After getting diagnosed with a rare, terminal illness and being forced right out of his perfectly normal life, Jeon Jeongguk lost all his faith in living. Just six more months and he'll be dead. Gone. Forgotten. However, when a new hospital friendsh...
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When they got back to the hospital, Jeongguk followed Taehyung in silence toward the back entrance to the garden. The rain didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon, and Jeongguk couldn't shake off the giddiness bursting inside of his chest even though the gravity of their previous conversation lingered in the back of his mind.
He just couldn't help it. How could he think of anything else when his hand was in Taehyung's? When they approached the exit, he stopped in his tracks, solemn eyes meeting his. He gave him a questioning look, silently asking if he was okay and hoping he would give him an answer.
And he did. Somewhat. Instead, he took his hand in his. His warm, calloused delicately enveloped Jeongguk's, making Jeongguk's breath hitch in his throat. It was the first time Taehyung ever reached for him in that way, and perhaps in that moment, the smallest of gestures felt enough.
Taehyung squeezed his hand lightly, the hesitance in his trembling fingers being overlooked by Jeongguk, who was too dazed to notice. With that, Taehyung took his silence as an approval to head outside. He pushed open the door with his elbow, a gust of cool air billowing through his hair. Together, gazes no longer meeting, they went out.
Jeongguk glanced down at their intertwined hands, noticing the little tattoos on their fingers. His head lifted upward to see Taehyung's back was to him. He swallowed, chest tight as his attention was captured by the tiny, useless tattoos on their fingers.
They were supposed to mean something, but now that they were holding hands, they were merely random lines. They were tangents that wouldn't ever meet.
Tangents that were never supposed to meet.
It was funny. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he couldn't bring himself to make a light-hearted jab. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He tried not to focus on the ache in his chest, instead focusing the sharp pinch beneath his arms as his crutches dug into his underarms because at least that pain was more tolerable than a form of heartache he didn't have the energy to analyze.
Outside was cold. So unbearably cold that the warmth of Taehyung's hand faded into the hazy, dark gray atmosphere. Jeongguk tilted his head back, feeling the splatter of icey rain water pelt his cheeks. It stung only a little but it was a sting nonethless.
"If only we had music, right?" Taehyung teased. It was a shoddy attempt to ease the tension but it was still an attempt. Although, Jeongguk said nothing, continuing to let the rain drench his clothes and plaster his hair to his forehead.
They were no longer under the protection of the building. They were out by the flower boxes where they went bird watching. Once they were vivid and lively, but now as he stood beside them and studied their appearance, he realized how muted they were. He noticed the droop of their stems, the faded petals, and the fallen, dried leaves pooling at the bottom of the planters.
The plant was dying even though Spring wasn't over. Spring was nowhere finished, and yet these flowers seemed to be trapped in winter.
Jeongguk ripped his gaze away from the planter box and back to where Taehyung stood in front of him. He was soaked, his shirt clinging to his chest, and his silver hair was a dark gray akin to the skies. Taehyung was staring at him, face gaunt and his eyes drowsy. His cheeks and nose were also a bright rosy red.
