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Jimin’s breath faltered as he moved closer to the bathroom door, the hum of the running water a muffled melody in his ears. Behind that door, Jungkook stood under the hot stream of the shower, probably letting the exhaustion of his long workday wash off him. The sound of the water, steady and constant, should have been grounding, but to Jimin, it only heightened the anxiety twisting inside him. The notification that had pinged his phone not ten minutes ago had pulled him out of his thoughts: he was needed at the hospital, an emergency surgery due to a colleague’s sudden absence. A minor procedure, something Jimin could handle with precision and ease, but his hands trembled. Not from the surgery. From the weight of the words he was about to spill.
His heart had been relentless lately, hammering against his chest with a kind of insistence that could no longer be ignored. Why now? Jimin asked himself, his fingers tracing the faint grooves on the wooden door. Why this moment, of all moments? He was sure of one thing: if he didn’t say these words now, they would choke him alive.
Jungkook had begun to soften toward him recently, the icy demeanor that had once defined their relationship thawing bit by bit. Jimin was desperate to preserve that fragile warmth. But the burden he had carried for eight years—the unyielding, suffocating love that consumed his entire being—had grown too heavy to bear alone. It had reached the point where all he wanted to do was scream, to release the agony bottled up inside his chest, to tell Jungkook everything. He had no grand illusions about how Jungkook might react, though. They had been married for two years, yet the love Jimin harbored for Jungkook remained unreciprocated, a deep well of emotion he had been forbidden to express openly.
It wasn't a real marriage. That thought had gnawed at Jimin since the beginning. To Jungkook, it had always been an obligation, a consequence of their families' close relationship. For Jimin, however, it had been the culmination of eight years of silent pining, years of loving Jungkook from afar, of hoping and praying for a day when Jungkook might turn his gaze toward him with something more than indifference. But that day never came. The wedding had been a cruel reminder that while Jimin’s love ran deep, Jungkook’s heart had walls that Jimin could never breach.
Jimin’s trembling fingers reached up to knock softly on the bathroom door. His breath hitched, his throat dry, the moisture gathering in his eyes threatening to spill over. Don’t cry. Not yet. He took a shallow breath, then knocked again.
“…Jungkook?” His voice barely carried through the door, a fragile whisper.
The sound of the water stopped abruptly, and for a moment, the silence between them stretched out like a vast canyon. Then came Jungkook’s response, soft but clear through the barrier. “Yes?”
Jimin’s pulse quickened. Say it. His mind screamed, but his heart stalled. His lips parted, only to close again, his thoughts tangling. Finally, he managed to stammer, “I—I just got a call from the hospital. I have to cover a surgery for a colleague, so I’ll be leaving soon.”
There was a beat of quiet from the other side before Jungkook replied, his voice unreadable. “Oh… Okay.”
There was something in the way Jungkook said it—subtle, almost imperceptible, but it tugged at the edges of Jimin’s already frayed heart. Was that… disappointment? Sadness even? Did Jungkook wish for him to stay? The thought was fleeting, dismissed almost as quickly as it came. Jimin shook his head internally, chastising himself. Don’t be stupid. Of course Jungkook wasn’t disappointed. He never cared for Jimin’s presence in the first place.
“Um…” Jimin’s breath hitched again, the aching in his chest swelling. Say it now. Say it before you lose your nerve. His body trembled with the weight of his decision. “I wanted to… tell you something.”
There was a slight pause before Jungkook responded, his voice quieter, softer, patient even. “Of course. Go ahead.”
Jimin’s heart nearly stopped. That tone—it wasn’t cold, it wasn’t dismissive like before. For a second, Jimin wondered if maybe, just maybe, Jungkook was actually listening. If he was willing to listen to Jimin’s heart. His grip on the door tightened, and he sucked in a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed as he prepared to dive into the abyss.
“I…” His voice wavered. “I don’t know why I’m saying this now… but I can’t keep it in anymore. I need to get this off my chest, and I hope you’ll hear me out.”
The words tumbled out before he could stop them. He barely registered Jungkook’s soft hum of acknowledgment.
“My heart…” He let out a breath that trembled on the exhale. “It hurts. Every day, it aches because I… I can’t do the one thing it’s always wanted to do.”
The moment those words left his lips, it felt like a dam had burst. There was no going back now. The feelings he had suppressed for years, the love he had restrained for so long, poured out of him uncontrollably.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” Jimin’s voice cracked, his hand now pressed flat against the door as though reaching for something—someone—on the other side. “I’m so, so sorry for being such an inconvenience to you. For making you uncomfortable with my feelings. I promised you I wouldn’t… but I can’t help it. All I’ve ever wanted was to make you happy.”
Jimin’s throat closed up, the burning sensation in his chest growing unbearable. His mind raced back to the countless moments where he had held himself back, all for Jungkook’s sake, all because he had promised he would. But now? Now he couldn’t stop the flood of emotions surging forward.
“But I know that’s impossible,” Jimin whispered, his voice barely audible. “You can’t even stand to look at me.”
There. He said it. The truth that had haunted him for so long, the truth that had carved out a permanent hollow in his chest.
“I don’t blame you,” Jimin continued, his breath shaky. “I understand why. I wouldn’t be able to stand looking at myself either, if I were you.”
Tears blurred Jimin’s vision, but he forced himself to continue. Keep going. Don’t stop now.
“I love you, Jungkook.” The confession hung heavy in the air, and Jimin could feel his world collapsing around him, piece by painful piece. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for burdening you with these feelings that you didn’t ask for. I tried to keep them in, I tried so hard, but I can’t… I just can’t anymore.”
Jimin pressed his forehead against the door, his tears now flowing freely. His body shook with the effort of holding back sobs, but he needed to finish. He had to.
“If a divorce is what you want, I’ll give it to you,” he choked out. “Even though it’ll kill me, I’ll do it. I’ll explain everything to our parents, and I’ll take the blame if I have to. You won’t have to deal with this anymore. You won’t have to deal with me.”
Jimin’s heart shattered as he spoke those final words, and he could feel the numbness creeping in. His love for Jungkook, the love that had defined his existence for eight long years, had finally broken him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered one last time, his voice barely a breath. “I’m so, so sorry.”
With that, Jimin stepped back, his body trembling with the weight of his confession. He wiped furiously at his tears, though they kept falling, an endless stream of sorrow and regret. Without waiting for a response, without allowing himself the chance to look back, he turned toward the main door, his steps quick and desperate to flee.
But behind that bathroom door, Jungkook stood frozen, his heart splintering into a thousand pieces as he heard the soft, barely audible yet heartbreaking sobs from the other side. Time seemed to stop, his mind reeling as Jimin’s words sank in, each one a dagger to his chest. For a moment, all he could do was stand there, stunned into silence. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know Jimin’s heart was so fragile, so full of love that it hurt him.
It wasn’t until he heard the soft footsteps getting further away from the door that something snapped inside him. His body moved before his mind could catch up, heart racing, desperate to stop Jimin from leaving.
“Jimin—wait!”
“Jimin-ah....” Jungkook’s voice was louder now, filled with urgency, and it froze Jimin in his tracks. His hand hovered over the door handle, trembling. He felt a moment of weakness, as if his legs might give out from under him, but he stayed still, caught between the desperation to escape and the faint hope that maybe—just maybe—Jungkook had something more to say.
Jimin turned slightly, enough to see Jungkook emerging from the bathroom, his hair still dripping wet and his body wrapped in a towel. His eyes locked onto Jimin, wide and filled with something that made Jimin’s chest ache even more. Was it regret? Panic? Desperation?
“Why are you apologizing?” Jungkook asked, his voice hoarse, as if he had been holding something back for too long. “Why do you think I don’t care about you?”
Jimin stared at him in disbelief, words trapped in his throat. Was this a trick? A way to soften the blow before confirming his worst fear? He had imagined this moment so many times, but not once had Jungkook ever looked at him like this—with genuine concern, with… something else, something Jimin didn’t dare name.
“You don’t have to do this anymore,” Jimin whispered, his voice shaking. “I know you’ve never wanted to be here. You don’t have to pretend.”
Jungkook took a step closer, his brows furrowing, the air between them thick with tension. “Pretend? Jimin… I—” He paused, as if searching for the right words, his fists clenched by his sides. His face softened then, and he reached out, his hand tentative as it hovered near Jimin’s cheek. “You’ve never been a burden to me.”
Jimin flinched at the words, shaking his head, unable to believe them. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
Jungkook let out a long, shaky breath, his hand finally brushing against Jimin’s skin, and for a brief moment, Jimin leaned into the touch despite himself, despite the agony it caused him.
“I didn’t know,” Jungkook murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know how much you were hurting. I thought…” His voice trailed off as he bit his lip, his eyes full of guilt. “I thought keeping my distance was what you wanted. I thought… I was protecting you by not getting too close.”
Jimin’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing to process Jungkook’s words. “Protecting me?” His voice cracked. “How… how could you think that?”
Jungkook took another step closer, closing the space between them. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared. Scared of ruining things between us. Scared of hurting you even more. But I didn’t realize that by keeping my distance, I was already hurting you.”
Jimin’s knees buckled involuntarily, but before he could fall, Jungkook’s arms were around him, holding him close, steadying him. It felt surreal—Jungkook’s warmth, his touch, the way his heart thudded against Jimin’s chest.
“I’m sorry, Jimin,” Jungkook whispered, his voice breaking miserably. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Jimin’s tears flowed freely again, but this time, they were different—less from pain, and more from the overwhelming relief of hearing those words, the words he had waited so long for. He buried his face into Jungkook’s shoulder, letting the sobs rack his body as Jungkook held him tightly, as though afraid to let go.
“I don’t want a divorce,” Jungkook said softly, a prominent tremble in his voice, his lips brushing against the crown of Jimin’s head. “I don’t want to lose you. I never have.”
Jimin pulled back slightly, his tear-filled eyes searching Jungkook’s face for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. Only sincerity, only the raw emotion that he had thought was impossible for Jungkook to feel.
“I love you too, Jimin,” Jungkook confessed, his voice shaky but resolute. “I’ve loved you for a long time… I was just too much of a coward to say it.”
Jimin blinked through his tears, his heart stuttering in his chest. “You… you what?”
“I love you,” Jungkook repeated, his thumb gently wiping away the tears from Jimin’s cheeks. “I love you so much it hurts.”
Jimin blinked through his tears, stunned into silence. The words, the ones he had longed to hear for so many years, hung in the air like fragile glass. They were real, but he was terrified they might shatter if he reached for them.
“I love you so much it hurts,” Jungkook repeated, his voice raw and pleading, as if he was pouring every piece of his soul into the confession. “I was stupid… blind, even. I didn’t know how to handle it, how to handle us. But I don’t want to hide anymore.”
Jimin’s throat tightened as he gazed at Jungkook, who looked more vulnerable now than he had ever seen him. “You love me?” he whispered, his voice trembling. His mind struggled to reconcile the years of doubt, pain, and distance with this moment—this moment that felt like something out of a dream.
Jungkook nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ve always loved you, Jimin. I just… I didn’t know how to show it. I thought by staying away, by giving you space, I was doing the right thing. But I was wrong. So wrong.” He gently cupped Jimin’s face, his fingers brushing away the last remnants of tears. “I know I’ve hurt you. And I know saying sorry isn’t enough, but I want to try. I want to fix this. I want to be better for you.”
Jimin’s heart was pounding in his chest, his mind spinning with emotions too vast and too tangled to put into words. He had wanted to hear Jungkook say these things for so long, but now that he was, Jimin didn’t know how to respond. He had buried his hope so deep, walled it up so tightly, that he wasn’t sure if he could let it out again without breaking apart.
Jungkook, sensing Jimin’s hesitation, pulled him closer until their foreheads touched. “Please Jimin-ah,” he begged, his voice a feeble whisper, his breath warm against Jimin’s skin. “Please give me a chance to make this right. I don’t want to lose you. I can't live without you.”
Jimin closed his eyes, letting the weight of Jungkook’s words settle into the cracks of his heart. He could feel Jungkook’s heartbeat against his own, the steady rhythm grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. A part of him wanted to run, to protect himself from the potential of more pain. But another part—a larger part—was desperate to believe that this time, things could be different.
“I… I don’t know how to trust that,” Jimin admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve hurt me so much, Jungkook. I don’t know if I can… if I can go through that again.”
Jungkook’s grip on him tightened, not possessive, but steady, as if he were anchoring Jimin to him. “I know,” he whispered, massive guilt and shame lacing his words. “I know I’ve messed up, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can be better. But I’m not asking you to forgive me all at once. I’m begging you to let me try.”
Jimin’s eyes fluttered open, and he pulled back just enough to look into Jungkook’s eyes. They were so earnest, filled with the same hope and fear that mirrored his own. For the first time in what felt like forever, Jimin didn’t see the cold distance, the indifference that had haunted him for so long. Instead, he saw the boy he had fallen in love with—the boy who had once made him feel like the most important person in the world.
He took a shaky breath, his heart aching with both longing and uncertainty. “I don’t know how to move forward from here,” Jimin confessed, his voice soft but steady. “But… I want to try. I want to believe in us again.”
A look of relief washed over Jungkook’s face, and his lips trembled with the hint of a smile. “Thank you,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to Jimin’s once more. “Thank you so much, Jimin-ah. I swear, I won’t let you down again.”
Jimin closed his eyes again, his body sinking into the warmth of Jungkook’s embrace. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to feel the hope that had been buried beneath all the pain, to believe that maybe—just maybe—there was still a future for them.
They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of their past hanging between them like a fading storm. The air was thick with unspoken promises, with the tentative start of something fragile and new. Jimin’s heart still ached, but it was different now—less of a sharp, cutting pain, and more of a dull throb, as if healing had already begun.
Finally, Jungkook pulled back, his hands sliding down to gently take hold of Jimin’s. “I don’t want to rush you,” he said softly. “We can take this slow. One step at a time, okay?”
Jimin nodded, his fingers tightening around Jungkook’s. “Okay,” he whispered.
As the silence settled over them, a strange peace filled the room. It wasn’t the explosive, dramatic resolution Jimin had once imagined. It was quieter, softer—a gradual easing of tension, a slow, tentative rebuilding of trust. And that, Jimin realized, was exactly what they needed.
Jungkook led him to the bed, sitting down beside him. The closeness felt natural, comfortable, like slipping into something familiar yet different. They didn’t say anything for a while, the silence between them more soothing than any words could have been.
.
.
Eventually, the early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Jimin felt Jungkook’s hand find his again, their fingers intertwining with ease. It was such a simple gesture, yet it meant everything. It was a beginning—a fragile, hopeful beginning.
Jimin turned his head slightly to look at Jungkook, whose gaze was fixed on their hands. Their hands fit together perfectly, as if they were two long-lost puzzle pieces, destined to complete each other. There was something peaceful in the way Jungkook held him now, as if he wasn’t just holding onto Jimin, but also the promise of a future together.
“I know it’s going to take time,” Jungkook said quietly, his voice filled with a kind of quiet determination that made Jimin’s heart ache in the best way. “But I’m here. For as long as it takes.”
Jimin smiled, a small, soft smile that didn’t erase all the pain but made it more bearable. “So am I.”
Jungkook then closed the gap between them, his lips brushing against Jimin’s in a soft, tentative kiss that felt like a promise, like the beginning of something they both had desperately needed but had been too afraid to pursue.
The world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth of their shared breath, the connection that had been frayed yet resilient, finally stitching itself back together with every heartbeat, every whispered word of love and longing.
As the first rays of sunlight bathed the room, Jimin knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges. But for the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of hope, a belief that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.
Together.
the end.