standing to his feet. “Fuck, babe. We’re gonna be late if we don’t go now.”
“Ah, shit we have to run then. If she gets angry I won’t hear the end of it.” He grabs his jacket and tosses it on. “Bye, Tae! I’ll see in two weeks again to tell you all about it. Texting is no fun sometimes, I gotta tell you in person.”
Taehyung sends them away with a nod and a promise to hear everything when the time comes.
Seokjin, who watches them leave, slips in and stares at Taehyung, who starts eating the rest of the sushi alone. “I guess you didn’t tell them,” Seokjin begins, sitting down next to him in the seats. “About the surgery.”
“No, I didn’t tell them.” He says, setting down his chopsticks. “And you can’t either.”
Seokjin watches quietly as Taehyung shifts to face the window, a hand reaching for the book he wants to finish before it’s all over. “Why?”
Taehyung flips to the page he was on with a swift turn. “It’s the same reason I said to you. I don’t want their last memories of me to be sad.”
Seokjin smiles and leans over to kiss his cheek. “You’re really brave, Tae.”
Silence falls between them, the gears in Taehyung’s head turning at the sound of those words. “Really?” Taehyung responds quite blandly, not completely believing him.
Because he knows this isn’t bravery. To him, it’s more like cowardice.
Taehyung knows fear. He’s lived it, learned it, and suffers with it at every waking hour.
Weak since a very young age, Taehyung knows that he is as shatterable as glass and that any breath he takes at every second of the day could very much be his last.
When he was sentient enough to realize this at the ripe age of twelve, it all started to make sense. The program on the small television in front of him played would always play high school dramas from noon to around five in the afternoon, the peak time for like-minded children to be watching the television. From his eyes, none of it made sense. From the lockers in the back of the classroom painted colors ranging from yellow to brown to the school cafeteria with children laughing and giggling, everything was foreign to him.
But it wasn’t the lockers or the cafeteria the struck him with confusion—it was the children.
The children on the television were all so lively with the energy to jump, run, and talk endlessly. Even tripping and falling wouldn’t faze them in the slightest. The children in the hospital, the only type of children that Taehyung was ever exposed to, were frail and had barely enough energy to speak to anyone but their nurse. Taehyung himself was also weak with thin legs and arms; the most he could do at that age was walk and drink water.
It’s then that he realized that he was different. He was weak, breakable, and fragile and that breathing alone was a gift that he is blessed with every second of the day.
Even the darkness that everyone experiences when they close their eyes at the end of the day is a privilege to him. To others, the darkness whispers close your eyes, it’s time to rest. To him, the darkness taunts: you lived today, but will you see the sun tomorrow?
And that same sun, that irreplaceable brightness from the colorful warmth reflecting on his eyes, is always a fever dream. He opens his eyes every morning and has to think: Is it heaven or is it the sunny day outside?
Or, in simpler terms, am I dead or alive?
Seokjin told him when they were younger that he wasn’t afraid of the dark, and he has no reason to be. Seokjin will live a great life, get his doctorate, and treat a whole building full of patients and at the end of the day, darkness means closing his eyes to rest.
But Taehyung can’t rest knowing that his eyes might shut for good each night. Maybe the darkness gives Seokjin the strength to go on to the next day, replenishes him from the labor of working throughout the day. But when he closes his eyes, Taehyung knows that the darkness isn’t as forgiving. It’s cold, dark, and the loneliness that infects his veins every day becomes even more apparent.
Of course, the darkness is dark and in darkness is death.
But Taehyung’s thought so much about death to not be numb to it. Ironic, isn’t it? Taehyung believes that death awaits when he closes his eyes every night, but he doesn’t shake or tremble at the thought of it eventually happening.
They say that the second before you die, your memories replay like a movie, showing the best and worst moments of your life like a success story of romance and triumph.
Behind his eyes, memories don’t replay. His core memories are born from white hospital walls and the smiling faces of the nurses who have been with him since his birth. So when Taehyung dies, whether it be tonight, tomorrow, or a few months or years from now, what will he see?
He likes to believe that he will see his parents, the kind nurses and doctors, and the white ceiling that he’s staring so intently at right now. Maybe they’ll all surround him in his final moments, wish him goodbye, and send him off. He knows that his mother will kneel by his side and place a kiss on his temple, telling him that he was the best gift she could have ever received.
And Taehyung knows she’s telling the truth. He was her only child, and her stubborn disposition prevented her from conceiving another child after him. She desired from the bottom of her heart to make Taehyung his father’s successor, believing that he would get better since the day he was born. She never said this aloud, but twenty-six-year-old Taehyung knows.
Then it will go dark, and internally he will thank his mother for all of her efforts.
Or he might see the mason jar that he’s holding so tightly to his chest right now. Only two fireflies are left in the mason jar from the last time Seokjin caught new ones, blinking and buzzing like their life depends on it. He hears the hums and sees the flickers from the corner of his eyes like the fireflies are keeping his sanity intact and reminding him that he’s still alive.
The mason jar doesn’t hold just fireflies, but memories. Memories of that day at the campsite and how brightly Jimin smiled when he roasted marshmallows next to the fire, his loving boyfriend, Yoongi, next to him the whole time. They were meant together and stood shining like the two fireflies in his mason jar.
Maybe they too will visit him in his memories right before he dies. Maybe they’ll embrace him and thank him for everything he’s done. Those two are the first real friends he has ever created, and being the good friends they are, they will appear and wish him farewell.
But most importantly, he knows he will see Seokjin.
Bright, tall, smart, and handsome Seokjin with the power to move anything and do anything the world could offer. When he was younger, he envied Seokjin to the point where the jealousy became disdain and contempt. Even hearing Seokjin’s name left a bitter taste on his tongue. He spent endless nights crying about not being like Seokjin, who had a capable heart to support him throughout his lifetime.
But then he began to understand: Seokjin and himself met for a reason, and maybe that reason was to fall in love and experience loss and love like everyone is meant to. Maybe their story was different from the others in the world; they’re a special case in which this destiny was created just for them. And for that Taehyung is strangely grateful for. It makes his legacy memorable and appreciated in some way.
The dramas on television always romanticize this kind of relationship: a sickly woman paired with a loving, capable man with her health being the only thing standing in between them. But it’s not the same for Taehyung. He believes his sickness to be less of a weakness but an obstacle. An obstacle that will be undoubtedly won over by the power of determination and love—that’s how Taehyung has romanticized his life.
Cliche as it is, that’s how he has survived thus far. If he believes his health to be something temporary then it will be, and then he will break the barriers of the white hospital doors with a smile. Then Seokjin will welcome him with open arms and he will live happily ever after.
An idea created by himself at twelve years old proves to be quite hopeless more than a decade later, but it doesn’t stop him.
If he was helpless, would he be here now, staring at the ceiling and thinking right before the procedure starts? He knows he would be wallowing in his hospital room instead, crying uselessly about things he can’t change. But maybe he can change his life now, for worse or for better.
But is he prepared?
No, not at all.
He shuts his eyes, the ceiling lights leaving bright circles behind his eyelids for him to stare at with his irises. There’s shuffling near the front of the room and footsteps are heard inching closer to him, each step more hesitant than the last.
“Taehyung…” The voice speaks. Taehyung opens his eyes to see Seokjin, whose tears are welling at the edges of his eyes. He takes a seat next to him at the edge of the bed slowly like he can’t believe the reality he’s facing. “We’re about to start in a few minutes, okay? I know you don’t want me in the room while it happens, I just…I just wanted to see you before…everything…”
The lithe man in front of him tosses the mason jar aside and grasps at Seokjin’s white coat with the same desperation as a lost child, helpless and scared. His bony hands are trembling with such rigor that it causes Seokjin to shake slightly with him. At that moment he feels all of the fear that Taehyung is experiencing and it scares him even more.
Taehyung didn’t realize it before, but now, as he stares right into Seokjin’s wavering irises, he is scared not of death but of loss. He can’t lose any part of them: their kisses, their embraces, their memories. He can’t lose the calming head pats that Seokjin would place upon his head at night to calm him down from his nightmares. He can’t lose the bouquets of flowers that Seokjin would give him at the beginning of each month with a handwritten love letter.
He can’t lose Seokjin. Ever.
“I talked a lot of shit yesterday, Jinnie,” Taehyung starts, and Seokjin watches through his own teary eyes as the other’s eyes start to water, “I talked shit about not caring and not being afraid. But I am. I’m fucking terrified and I don’t know if this will be the last time I see you. I told you I’m not scared of dying, right? Like, years ago. And then I said it last night, but even then I lied to you—I lied straight through my teeth so you would feel better and know that I at least died without any fears. But, Jinnie, I’m so scared right now that—”
Suddenly, Seokjin leans forward and kisses him straight on the mouth, interrupting his words entirely with his lips. The kiss is not at all perfect or anything dramatic as those movie stars make it seem, but one doused in such sincerity and vulnerability that ignites the relaxation that Taehyung starts to feel. With their lips interlocked, Seokjin promises all the integrity and love that he has to offer. They’ve kissed before, but there’s desperation and pain in this one. This might be the last kiss they ever share, and Seokjin finds it painstakingly fleeting.
The tears from both of their eyes start falling down and Taehyung relaxes further in his grasp, pulling him closer like he needs him in his hands to feel alive. The salt from the tears is on his tongue, but he doesn’t stop for even a moment.
Taehyung is in front of him now and that’s all that matters.
When he pulls away, Taehyung is breathless but sobbing, every sound made resonating as a whimper. “I know,” Seokjin replies, knocking their heads together as if he would suffocate without Taehyung as close as possible. “I know you’re scared. I am too.”
He knows that’s all he can say. There’s no way to comfort him other than telling him everything will be fine, but even then Seokjin doesn’t know if it will truly be fine. It’s a fifty-fifty chance to freedom and they are pushing so close to the edge that it’s dangerous to both of their lives, not just Taehyung’s.
Seokjin takes Taehyung’s hands in his. “You have every right to stop the procedure now,” he mentions.
Taehyung frantically squeezes his hands. “No! No, I don’t want to,” he exclaims, surprising Seokjin. His appearance seems more fearful than it did before as if not going through with the procedure scares him more than actually doing it. “I want to go through with this. I’m afraid, I know, but if doing this means that I could possibly, just maybe get better, I’ll do it.”
“But what if you don’t?” Seokjin croaks, a tear falling from his eyes. “What if this doesn’t help you at all and you don’t get better?”
“If I don’t, know that I had all of the fun that I could,” he whispers against Seokjin’s lips, wiping away his tears. “I did everything I wanted, you know? And that’s all thanks to you. I know I didn’t get that dog I wanted or do skydiving like I said I would, but I did what I could. I camped and made some great friends, Jinnie. And that was only possible because you helped me. I loved and I lived because of you.”
Seokjin stays silent, his tears falling quietly onto their joined hands. Taehyung giggles helplessly, hoping that it would cheer him up. “You promised you would cure me,” he starts, and Seokjin’s head pops up. “I remember. You did your best to cure my disease, and that’s all I asked for. But you also promised I would get better. And I did. You made me better. I know I’m an asshole that cries all the time, but you made me realize how much I really do want to live. Without you, I would probably be wallowing in my sadness in, like, the cafeteria or something.”
The joke makes Seokjin laugh. “What is this so suddenly, our vows?” he asks, running a hand through Taehyung’s hair.
Taehyung chuckles. “You know what? Let’s do it. Fuck a wedding or priests, I want to tell you now.” He shuffles slightly so that he fully faces Seokjin and he takes his head in his hands. Tears start welling at the edges of both of their eyes as Taehyung starts. “I know I said to wait until I survive this whole thing to fully get married and say our vows. And I know I said I wouldn’t do this just to stay optimistic and tell you when I’m really better, but I’m scared of losing you. I’m really a fucking scared grown man who loves you.”
Taehyung leaves a kiss on Seokjin’s lips, chaste and quick. “Every second I spent with you was true bliss. You were my gift, someone that grounded me even when I acted like a wild boar,” Seokjin laughs despite the tears that are running down his face relentlessly. “And I can’t think of any way to thank you enough. I’m so happy that you’re willing to spend the rest of your life with me, and I love you for that. Truly, Kim Seokjin, thank you.”
Seokjin smiles and wipes away Taehyung’s tears from his red face. “Oh, Kim Taehyung. My little enigma,” Taehyung giggles at that and punches Seokjin slightly. “I cannot wait to see you tomorrow morning with your bright face and your loving smile. As it is every day, you are the only thing that I ever look forward to when I open my eyes. You are the brightness to my darkness. You might say this to me countless times, but, really, you are the reason I’m alive. My life has no purpose without you. And same goes for me, where would I be now? Probably working at Nene Chicken or something.”
Taehyung makes an incredulous expression because the statement is so strange and untrue that it makes his face contort. “No, really!” he says with a chuckle. “Taehyung, thank you for being with me all these years. I know that you’re my one and only forever.”
“Okay, whatever, you big sap,” he says jokingly. “Now kiss me.”
His lover laughs loudly, all of the fear and uncertainty leaving his body as he realizes that Taehyung is the only thing he should focus on right now. “I may kiss the groom,” Seokjin states like he’s allowing himself to kiss his…husband. It’s not official in the law or even in the papers at that, but to them it’s real. Whether Taehyung survives or leaves him, every moment to them is real.
He leans over and kisses Taehyung right on the lips, taking in his scent and every breath he takes like they’re precious. And to Seokjin they are; every movement Taehyung makes elicits sparks in his soul and it keeps him watching and longing for Taehyung endlessly. Taehyung really is an enigma. He’s a black hole that sucked Seokjin in years ago as if he was keeping him in a trance to infinitely love Taehyung to the fullest. But Seokjin knows that his love is willing and voluntary and that their love is real and pure.
“Wait a sec,” Seokjin says between the kisses Taehyung is leaving around his mouth and face. “We don’t even have official wedding rings.”
“We don’t need rings,” Taehyung replies, answering like it’s obvious. “All I need is you.”
“Ugh,” Seokjin replies with a playful roll of his eyes. Taehyung laughs and Seokjin feels glad that Taehyung feels better about everything. He doesn’t know what he would do if Taehyung’s final moments were filled with fear and lifelessness. This is how it should be, with Seokjin teasing him and kissing him like his life depended on it.
He stares into Taehyung’s eyes some more like they’re having a silent conversation, and really they are. Taehyung’s eyes are saying every synonym to the three words I love you and Seokjin’s are saying the same, but mixed with Thank you and You’re my forever.
A noise is heard from the front of the room, and there stands Seokjin’s father, the doctor who will be administering the procedure, who is knocking quietly on the glass operation room doors. He looks as if he just interrupted something important, guilt evident in his expression. “Seokjin, Taehyung, it’s time to start,” he murmurs, hinting at them to wrap it up.
They both stare at their joined hands silently before Taehyung lets go and replaces his hands with the small mason jar. The fireflies are still blinking brightly as if they’re the last spurts of hope that the two of them are holding onto. “Wha—Taehyung—“ Seokjin says, but he’s interrupted with a kiss.
“Take this,” Taehyung whispers, pulling away from him. “Catch a bunch of fireflies for me, alright? And keep them next to your bed.”
Seokjin wills himself not to cry again. These are truly their final moments. He needs to be strong. “I can’t—“
“I know you can. And I know I made you promise to let me go but,” he pats the mason jar in his hands. “This is important to me. I want it to be remembered and kept, alright?”
If this is Taehyung’s last wish, who is he to refuse? “Yes, Taehyung,” he replies. “I’ll keep it and fill it with billions of fireflies.”
Taehyung nods, laughing, and Seokjin stands to his feet, leaving a kiss on his forehead before he faces his father. “Hyung!” Taehyung exclaims at Seokjin’s back. He stops in his tracks to turn around and stare at his husband, who is smiling widely despite the tears running down his face. He places a hand over his heart as he speaks. “I owe this heart to you. This broken, weak heart was always yours. And even though it was useless to me, it beat for you. You have to remember that, alright?”
There are watery tears at the edges of his eyes again, but he keeps his head high as he nods. “I’ll remember. I’ll remember everything,” he whispers to himself, but Taehyung can hear it loud and clear. He’s always been able to do that. “I’ll put a pretty ring on your finger when I see you tomorrow morning, alright Kim Taehyung?”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
It’s quiet for a moment, the whirring of Taehyung’s EKG the only noise in the room.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“I love you most,” Seokjin replies before he’s chased out of the room, his expression giving in and his tears falling down his face in waterfalls as he hugs the mason jar to his chest.
“Right, I know. You just love punctuality. But there’s traffic, okay? I’ll be there soon.” Twenty-nine-year-old Seokjin hisses into the speaker of his phone. He’s currently slamming his car door shut in frustration because Jimin just had to get lunch together on the busiest street in Seoul. “Or what? What’re you gonna do about it? Oh, right, nothing! Bye.”
He shoves his phone and keys into his pocket and starts walking.
He sees the restaurant just a block away and he thinks god, this couldn’t be any farther. The topic for today is Yoongi’s plans to quit his corporate office job and pursue his real dream of becoming a professional music producer. This was never a surprise—Yoongi has the talent to take over the music industry, whether he’s the face of the music or not. He proposed to just talk in their house, but the restaurant, or cafe really, is supposedly so new and so chic that Jimin couldn’t help himself.
This is where Seokjin comes in, dragging his tired body to the cafe right after completing a huge operation back at the hospital. The cafe is built like a small corner shop with a large banner donning the front right under the cafe’s name: Universe Cafe. Cute.
On the banner is a small mason jar, donning a summer fruit drink in it and a small umbrella and strawberries on the sides. The jar is so pretty and actually quite appealing, but Seokjin feels suddenly uneasy at the sense of relief that suddenly strikes his chest. Maybe that’s just a side effect of deja vu because he’s definitely experiencing that right now. It’s weird. The place is so familiar that he feels like he’s seen it in a dream somewhere.
Or maybe he just saw the place when he went to the bakery across the street a couple of weeks ago.
“Cool, right?”
Seokjin jumps, frightened. He turns his head slightly to see a tall man with purple hair around his age standing to the side after putting up some more flower decorations by the door. His cheeks were accented with cute dimples, a pink apron wrapped tight around his thin waist. Embarrassed for being frightened by this handsome man, Seokjin covers his face with a facepalm. “My bad, I didn’t mean to scare you! I just caught you staring at the banner. It’s kind of a trend now.” The man gestures up to the banner. “Drinks in jars, that is.”
Seokjin glances back at the banner with a nod. “Right, um, that’s…cool. Are you the—?”
“Papa!”
The door chime sings as a small, familiar figure jumps out from behind the door and into Seokjin’s arms, giggling wildly. He takes the child into his arms with a laugh. “Hello there,” he greets his daughter with a kiss on the cheek. The girl smiles as she embraces his neck tightly.
“Chaeyoung-ah,” another voice follows with the door chime. “What did I tell you about running out?”
A lithe blonde man walks closer to them and Seokjin smiles widely. Taehyung, beautiful, stunning, breath-taking Taehyung, is standing right in front of him. It’s been about four years since their wedding, but every day feels like their wedding day when Taehyung looks this beautiful. Taehyung just breathing in air and smiling leaves Seokjin breathless and weak.
Chaeyoung whispers an apology into Seokjin’s dress shirt, burying herself in shame. Taehyung chuckles and rubs her back in reassurance.
“How was work?” Taehyung asks with a kiss on his cheek.
“It was fuc—” he looks at Chaeyoung and stops, “fun. Tiring. But fun.”
Taehyung laughs again. “Tell me about it,” he says, leading them all into the cafe where Jimin and Yoongi are quietly snapping photos of them.
“Sure, we have all the time in the world,” he replies, taking Taehyung’s hand in his, right where it belongs. “I’ll tell you all about it.”
“You have such a cute family, man,” the purple-haired man speaks up finally, putting the final touches on the door with a smile. “You all seem so happy and bright.”
Seokjin looks back at Taehyung, to Chaeyoung, and back to Taehyung again before answering. “Thank you,” he replies, smiling at Taehyung like that’s his only job. “I guess we really are.”
And he knows those words are true. For what he feels here is certainty.
There’s no darkness for Taehyung to face alone anymore. The amount of relief that Seokjin felt that morning after the procedure some years ago will never be beaten. He remembers in vivid detail the exact moment where he fell to the ground in relief and how his hands trembled as he put Taehyung’s ring on.
He knows the brightness was made for Taehyung to enjoy. Seokjin believes the sun was created for him and only him and that the darkness he faced was purely temporary, like a moment where he was challenged by the gods to go through the darkness alone.
But now, as he pulls Taehyung close to him, he knows all Taehyung has to embrace alone is the security and joy in his loving, welcoming arms.
