#fwlbingo2020

The moonlight was shining through the curtains, illuminating the small bedroom. It was calm, save for the sound of a small cricket interrupting the silence. You were asleep, tossing and turning as much as your body allowed, letting out sounds of frustration. Stirring awake from the commotion, Jungkook opened his eyes and looked over to you. Ever since your bump started showing, he had developed the ability to be fully aware as soon as he woke up. He liked to call it his fatherly instincts. With your pregnancy nearing its end, that instinct was on high alert. 

Sitting up lightly, holding himself up on his elbow, he scanned your face. You were sound asleep, but you were making that face you only made when you were extremely uncomfortable. He mirrored your expression as his eyes traveled lower, landing on your belly-  he immediately knew what the problem was. 

Jelly bean seemed to be having a hard time sleeping, which in turn made your sleep rather unpleasant. Jungkook sighed. 

“What are you doing, little Jelly?”, he whispered to himself before he started scooting down the bed until he was eye level with your stomach. Keeping his voice to a small whisper, he started talking. 

“Hey baby, it’s daddy. Are you struggling to sleep?”

The bump stopped moving for a second and then resumed to what looked like a kick, which made you groan loudly.  

“Baby, you’re gonna have to stop that or mommy won't be very nice to me tomorrow. She will be all cranky and then call me very bad things that she doesn't mean.” 

The moving stopped again for a second and Jungkook held his breath. But then Jelly started moving once more. He sighed again and looked at the clock that hung on the wall. 3:42 am. Now it was Jungkook's turn to groan. He definitely would be half asleep at his 8 am meeting. 

“Come on, Jelly, work with me here. You sleep today and whatever it is you want for your first birthday you will get, how does that sound?” 

He risked a quick glance at your face, but luckily you were still sleeping. If you had heard that he would be in trouble. You’re spoiling them already?? We can’t be spoiling them before they're even born, Kook! Your voice sounded as clear as day in his head and he couldn't help but giggle a little. Seeing you care so much about your unborn baby made his heart swell with love. 

When he looked back at your tummy, the moving had stopped. Jungkook sighed once more while he slowly slid back up the bed. Before resting his head on the pillow, he leaned over you, checking if the frown on your face had dissolved. Fortunately, it had and you were sleeping peacefully again. Looking at you, he couldn't help but think This is it. There in bed, a baby in your belly, that could only be described as his own utopia. His little family had brought the sunlight back into his life and moments like these made him overflow with happiness to the point he felt he couldn't breathe. 

With teary eyes, he leaned closer and pressed a light kiss on your temple, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. Then, he positioned himself to go back to sleep. If he was lucky, he would get two more hours of rest. 

After a few moments, Jungkook's breathing evened out and he was again sound asleep. It was 3:57 am and everything was at peace, except for the sound of the cricket.

It's how you found yourself in your small home in the back of a big neighborhood tending a garden. You'd picked up gardening on a whim a few years ago. A coworker had offhandedly mentioned how easy it was to grow herbs in your backyard. You felt that familiar pull in your chest to act on it. A similar coincidence- if you could call it that- led to you living in your best friend's uncle's old home. It was a bit out of your budget, but something told you to inquire. Your friend's uncle benevolently offered the place at a lower price like you were meant to be there.

And you were. It was on that day that you felt the final knot and entangled mess of your string of fate straighten out.

On a beautiful, sunny day off, you wiped the sweat from your brow only to replace it with dirt. Your arms started to feel sore in the best way. It meant you were working hard on something you loved. You leaned back to survey the small clearing for a flowerbed, then tipped back to rest against the large rock that almost serves as a border for your property.

Something shocked you almost as if you'd smacked into the rock. You recoiled, but immediately felt drawn in again. You smoothed your gardening gloves over the surface, wondering how you felt such a strange sensation through your clothes.

Immediately, you felt soothed. You stared at the rock in confusion, continuing to run your hands over the surface. A comforting familiarity took over you, and for some reason, you felt the urge to wrap your arms around the thing. You pressed your forehead to the rock and are surprised to find its cool, a welcomed relief from the sun but strange nonetheless. It was refreshing, so you closed your eyes.

A king flickers in your mind. Odd, as you aren’t a fan of period pieces. Long blond hair and a piercing stare made only colder by a fleshy scar. But when the eyes turn to you, there is the kindness that is withheld from all others pouring over you. You hear yourself crying, weeping before a small box with blond hair spilling out. I’m sorry, your voice whispers to you.

Suddenly, the image shifts to foggy city streets. Tailored suits, shy smiles, and hands in pockets walking down a busy street. The same man, though different, hums under his breath only loud enough for you to hear. You say goodbye as the man sobs above you, holding you tight, telling you to hold on. I hate you, your voice bounces in your skull after goodbye.

A dark, broken building. Your memories shake as you dash down a hall and into a room, finding the man back to blond but in tattered clothes, tied to a chair. Again, your vision suddenly flickers to you and that man running, jumping over a cliff as voices shout behind you. Forgive me, your voice races from your lungs like you truly plummet into the water.

Finally, the scenery looks too similar to today. The man stands on stage, waving to a crowd before he rushes down backstage to kiss you passionately, sweaty and ruining your hair. You could almost feel it and the strangest urge tempted you to press your lips to the stone. Suddenly, a car flips. There's screaming, shouting, the sound of helicopters. I love you, your voice tinkles in your head like laughter.

Then nothing. No strange images or stories in your mind.

You wrenched away to stare dumbfounded at the rock. You looked around you. Nothing but your small home and the neighbors under a blue sky. No kings, no broken homes, no helicopters. Compared to the memories, it was peaceful. Your world was no more than ordinary if not basic. You'd never felt like you needed more, as though you were already exhausted from another life. You just needed someone more.

This someone. Or this time, something. Of all the things, it had to be this.

You yanked the gardening gloves from your hands, touching the cool, soft surface of the rock. A foundation. Firm and unwavering, yet it seemed to sag at your touch. As though it was alive within, the water and its minerals holding a soul. You smiled as uncontrollable tears streamed down your face as many versions of you and him became reunited once more.

"I found you, Yoongi."

© 2020 JoopiterJoon. Protected by Creative Commons. If you repost my work in any form or say “credit to author” I will find you and ruin you :D

If you asked Min Yoongi before graduation, where he thought he would be in two years, it wouldn't be here. He would have answered that he would have liked to be training with the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra, having been offered a place with them straight after graduation. He never could have guessed he would be sitting in a physiotherapy clinic , his hands barely able to hold a pen, all because of a head on collision with a drunk driver. But fate has a weird way of messing with people's lives, doesn't it? 

He hadn't always liked piano, in fact, up until he was 15, he had never touched a key. Yoongi had grown up streetwise, not classically trained. But during a summer school program, he thought what the hell and took it as an elective. It was either that or track… no thanks. Yoongi was quick to learn how to play, his teacher noting that he was the quickest student to learn the ins and outs of playing. After he had been given the confidence to play, he had started to pride himself on his dedication to his skills, and to have it taken away from him because of one stupid, selfish ass hole… it burned him. It made him angry. He was supposed to make something of his life, to be recognised for his skill and get off the streets. 

The crash happened one night in June, he had stayed late to practice for his upcoming exam. The driver sped right through a red light, and right into the front of Yoongi's car, he couldn't remember exactly how he got to the hospital, but they said he was lucky to be alive, his head had been split open upon impact, his face and body had been scraped by the glass from the windshield. But the injury that he felt the most were his hands, severely impacted by nerve damage, when he first woke up he had thought they had been amputated, not being able to feel them at all. The doctors had said there was a 40% chance he would be able to control them again, but it wasn't 100%. And to Yoongi, that wasn't enough.

“How are you feeling Yoongi?” He didn't look up to address you, but he nodded his head in acknowledgement. You were the newest in a string of physiotherapists assigned to help Yoongi try and work through his injuries. The others Yoongi had driven away from his outbursts of anger. You were younger than the others, only a year or so older than him, and he had to admit you were pretty to look at. And you hadn't asked for a replacement therapist for him yet, it had been 6 months and you still stayed with him. Yoongi was grateful, even if he had a hard time showing it.

It wasn't that Yoongi didn't want to get better, he wanted nothing more than to be able to use his hands again, but at the same time, he was tired of trying and getting nowhere. He was angry. 

He hated that what happened happened to him, after he had worked too hard to get to where he was. He would never, ever get an opportunity like that again, it wasn't just his slot in the symphony and his ability to play he lost, his friends, he had eventually pushed them away one by one. He couldn't stand the sympathetic way they spoke to him, giving him advice they found on google on how he could get his hands back to the way they were. What the fuck would they know about anything. The only person he seemed to open up with was you, you didn't push him, but you did challenge him to do the exercises. 

The therapy was slow, infuriatingly so. It was like no matter what he did or how much he tried, he was incapable of the simplest of things. His writing looked like chicken scratch, he would barely grip onto anything without dropping it, even getting dressed took twice as long and made his hands ache, 

“You've made some great progress in the last year, I know it's not as much as you want it to be, but progress is progress.” 

It was a slow process, painstakingly slow. But after months of you challenging Yoongi with the physiotherapy, Yoongi could finally see some progress. He could write his name in a somewhat presentable way, he could fully grasp anything without it aching, but he would hold things slightly. It even hurt less to button up his shirt in the morning. You were so proud of Yoongi for sticking at it and trying as much as he can muster. The whole reason you took this job was to help people get their lives back on track, and to see Yoongi smile when he was able to do something with his hands made it all worth it. 

You had decided to pay Yoongi a visit today instead of being cooped up in the clinic for hours, there was no reason you couldn't do his exercises at home afteral. Yoongi had given you a spare key to let yourself in, and had told you the flat number that was his. You had brought him some lunch from a bakery you remember him saying was his favourite place to go after practice. 

Fiddling with the key in the lock you made your way inside and set the lunch on the kitchen table. You heard a soft off key melody being played in the next room, re must have not heard you enter. Making your way slowly to the door, you spot him sitting at his piano, his hands tentatively playing the keys. You could see the concentration that was etched onto his features, and the shaking of his hands. It was a serene moment that you loved to see with him, but it was cut short when you heard another off key moment, and his hands slammed into the keys, causing him to cry out. You rushed over to where he was in an instant, afraid he had hurt himself, he seemed to only then notice you as he let you inspect his shaking hands.

“You know better Yoongi, no straining your muscles!” You look over his hands, gently turning them over in your own.

“Whats the point of trying to get better if Im NOT getting better, what the fuck am I suposed to do! I'm no closer than I was when all this shit first happened!”

Your heart went out to him, it really did. You knew Yoongi's background from your little conversations during your sessions. You knew where he'd come from and how hard he'd trained and worked for this chance.

“That's not true, you've made great progress, a year ago you couldn't even pick up a pen, let alone play the piano like you just did . Yoongi I know it's hard, but a big part of recovery is the patience and time you put into it. It's not an overnight thing. You know that..”

He said nothing, just breathing through the numb feeling he now felt in his hands. He nodded slowly and looked up at you, your hands still holding his own. 

“What if it never goes away… Y/N what if everything I've worked for can never come true, and I'm stuck with a bunch of what ifs for the rest of my life….”

“Is that what you're most afraid of?”

He nodded, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I've worked so hard… I've put so much energy into this, I can't imagine doing anything else…”

“Yoongi, I know you can do this, you just need to give it time. And I know you're gonna get back on your feet, and you're gonna get over this… you've just got to give it time.” 

He was nervous. He was so fucking nervous. It had taken him years after the accident to get here. Watching just off the stage as the audition before he finished up, he was good, his melodies were flawless. Yoongi had to commend him on his steady hand. Looking at his own, he was full of doubt. He wasn't sure he would be good enough to do this audition. 

He walks out in a daze. The nape of his neck started to feel hot. He introduces himself, and he takes his place on the bench. He swallows, and looks out to the crowd. It was then he saw you enter quietly, taking a seat in the empty isle. You came. He suddenly thought of everything you'd said to him through his recovery, the promises of staying by his side, the encouraging smiles when he started practising again. Even when his sessions were over, you still stayed in touch with him and encouraged him even more. It wasn't until the judges panel motioned for him to start that he gave his hands a small squeeze.

Life hasn't been easy for him recently. Everything had changed for him. It was a slow process. But he's here, he made it. 

But while it would be great for your chosen degree, he couldn't help but be selfish in not wanting you to go. It had taken him months to pluck up the courage to ask you out, and when he did, the months he spent with you were honestly the best months of his college years. 

But while you had successfully put the conversation to the back of your minds, eventually time had run out for you and you both sat down to talk. It didn't go well. It had started off with you telling him all the different things you would be doing and how it will boost your credits for when university applications come around, and it was when you asked Jungkook's honest opinion when it all went south.

“I honestly can't say I want you to go..”

“Jungkook, this is an amazing opportunity for me, you know I've had my mind set on it for ages.”

“Then why ask me?! If you're just going to up and leave anyway why bother asking my opinion.”

“Because you're my boyfriend, your opinion is important to me!”

“If you leave I won't be”

Maybe he shouldn't have said that, but then again, you misread his reply completely. You had left quietly, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. The second he was alone he regretted what he said instantly. He didn't mean it to sound like a threat of him breaking up with you, quite the opposite. He was afraid of losing you. God he loved you, and that was where his fears stemmed from. If you left, what hope was there for your relationship? Long distance relationships never work out do they? You would find someone new and live your new life away from him, leaving him behind as you bloom in the sun.

Now here he was, driving over the speed limit, racing to the airport. God he was a fool. You were leaving tonight, your flight leaving at 9:20 pm. You had sent him text after text asking if you could see him before you left, but he dismissed all of them, too much of a coward to confront the inevitable. The others had also bombarded him with texts and phone calls, begging him to come to his senses and stop being a coward. Namjoon had even turned up at his apartment, begging him to go see you before you left, knowing it would eat him alive when you were really gone. He had made his mind up, and he was praying to whatever god out there that you would forgive him.

Parking his car hastily, he rushed into the airport as quickly as he could, scrambling to departure gate 8. “Please, please be there” He muttered to himself as he ran up the escalator. The noise of the airport all seemed to fade into a muffled white noise as he approached the gate, and looking at the display tv, his heart dropped into a pit of despair.

“Departed on time”

The gate was closed, the plane had already left, Jungkook had missed you, and he had left your relationship shattered like a mirror. He breathed heavily, his shoulders sank in defeat as he simply stared at the gate. How could he have been such an ass hole. He should have been supporting you from day one. He should have said all the things burning in his mind, that he would fight for your relationship, and wait however long he needed to. His legs felt like jelly as he sunk down into a seat in the waiting area, head in his hands. His eyes were closed, trying to force himself not to cry in frustration

“Jungkook?” 

His head shot up hearing his name. Namjoon and Taehyung stood not far away from him, coffees in their hands. 

“Why are you sat down here man, come on were all at gate 3”

“What's the point, guys I missed her”

“Jungkook-”

“No Taehyung, I've LOST her, I tried to get here on time to tell her- she- “

“Jungkook-”

“shes gone and I was a dick to he-”

“JUNGKOOK” Namjoon interjected loudly, drawing the attention of some of the people sitting in the lounge. Namjoon grasped Jungkook's shoulder, making Jungkook look at him.

“She moved her flight, she's at gate 3 she leaves in an hour, you still have time!” Jungkooks world stopped. She was still here, he still had time. He could fix everything.

“Come on man, we'll take you to her” Taehyung grabbed his arm, and they made their way to gate number three where the others were waiting.

They reached the gate, and Jungook immediately overlooked the waiting crowds, spotting the group immediately. You were there, sat with Jimin and Jin laughing and talking about nothing in particular with Yoongi. He held his breath as you turned in his direction, praying you would reject him. And as he got closer to the group, the breath he was holding in was finally released as you shot up and embraced him.

“I hoped you would come” you mumbled into his neck, Jungkook wrapping his arms around you so tight, afraid to let you go. “I moved my flight just in case you would” Jungkook let out a shaky breath.

“y/n, Im so fucking sorry, I was such an ass. I want you to go, I want you to have a great time overseas” He cupped your wet cheeks in his as he looked into your eyes. “ But I also don't want to let you go” his thumbs wiped your cheeks as your hands grasped his.

“Jungkook I don't want to break up, long distance is doable, and you can always visit me! If your ok waiting for me we can make this work I know we can”

Jungkook was now crying freely, you had his heart in your hands, and he would let you take it anywhere if it meant you would come back to him. You spent the next hour before your departure talking though everything, and jungkook even looked up flight prices for future visits. Eventually the plane had started boarding, and you hugged everyone, preparing to start a new chapter of your life. When it came to Jungkooks turn, he picked you up, kissing you deeply, whispering in your ear that he would wait for you, and would visit you as soon as he could. 

He stood at the gate with the others until the plane had fully left, wanting to watch you off for as long as he could. 

The air smelt like rain and wild flowers, it reminded him of when he would catch the scent of your perfume on his clothes or his sheets. The comforting feeling he felt after the smell was a welcome warmth in his chest. 

Jungkook loved to walk this way to college solely for the scents coming from the beds of wildflowers that lined the dirt path. He breathed deeply and took in the scent as his head bopped to his playlist as he scrolled through his social media.

It had been eight months since you left to study abroad, and everyday he misses you even more. Jungkook remembers how he almost lost you completely because of his own fears, but you had worked it out right before your plane left and he promised to wait for you. You said it was like a declaration of love straight out of a movie, the guy goes after the girl before she leaves. An inside joke for you both, but he never regrets the somewhat cheesy way he went about things. Not when it came to you.

 It had been a rough first couple of months for him, not used to you being gone, but slowly, he had managed to find a routine with you that was satisfying. 

He would check your Instagram often, not daily like he used to, but enough to be teased by Jin and Jimin. You would text each other good morning and talk on the phone when you could, usually one of you would be up way past the normal sleeping time. You even sent him little postcards or letters with photographs you had taken, all of them on Jungkook's wall. 

There was also time Jungkook got to visit you on break from college, his parents had helped pay for the trip as a birthday gift, and you had spent the whole time with him either sight seeing or in bed.

But Jungkook had to admit, not being able to see you face to face everyday ate away at him slightly. He had no doubt that you and he were serious in your feelings for each other. The endless sweet nothings whispered over video call and the constant Snapchats, Instagrams and tweets were enough to keep him from feeling sad about you not being here. 

It's the physical contact, or lack of, that gets him. Nothing dirty minded, although he misses your lazy mornings and late nights... He just missed the hugs and little smooches he'd share with you. The movie nights, the lunches, the play fighting. 

With all the social interaction between you both, it was hard for him not to miss the physical interaction.