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I would love the read a fic where one of them (preferably jm) is blind :( but i can only find really short ones
And At Last I See The Light: 29k high school au, bad boy!yoongi, blind!jimin, fluff, light angst
Your Heart Of Stone: 29k fantasy au, medusa!yoongi, blind!jimin, read tags, fluff, smut, angst with a happy ending
Sightless :: 12
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word Count: 1,634
Pair: Yoongi x Jimin
Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)
“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.
Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.
But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”
A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.
JIMIN
He didn’t know what kind of dream he had. As soon as Jimin slipped into consciousness, it all turned into a blur. His head was dizzy from the morphine, something thick was wrapped around his eyes.
Groaning quietly, he heard footsteps approach his bed. “Are you awake Jimin? It’s Doctor Oh.”
Slowly becoming fully awake and fully aware of his surroundings, he lifted a hand toward the direction of the voice as he felt the unfamiliar hand, assuming it was the doctor’s taking it. “Did it go well?”
“The operation was successful, Park Jimin, congratulations.” Smiling nervously, Jimin lightly laughed at his response. “You’ve slept long enough for your eyes to start the healing process. In fact, if you feel ready, we can take off the bandage now.”
Jimin’s heart thumped in his chest. Colors. He’d see colors again. “Is he here, Doctor Oh?”
“He’s in the room with us, but I warned him not to be too loud. The morphine can make your ears sensitive to sounds. Now, are you ready?”
Hesitating for a moment, suddenly scared of what he would expect, he finally nodded as he felt the doctor's hand work the bandage on the back of his head.
The pressure of the bandage loosened as it unwrapped from his head, his own fingers trembling from excitement. Once it was completely off, Doctor Oh pulled the cotton pads off of his eyelids. “There you go.”
Jimin kept his eyes squeezed shut, frozen. He was so scared. What if it wasn’t everything he thought it’d be? What if Yoongi didn’t like that Jimin would be able to see him? What if the world appeared much scarier than he remembered?
“Jimin?” He heard the doctor call his name softly. “You can open your eyes now.”
Slowly opening his eyelids, his heart came to a still. Despite it being half opened, he made out colors already, and blurry shapes. Opening his eyes all the way, Jimin stared at the wall in front of him in the dim room. It was far too blurry for him to make out anything specific yet.
Giving it a few minutes, his vision began to clear up as he recognized a stool and a few paintings decorating one of the walls. Shifting his eyes toward the right, he spotted a man wearing a white jacket with a wide grin on his face. “Doctor Oh.” Jimin smiled.
He held up a small mirror in his hands as Jimin peered into it with a quiet gasp. His face. He was looking at his own face. It was different from what he remembered. His eyes were darker, his frazzled pumpkin colored hair poked upwards. It had been two years since he saw his own face. Two years he aged and saw something unfamiliar looking back at him. He forced himself to hold back the tears of happiness, admiring every little detail of his own appearance.
Spotting another person behind him in the reflection, his head turned in the opposite direction of the room where the second figure quietly stood.
His face was round and tan sporting one of the biggest, boxy smiles. But it looked very familiar, like he’d known it all his life. “Taehyung?” Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise, taking in the appearance of his best friend. “You’ve...gotten so old.”
“Excuse me, you’re seeing this handsome face for the first time in two years and that’s the first thing that popped in your mind? I’m offended.” Taehyung playfully ran a hand through his pumpkin hair.
“Well, seeing that the surgery was very successful and you’re not having any issues, I’m going to run to the nurse’s desk and ask her to get your prescriptions ready. I’ll leave you be with your friend for now. Congratulations again, Mr. Park.” The doctor pat his shoulder before exiting the room, leaving the two boys in silence.
“Taehyung, where’s Yoongi?”
“What do you mean?”
Jimin searched the dark room with his eyes, taking in the overwhelming amount of shapes he recognized as well as new ones he’d never seen before. “Yoongi. He was here before I went into surgery. He said he’d be in this room.”
“Jimin?” A flicker of confusion was seen on his face. “He’s not here.”
He froze momentarily before laughing. “Stop kidding around. Did he go to the bathroom? Or to get some coffee? He made a promise that he’d let me see him the moment I woke up. Where...where is he?”
Taehyungs features were stoic, his jaw clenched. “Jimin, no one was here when I came.”
Realizing that Taehyung’s tone was serious, which was an extremely rare event, the realization hit him like a pile of bricks. “That can’t be. Why would he leave?” Jimin pulled the IV out of his arm and jumped off the bed as Taehyung shouted behind him. “Yoongi?” Jimin ran out into the busy hallway, scattered with nurses, wheelchairs and gurneys. The sight of it overwhelmed him, a growing headache pounded in his head.
“Yoongi, where are you?” He called out, waiting for a familiar voice to respond. Instead of hearing one, Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s shoulders, pulling him back into the room.
“You idiot! Are you trying to throw all of this to waste? You just got out of surgery!” Taehyung yelled, but Jimin wasn’t listening. He leaned against the bed, slightly rocking himself back and forth as his mind was filled with questions.
Where was Yoongi? Why didn’t he stay? Why did he leave him on a Saturday? Jimin couldn’t go anywhere without him on Saturdays.
As his breath quickened, realizing he was out of the safety of his apartment without Yoongi, visions of the crash flickered through his mind. The headlights were brighter than ever, the classical song echoed in his ears.
“If you ever fall back into your previous state, or something triggers you, you have to remember that you will not get hurt.”
Forget what Yoongi said, forget any of that. His comfort was gone. His safe place was gone. The person he grew to love was gone. A sense of emptiness took over his chest.
“Jimin...Jimin are you listening to me?”
“Can I have some water?” He whispered quietly as Taehyung gave in with a sigh, nodding at his request. Walking to the other side of the bed to get the water, Taehyung spotted something and picked it up with curiosity.
“Jimin, this has your name on it.” Jimin’s head spun around as he eyed Taehyung holding a little, neatly folded object.
“Let me see it.” He took it from Taehyung’s hands, carefully unfolding the piece of paper, flattening out the creases. Words were scribbled on it, but it had been so long since he read something, and it was still too blurry for him.
“Taehyung, can you read this for me?”
Taking the paper from his hands, he carefully and slowly read the letter out loud with a pained expression, a choked gasp coming from Jimin.
Jimin’s eyes burned as tears poured down his cheeks. Taehyung tried his best to console his broken hearted best friend, but he knew anything he said would be useless at the moment.
As Jimin took the paper in his hands, forcing himself to read the letter, trying to understand the curves and scribbles written across it, hot tears dripped onto it, causing the ink to smear.
His legs gave out as he collapsed toward the ground, his best friend wrapping an arm over his shoulder for support. “You idiot!” Jimin shouted as he sobbed loudly, the paper crinkling in his hands. He could only hear the sound of his own heart shattering into a million pieces, the feeling of a chunk of him being forcefully ripped away. “You absolute and complete asshole, Min Yoongi!”
Park Jimin,
I know I made a promise. I know I was supposed to be in that room when you woke up. You’re probably mad at me. That’s okay, I would be too.
From the very moment I met you, Jimin, I knew you were something special. I never showed it at first, but as time went by, it grew harder and harder to keep my distance. I was never able to say this, but my feelings for you grew tremendously. So much that it hurt every time I looked into your eyes. Every time that you laughed. Every time I watched you trip over something and had to refrain myself from laughing.
I wanted to stay by your side every day, hold your hand and hear you describe all the things you could see. I wanted to watch you play at the arcade with your friends on a Saturday evening without a single worry about your past. I wanted to play you my songs on the piano and get your opinion on whether I should change some notes or not. I wanted to wake up to you beside me in the mornings, watching your smile shine brighter than the sun that hadn’t risen yet.
I wanted to tell you these things countless times, but I could never find the courage to do so.
Due to unavoidable circumstances, I had to leave Seoul and deal with family matters. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this. I planned on doing so, but as time passed by, it got harder to find the the will to say it. At this point, being the coward I am, it was easier to leave without a word than to watch you fall apart.
But Jimin, you must remember the things I told you earlier. You must never let this get in your way nor the other struggles you come across. Continue living how you have.
We will meet again, Park Jimin.
I’m so sorry.
I love you.
I love you so much.
-Min Yoongi
A Small Comfort In My Heart (It’s You)
Author(s): Imperatritsa
Pairing(s): Yoonmin
Genre: Fluff, Romance, College/University AU, Childhood Friends AU, Hybrid AU
Rating: (PG-13)
Length: Oneshot/10k+
Warnings: Swearing
Summary: Yoongi couldn't help the way he fell in love with his best friend.
Read Here
♕ Please Leave Kudos or Comments If You Enjoyed The Fic ♕
Sightless :: 11
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word Count: 1,827
Pair: Yoongi x Jimin
Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)
“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.
Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.
But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”
A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.
YOONGI
Yoongi called his mother countless times. He begged her over and over. But when he found the tickets sitting in his mailbox, he knew that his stubborn mother would refuse to end the battle. She already ended his apartment lease, kicked him out of his own school and cut off his bank account. Yoongi didn’t have a choice but to go back, his mother was far too powerful for him to keep running away.
He was going to tell Jimin as soon as retrieved the train tickets, but that being so long ago, it got harder and harder to tell him as the day drew closer. It made him feel like a coward, but Jimin was already dealing with so much. He couldn’t bear to see a pained expression on his face. But what really, really pushed Yoongi to the edge was that the train took off the same day as his surgery. Of all days.
Of all fucking days.
Yoongi didn’t know how long he would be gone for, but knowing that it’s his mother, of all people, it wasn’t going to be an easy battle. But for certain, he was going to go home, talk some sense into her and try to get his life back.
But with this weight hanging heavily on his shoulders, Yoongi was at a complete loss of whether he should keep his distance with Jimin because he was afraid of growing too desperate from the slightest touch, or to spend every moment inches away from him, holding his warm hand, staring into his colorless eyes.
The kiss, oh god the kiss. It was everything he ever wanted and also the worst decision he ever made. The fact that Jimin initiated it was absolutely no help at all. He wanted more, he needed more. He was desperate for Jimin’s gentle touch and he craved for his presence when Jimin wasn’t around.
Yoongi resisted though. He kept a small distance between the two of them and was going to stay that way until he left. Anything else more would make him break.
As much as it pained him terribly to make this decision, it was something he needed to do.
----------
“No, Jimin. Put the apple away.” Yoongi scowled when he caught a glimpse of Jimin rummaging through the kitchen. “You’re not supposed to eat anything.”
“But I’m...so hungry. It’s the bored kind of hungry, which makes it worse.” The pumpkin haired boy whined, tossing the apple back into the fridge.
“Then let’s take a walk.”
“But it’s cold, what if I get sick?” He continued whining as Yoongi threw his hands in the air.
“You’re not going to get sick if you bundle up well. Come on, there’s nothing to do and clearly you’re ready to claw the walls any second now.” Yoongi gathered their clothes, wrapping a scarf tightly around Jimin’s neck and shoving a beanie onto his pumpkin hair. He slipped on Jimin’s black glasses and gave him the white cane before opening the door, a blast of cold air blowing in.
But what caught his eye was that the scenery in front of him was covered with a blanket of a white, fluffy substance. At least two inches of it.
“Jimin,” Yoongi called with a smile. “Give me your hand, I want you to feel something.”
With a confused expression, he watched Jimin hold out his arm as Yoongi scooped some of it and pressed it onto his bare hand, watching him jump in surprise until he registered what it was. “Snow? Is there snow?” Yoongi observed Jimin’s eyes growing wide in marvel as he rushed outside, hearing the snow crunch under his shoes. “Let’s go down! I want to play in the snow!”
It only took seconds for Jimin to run to the elevator and impatiently waited as it carried them to the ground level. Without wasting a moment, Jimin dropped his cane and ran out into the small grassy field covered with untouched snow just outside of the apartment complex.
The boy plopped onto the snow and rolled around, his dark clothes getting covered with a layer of white dust. While he had the widest grin on his face, Yoongi wore a frown on his.
It was only less than 24 hours until his surgery, only less than 24 hours until Yoongi’s train took off. The time with Jimin was so limited, but he wasn’t going to stop fighting. He would do everything he could to get back to Seoul as soon as dealt with his parents.
Shaking his head, Yoongi bent down and scooped up a pile of snow with his bare hands, smashing it together until it formed a somewhat decent sphere. Aiming at his target, he threw his arm up in the air and tossed the ball, hitting Jimin square on the back.
“What was that?” Jimin suddenly asked until he began laughing, rolling a ball of snow in his hands before throwing it toward Yoongi, but failing miserably. With a teasing tone, he made fun of Jimin’s terrible aim as he stomped he way toward the grass
He bent over and packed snow together continuously until it became a ball that grew bigger. Rolling it along the snow, it stuck to the ball until it was the height of his knees and made another one just a bit smaller.
“What are you doing?” Jimin asked as he finished his snow angel.
“I’m making a snowman as ugly as you because I have no snow sculpting abilities.” Yoongi stated as he stacked the three snowballs together into a somewhat lopsided snowman. He found two large stones nearby for the eyes and a twig with a single leaf on it to be the nose. “Check it out, what a masterpiece.” Yoongi boasted as Jimin felt it’s rough edges with a warm giggle.
“You’re right, it is ugly.”
“Just because I said it was ugly doesn’t mean you can agree with me!” Yoongi lightly pushed Jimin’s shoulder, causing him to lose balance and slip on the icy grass, pulling Yoongi down with him.
With a loud thump, Yoongi heard Jimin’s body hit the white powder as he landed on top. “Are you okay?” He suddenly asked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. Right before your surgery of all days too.”
“I’m fine.” Jimin gave him a reassuring smile, his eyelashes sprinkled with small flakes of ice, his pumpkin hair contrasting against the white ground. Jimin’s frozen, nearly purple fingers reached up and rested them on his cheeks, sending a chill down his spine. “Your cheeks are so warm.”
Yoongi eyed him carefully, observing and remembering every small little detail about him. His nose and ears completely turned pink, his cloudy, pale eyes always looking just a little off angled from Yoongi’s when they glanced at each other. His pumpkin hair always pushed back because the fringe got into his eyes and bothered him.
He ran a thumb along his lip, his head slowly leaning closer toward them, but froze when their lips were only centimeters apart. He could feel the heat radiating off of Jimin’s skin, hearing the soft inhale of his breath.
Feeling a painful throb in his chest, Yoongi backed away and stood up instead, brushing the snow off of his pants. “We should go inside before you get hurt.” He glanced at Jimin, his face carried a troubled expression. Yoongi felt regret grow inside of him, but it was for the best.
At least he thought it was.
----------
“I’m so nervous.” Jimin said as he walked out of the bathroom dressed in a hospital gown, his clothes folded neatly in his hands. “What if it doesn’t work?”
“Jimin, you’re overthinking it. You’re going to wake up and see all the colors of the world. Okay?” Yoongi took the clothes from him and put it in the small duffle bag that sat by Jimin’s assigned bed. “Take a deep breath.” Yoongi breathed in, watching Jimin mimic him and breathed out. It was written all over his face, Yoongi had never seen him more nervous about anything before.
Following with a knock on the door, a nurse entered the room with a small pole on wheels that carried a few items used for physical examinations. “Park Jimin? If you could please sit on the bed, I need to check your vitals as we prepare the operation room.”
Sitting on the stool beside the bed, Yoongi watched the nurse pull out the different objects one by one. She checked the boy’s ears, his mouth, the heartbeat, nodded a few times and scribbled some words on her clipboard. “Everything seems to be in perfect condition, Mr. Park. Have you eaten anything in the past 24 hours?”
Jimin rapidly shook his head, pressing a hand on his own stomach. “But I’m starving though.” He whined as the nurse chuckled.
“Don’t worry, we’ll have food prepared for you afterwards. You can eat all you want then. Sound good?”
Beaming, Jimin gave the nurse a hopeful nod as she cleaned up the supplies, hanging them back onto the pole. “Doctor Oh will be with you in just a minute, your procedure will begin in about ten minutes.” The nurse stated before exiting the room, closing the door behind her.
“Jimin, listen to me.” Yoongi’s voice was soft, so soft as if he lowered it only enough for just Jimin to hear it. “No matter what happens after you wake up, you must not let anything ever stop you. Okay?”
“Yoongi, what are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying, whether you see or not, do only the things you want to do, not things that you’re limited to. Whether you’re alone or not on Saturdays, take some time to walk outside, see your friends. Do dumb things with them, especially Taehyung. If you ever fall back into your previous state, or something triggers you, you have to remember that you will not get hurt. These past Saturday's we’ve gone outside have proved it to you. Just keep reminding yourself that what happened in the past will stay in the past forever. Promise me this.”
“Yoongi,” Jimin laughed quietly, growing with concern. “Why does it sound like you’re-” He was interrupted by a knock on the door as the doctor walked in, dressed in scrubs.
“Hello Jimin, Yoongi.” Doctor Oh greeted with a friendly smile as nurses behind him dragged in a gurney. “Are you ready for this, Mr. Park?”
Nervously, Jimin nodded his head as the doctor guided him toward the bed, carefully laying him down. Jimin turned his head in the direction of where Yoongi stood, holding a hand out. “Can he come with me?”
“Of course, but once we hit the operation doors, he has to stay out here. Does that sound good?” With a nod, they began to drag the bed out of the room, down the quiet hall toward the operation room. It was far too early in the morning for anyone to wander down the halls. All the patients were still sleeping, the nurses sipped their coffee and chattered quietly in the corners.
Yoongi took Jimin’s hand in his, squeezing it tightly as the doctor explained the procedure and the side effects for when he woke up. The operation doors came into view as Doctor Oh gave Yoongi a nod, signaling that it was time for them to go in.
“You’re going to be here when I wake up right?” Jimin asked quietly.
Clenching his jaw tightly, he fought back the words he really wanted to say. “I’ll be right here.” He hated lying, he hated it. He hated knowing how broken he was going to feel, that he wouldn’t be there when Jimin opened his eyes. He hated knowing that Jimin was going to spend his Saturdays alone. “Taehyung and the others will be here soon, we’ll all be waiting for you.”
Yoongi felt Jimin’s warm fingers slip out of his hand as emptiness grew inside of him. “I’ll be right here.” He muttered as the nurses began rolling the bed toward the doors.
“Hey Yoongi.” Jimin yelped as the entryway opened to a new hall. “I’ll see you soon.”
While Jimin disappeared behind the doors with the biggest smile on his face, Yoongi fought to hold back his words as his eyes brimmed with tears. He felt so much joy for Jimin, but at the same time he was in so much pain. It hurt. It hurt so fucking bad.
Overwhelmed with emotion, Yoongi fell onto his knees as his body gave in. Tears spilled down his cheeks as choked sobs erupted from his throat. Clutching his chest, he gasped in between his sobs, regretting the very decision he had to make. “I’m sorry Jimin. I’m so, so sorry.”
Sightless :: 10
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word Count: 1,487
Pair: Yoongi x Jimin
Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)
“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.
Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.
But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”
A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.
JIMIN
“We found you a donor, Mr. Park. The documents are signed and prepared. We can schedule you for a surgery next month. All we need is the okay from you.”
“I’ll do it!” Jimin didn’t waste a minute to respond. “I’ll do it Doctor Oh!”
“That’s the spirit, I’ll call you back to set up an appointment to go over the details of it. Have a great day Mr. Park.”
“Thank you so much, thank you!” Jimin bowed multiple times with the phone in his hand, trying to show his gratitude although he knew the doctor wouldn’t see it through the device.
“What happened?” Yoongi suddenly asked as Jimin hung up the phone with the biggest smile.
“I got a donor, it’s official! They can set up the surgery next month!”
“Are you serious?” Yoongi gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly.
“I’m getting my sight back! It’s actually happening. Oh my god, I’m going to be able to-“ He was suddenly interrupted when he felt a pair of lips slam against his.
Shocked at first, Jimin froze for a few seconds before he closed his eyes, melting into his touch. Their bodies pressed together, Yoongi’s lips melded into his. They were so warm and a little chapped, but it was exactly as Jimin imagined. He had grazed his fingers across his lips far too many times when identifying Yoongi’s face, never had he thought he would get to kiss them, but he desperately wished so. Uncertain of what Yoongi would have said about it, Jimin just kept it buried deep in the back of his thoughts.
It was gentle at first, but then Jimin felt the desperation grow in Yoongi. Suddenly pushed against the wall behind him, Yoongi’s kiss grew deeper, as if he had been holding it in all this time. His hands moved from Jimin’s shoulders to his flushed cheeks as Jimin wrapped his arms around his torso.
The world melted away from them, all things seem to have come to a halt. Nothing mattered to two at the moment. Just the sensation of their skin touching and the intimacy that hung in the air between them was enough.
Before they got too carried away, Jimin tilted his head back against the wall, gasping. He heard heavy breaths fill the air as they were nose to nose. The butterflies tickled inside of his stomach, the muscles in his body went numb and his legs turned into jelly.
Jimin couldn’t see Yoongi, he couldn’t figure out what he was possibly thinking. Was he smiling? Frowning? Was this a terrible idea? Was it a good one?
Based on a light, satisfied laugh he heard just now, Jimin confirmed it. It was most definitely a good idea.
“Should we tell your friends that it’s official this time?” Yoongi asked, his thumb gently stroking Jimin’s cheek.
“We should, but that can be dealt with later. My mind is a bit distracted right now.” Jimin could bet a million bucks that Yoongi had a smirk on his face as he giggled, his eyes turning into those usual crescents whenever he was happy.
Jimin tilted his head upwards and met with Yoongi’s lips again, but this time, with his help, he finally aimed right. Yoongi slung an arm around Jimin’s waist as their lips locked, the longing of Yoongi’s touch that was pushed in the back of his mind was finding it’s way to the surface.
His senses were on fire, the heat of the kiss taking over his thoughts. He expected Yoongi to be the rough type, but to his surprise, he was actually so gentle, so careful as if Jimin could break under his touch.
“I don’t think you understand how long I’ve waited for that.” Jimin said quietly after their lips parted to catch their breath. He could sense Yoongi smiling again, Jimin’s fingers gently caressing his cheek.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
They stood in silence, small giggles filling the air every now and then as they took in the moment.
But within a few minutes, Yoongi’s hands grew cold and clammy as Jimin felt him let go and back away, cold air filling the space between them. Was he regretting it now? “Yoongi, what is it?” His heart dropped into his stomach, scared that he may have done something wrong.
“Uh, nothing.” He heard uncertainty in his voice. “We should get back to work, we made a deal. When the phone dies, break is over.”
Frowning, Jimin didn’t know how to respond to his sudden demeanor. Although it was technically Jimin who initiated the kiss in his first place, Yoongi was the one who took it another step further. It wasn't fair of him to grow distant all of the sudden.
“Yoongi, if this is about-”
“It’s not, don’t worry. I just have a lot on my mind. Come on, we need to finish this.” Jimin heard Yoongi pat a hand on the piano bench, gesturing to come back.
Biting his lip, the usual nervous habit, he returned to the piano, running his fingers along the smooth keys. As he played random notes, he heard Yoongi aggressively scribbling on paper, trying his best to figure out what he was possibly thinking.
For the rest of that day, unless had to do with the final and editing the composition, neither of them had spoken a word, leaving a heavy atmosphere in the room.
----------
“Now, you’ll need to go 24 hours without food or drinks, water is acceptable. You will also feel drowsy with some frequent headaches the next few days afterwards. That is completely normal. It’s going to be overwhelming at first, to be able to see everything.” The doctor instructed, piling papers in front of the two boys that sat at the desk.
The semester had come to an end, Yoongi and Jimin successfully turned in their projects and treated themselves to drinks that night, celebrating the finishing of the first half of their school year.
The incident from earlier wasn’t spoken of afterwards. The two moved on with their life like nothing had ever happened, but mentally, Jimin questioned his actions over and over. It was the only thing on his mind ever since then. Dare he say he grew even more attracted to him? Longing for more of his touch? To just do nothing but be next to him? Laugh at his lousy attempts at jokes? To gently touch his face and try, try his very best to paint a picture of what he looked like in his mind.
There was only a week left until his big surgery, Jimin dragged Yoongi along to his appointment to discuss the smaller details of it. Each day that passed by, Jimin grew more nervous, yet excited. He thought of all the things he was going to do once he was able to see. One of them was dancing, without a doubt.
“Keep these papers in a file, or somewhere safe when you get home. These are the official documents and signatures from everyone. You’ll need to hold onto these in case anything were to come up.”
“Thank you Doctor Oh. I cannot express my appreciation.”
“I’m glad you look forward to it on a bright note. Anyhow, your surgery will be on Saturday, December 20th. It’ll be early in the morning, but you’ll be able to get plenty of rest in your room during the day.”
Jimin’s smile faltered, but then grinned even wider with a confident nod. Concluding their meeting, Yoongi and Jimin stood, giving him a quick bow before leaving his office.
Clutching onto the small stack of papers tightly in one hand and the white cane in the other, he followed Yoongi through the hall of the hospital, mazing their way to the elevator.
When they got inside of the metallic cubicle, just the two of them, Jimin turned until he was sure he faced him. “Yoongi?”
“Yes?”
“Will you go with me?” Jimin suddenly asked with hope. “I want you to be the first one I see when I wake up.”
“Jimin, I don’t know, I-”
“Please? Do it for me? Please. It’s on a Saturday, I don’t want to spend that day without you. I know it probably makes you nervous. But I’m serious, I’m probably going to tell you you’re the most perfect human being ever when I see you, because I know you are.”
Yoongi was silent for a moment, a strange tension hanging in the air. “I’ll come.” There was the strangest hesitation, a distant feeling in his voice that Jimin questioned, but he quickly brushed it off. Just the fact Yoongi was going to be there made Jimin more than happy.
“Thank you.” He smiled as the elevator doors opened to the hospital lounge bustling with nurses and patients.
With all that set into place, there was only t-minus seven days until the operation.
Sightless :: 9
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word Count: 2,514
Pair: Yoongi x Jimin
Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)
“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.
Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.
But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”
A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.
YOONGI
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Just give me another minute.” He breathed heavily, clutching against the wall. “I’ve never gone this far before.”
“You’ve been standing there for an hour now. Don’t force yourself if you’re not ready.”
“No, I want to do this.”
Yoongi stood outside of the apartment as he watched Jimin stand at the doorway, shivering. Earlier this morning while Yoongi was making tea for them, Jimin suddenly spoke up and decided it was time for him to try to go outside. Yoongi almost spilled the hot water in response; he thought he would never hear him say such words on a Saturday.
The cold wind blew through the outdoor hall of the apartment complex, making Yoongi shudder through his thick layer of winter clothes. Earlier, when he first opened the door, Jimin screamed and hid in his bedroom, as Yoongi tried to console him, reminding him it was just the wind coming in. Thinking that Jimin had fallen entirely back to square one, Yoongi sighed of relief when he watched the boy eventually exit his room, approaching the front door.
Concentrating on him take a deep, shaky breath, Jimin moved so slowly, Yoongi thought he was watching a slow motion film. His foot landed just outside of the door, and then the other.
“You made it outside.” Yoongi grinned widely, the fluttery feeling of pride and excitement tickling inside of his stomach. Inch by inch, Jimin moved himself closer toward him. “I’m not going to get hurt, I’m not going to get hurt.” He repeated to himself and stopped just centimeters in front of him.
“Jimin you…you’re facing your fear. You’re standing outside of your apartment on a Saturday.” Tears dripped down Jimin’s cheeks as Yoongi lifted a hand, wiping them away with his thumb. “I’ve never been more proud of you.”
It took a lot of time, but Yoongi watched the timid young figure grow braver within each passing Saturday, willing to try, willing to face his fears. He couldn’t explain the feeling bubbling inside of him when he watched him take new steps, to push forward.
“Do you want to try moving a little further?”
Jimin quickly shook his head. “I want to stay here for a bit. I’ll only go this far.”
“You have all the time in the world.” He tightened the scarf around Jimin’s neck, making sure the cold air wouldn’t seep through the fabric and ruffled his pumpkin hair.
Yoongi stood beside him for what felt like forever until Jimin decided he was far too cold to stand outside and pulled Yoongi in with him.
“Um, Jimin, why are you taking me to the bathroom?” He asked as they entered the small cubicle, watching Jimin feel around for the sink with a smile.
“You’re helping me with my fears, so I’m helping you with yours.”
“What do you mean exactly?”
“Look in that mirror right there and name 5 things you love about yourself.” He pointed toward the mirror in front of them as Yoongi caught a quick glimpse of his own reflection before looking back at him.
“I don’t know Jimin…this isn’t-“
“Please just do this. For me? For yourself. I want to help you.”
With furrowed eyebrows, Yoongi moved his gaze back toward the mirror, the same pair of eyes staring right back at him. He looked away for a moment, disgusted by what he saw but glanced back again. His mint hair was frizzy and untamed from the humidity; the tip of his nose grew pink from the cold air. His eyes were so dark, they look like black beads and his natural expression seemed to always carry a frown.
“I love…the music I make.” He began, but his voice was flat and his expression didn’t change. There was no affection in the tone. “I love my mint hair. I love my shirt.”
He stopped at three, unable to find any more compliments for himself. Jimin leaned up and whispered a few sentences in his ear as Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I love how I became friends with this blind guy.” Yoongi said with sarcasm. “And finally, I love my sarcasm.”
Jimin broke into a laugh, satisfied with the results. “Very good, we’ll try adding one more compliment to it another day.” He pat Yoongi’s shoulder before walking out of the bathroom without a word. For a few more seconds, Yoongi observed his face in the mirror before turning around with an unsatisfied grunt.
----------
Many Saturdays passed. Seeing that the semester was starting to come to an end, Jimin took more and more steps away from his apartment. At one point, he even made it to the first floor, but as soon as walked out and accidentally bumped into a child, Jimin fell into a panic and hid in his room for the rest of the day. But after a short talk with Yoongi and spending the majority of the day convincing himself that he was okay, he found the courage to try it again and got as far as the sidewalk at the very end of the apartment complex.
He sat on the curb and pressed a hand on the cold pavement of the street. There were no cars for it was nearly 4 am, but Jimin wanted to learn that the street was harmless. The texture of the pavement reminded him of the moment he was dragged out of the car, lying against the street as a voice comforted him. But he didn’t feel scared at the thought. He felt thankful. That man had saved him.
Eventually, Yoongi took Jimin to campus and sat in the music room for an hour working on the project for their final. Yoongi could read Jimin’s expression, knowing that he was stressed being this far from the apartment, but he gave his hand a comforting squeeze, reminding him that they were safe.
Yoongi on the other hand, stood in a bathroom every day and added one more compliment to his existing list of things he loved about himself. One day, when he told his reflection that he loved how pathetic his face was, there was a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. From then, it got easier for him to stare into his own eyes.
But what Yoongi struggled to accept was that painfully mushy, weird feeling in his chest whenever he laid his eyes on Jimin. It grew worse every time they came face to face but he tried his absolute hardest to ignore it. There was no reason he needed to confront Jimin about it. There was no reason he needed to accept the cold, hard reality that he utterly and completely fell for him if Jimin wasn’t going to feel the same.
Right?
“Here’s your tea.” Yoongi set down the pen after busily scratching music notes on the lined paper, struggling to find inspiration for a composition, and collected the mug from Jimin. They were at it nearly the entire day; the music sheet was due tomorrow, ending the semester with their biggest final project yet.
Jimin sat closely beside him, almost too close to send Yoongi’s heart racing, but he never complained. “How much more do you need to write? We got about two minutes down, right?”
“We need to add three more minutes, this could take us all night. ” Yoongi groaned, massaging his temples, praying that his slowly growing headache would go away.
“Can’t we take a break?” Jimin whined. “I’ve been playing the piano for hours, my fingers are tired.” Yoongi watched as Jimin begged with a pouty face. He thanked himself that Jimin couldn’t see him frowning, turning his head away from him. After the phone call he received yesterday, he struggled to focus on the task at hand.
“Mom? Why are you calling?”
“Hello Yoongi, can’t your mother call just to check up on you?”
“There’s usually something you need from me. What do you want?” Yoongi replied bitterly, wanting her to get to the point. His relationship with his parents wasn’t exactly the strongest thing in the world. They fought and and disagreed on a lot of his personal choice and opinions on things growing up. He wanted to major in music, they argued that it was an unrealistic career and suggested that he’d get into a medical school instead because it was his father’s dream that he could never accomplish. Now he was stuck in a business room for hours a day with a suit and briefcase, filing papers and attending meetings. Yoongi promised himself that he’d leave for a university in Seoul as soon as he got accepted and pursue his dreams.
But it wasn’t as easy as he thought. His parents kicked him into a medical school for the past three years, but when Yoongi finally cracked from the stress, he ran away to Seoul, secretly applied to a different university and changed his major. He hadn’t spoken to his parents since then.
“You need to come back home.” His mother stated coldly. “Your father had fallen ill and cannot take care of the financial situation. We need you to come home and take over his job.”
His face grew pale. “You really think I’m just going to drop everything, my dreams and my future just to go back to Daegu and trap myself in his little business cubicle? Why can’t you just ask your favorite older son to do it for you? He still lives with you.”
“Your brother went off to the military last month, honey.”
“What? He went to the military and you didn’t bother to tell me?” Yoongi’s voice rose in anger.
“We tried calling you but you kept ignoring all of our calls. We had no choice but to send him off without you.” Yoongi didn’t reply, his mouth forming a thin line. “Anyway, you don’t have much of a choice Yoongi. I’ve already notified your university that you’ll be taking a break for a while. We need you back here in a month or I’m cutting off your sources. You know I have my connections. I’ll mail you the train tickets.”
“You did what ?” Now Yoongi was angry, very angry. The line went dead and Yoongi redialed the number, waiting for her to answer. Instead, it went straight to her voicemail. With an angry shout, Yoongi tossed the phone on the bed and paced across his bedroom.
She was going to cut off his money, make him lose his own place if he didn’t return. His mom even dropped him out of university. How the hell did she even find out where he went to?
Yoongi’s mother was a person he truly feared, if he had to pick anyone. She made connections with so many people, she knew how to control just about anyone and make them bow to their knees for her. Yoongi never spoke about about his family to Jimin, but it was best if he remained that way.
The less he thought about his family, the better off he was.
“We don’t really have the time to take a break, Jimin.”
“Come on, please? Let’s dance again! I missed dancing!” Jimin bolted up from the floor, grabbing Yoongi’s hands. “Put on a song, any song.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi gave in and took out his phone, putting it on shuffle. The battery was dying, he noticed, four percent. “Okay, we’re only doing it until the phone dies, and then it’s back to work.”
“Deal!” Jimin squealed as a pop song came on, dancing and stomping across living room in pure joy. “Come on Yoongi!” He held his arms out, waiting for the figure to approach him. With a laugh, Yoongi watched in admiration as he happily bounced across the living room before striding up to Jimin, breaking out into the most embarrassing dance he could think of. Thankfully, Jimin couldn’t see it, but he still laughed at him anyway. “I never knew you had it in you, Yoongi.”
“Oh you shut up.” Yoongi playfully scowled, growing out of breath from the sudden burst of energy he didn’t think he had. The song eventually ended, automatically playing the next one that happened to be a classical. As of on cue, Yoongi slung an arm around Jimin’s lower back, taking his hand with the other. Grinning, Yoongi smiled as he watch Jimin’s eyes turn into crescents and slowly swayed their bodies across the apartment, step by step.
Yoongi wanted to curse at himself. His hands were clammy and his heart was pounding. He was so close to Jimin, too close. But at the same time, he just wanted to stand there and hold him forever, his arms wrapped around him, his nose nuzzled into his pumpkin hair. Just having Jimin entirely to himself. Did that make him greedy?
“Thank you.” Jimin suddenly blurted.
“What for?”
“Everything.” He began. “For helping me get over my fears, for trying to understand me. You came over almost every day after the first Saturday you saw me and made sure I wasn’t lonely or never hurt myself although I know my way around the apartment like the back of my hand.” They took a few steps forwards, a few more backwards. Their bodies danced in sync as if they were one. “You’ve helped me improve faster in the past semester than the two whole years it took me to do it on my own. So, thank you, Min Yoongi.”
“Oh well, I was just…you’re welcome.” He didn’t know what else he could say, he was too engrossed in staring into his colorless eyes that never looked right into Yoongi’s. The song came to an abrupt end, assuming the phone must have died, but they stopped dancing long before that.
“Are you okay?” Yoongi asked, observing Jimin’s unusual gesture. He was dead silent, his face making the strangest expression that was neither fear nor confusion. His eyes grew big, his jaw clenched tightly. It seemed as if he was having an internal debate of some sort. Yoongi leaned closer, their noses inches away as he lightly shook his shoulder. “Jimin?”
There was no warning. Jimin quickly leaned forward, his eyes closed as he gently pressed his lips against Yoongi’s. He didn’t quite make it, as he got the corner of his mouth, but it was only for a short moment. Yoongi responded with widened eyes in surprise as Jimin bit his lip nervously, his ears growing red.
“Why are you so quiet?” Jimin asked nervously. “What are you thinking? Should I have not done that? I’m sorry. I don’t know what was thinking. I won’t do it again.”
“No, Jimin, I-“ He was abruptly cut off by the ringing of the phone in Jimin’s pocket.
“Sorry, I gotta get this.” He pulled it out and answered it with a light greeting. “Yes, this is Jimin.” He nodded into the phone for a few moments until his expression froze in shock, his face slowly turning pale. “What did you just say?”
Sightless :: 8
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word Count: 2,081
Pair: Yoongi x Jimin
Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)
“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.
Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.
But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”
A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.
JIMIN
He stood at the doorway, his hands cold and clammy. His forehead beaded with sweat and goose bumps cascaded down his arms. Yoongi stood in the hallway, just a foot or two in front of Jimin, patiently waiting.
Jimin stood at the door for probably a half an hour now, mentally debating whether he should take a step through or not. Maybe this was a bad idea; maybe he should have never listened to the voice of courage in the back of his head.
What if something were to happen if he left the room?
“Jimin, give me your hand.” He heard his voice, calmly suggesting. He held out his hand into the air and felt Yoongi’s fingers intertwine with his own. His hands were large and warm; the touch was like static, something that sent his pulse racing. But it wasn’t fear.
“Take one step forward. Just one small one.” Jimin took in a deep, shaky breath and very slightly inched himself forward. One single step.
“Good, you’re doing fantastic. Now move the other one. One step.” Yoongi nudged. “Nothing is going to happen, it’s just you and me in this apartment.”
It took him a few minutes, but Jimin took another single step on the cold, hardwood floor. And another step. And another. Each step he made, a chill ran up his spine but he took deep breaths, mentally reminding himself that he wasn’t alone. Jimin was confident Yoongi locked his door, nothing could hurt him.
After what felt like an eternity, Jimin began to lose count of how many steps he took. Taking such small, abnormal steps, he couldn’t figure out what his surroundings were, or where he was. Had he gone too far? Was the bedroom still right behind him? The unknown scared him.
“Jimin.”
“What? What is it? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” The questions flew out of his mouth.
“We’re in the kitchen.”
He could have sworn his beating heart had stopped for a millisecond, the color completely drained from his face. He stood so still, one hand still tightly grasping onto Yoongi’s.
“I’m okay?”
“You’re okay.”
“Oh my god.”
Jimin reached his free arm out until it made contact with the cold, granite surface of a kitchen counter. Guiding his fingers along it, he was able to identify exactly where he was. The oven was to his left and in front of him was the electric kettle and two mugs, including his favorite one, with several boxes of tea piled up in the corner. A single tear rolled down his cheek at first, and then a few more followed after.
He was so terrified. He could feel all his nerves tense up inside of him, the ball of fear in the pit of his stomach, the goose bumps still blanketed along his arms. It was Saturday after all.
But he was also relieved. So, so relieved.
A small smile broke through his serious façade. “You did it Jimin.” He gently ran a hand across his back, a small pat of accomplishment. “You got out of your room and nothing bad happened.”
“I did it.”
Yoongi turned on the kettle, shuffling through the boxes until he found the green tea Jimin always drank, preparing their mugs. Jimin stood closely by his side, listening to his every move. He refused to let go out of his hand, his safe zone.
Once the tea was ready, Yoongi led him slowly toward the living room, sitting on the couch beside him. Jimin held onto the mug tightly, taking a few sips before wincing, the hot water burning his tongue.
“Yoongi, you said you had a tattoo, what is it?”
“It’s just a butterfly on my shoulder, nothing too special.”
“What color is it?”
“It’s outlined in black with a little purple and blue filled in the gaps.”
“It sounds pretty.” Jimin smiled, picturing the visual of a butterfly. He had a faint memory of what the general shape looked like, but there were so many designs found on a butterfly, he couldn’t even remember the most generic visual. “Why a butterfly?”
“I wrote a song called Butterfly back in the day for the piano, it was the closest I could get to expressing my inner thoughts.”
“Can you play it for me?” He suddenly asked.
“Will you be okay? I’d have to let go.”
“I’m okay, just don’t go anywhere else.”
“Of course.” Jimin’s hand grew cold as Yoongi untwined his fingers while he moved toward the piano. It was silent for a minute or two until Jimin began to worry that Yoongi actually left the room. But he could still hear his soft breath and a small tone came. Eventually, multiple keys were pressed and music was being played.
At one point, he heard a voice sing along, none other than Min Yoongi himself. Jimin didn’t even know he could sing. It wasn’t the best singing voice, his notes were short and simple, almost like a rap, but Jimin was pleased either way.
Holding tightly onto the hot cup of tea, Jimin sat close to the piano, his eyes closed as he carefully listened to the lyrics that blended well into the music.
Never had Jimin felt so content on a Saturday.
Never had Jimin felt so safe.
----------
It had been two weeks since the phone call from the doctor. The past two Saturdays, Jimin was able to comfortably sit in the living room or wander around the kitchen, but not without holding onto Yoongi for dear life. Yoongi suggested that he started opening the windows and listen to the outdoor life. It wasn’t easy, but Jimin eventually obliged to it and sat by a window for hours, listening to birds greeting the day.
He was slowly starting to understand that nothing was going to happen, that it was all just a part of his PTSD. But going outside and facing the real world was a whole other story.
The fact that Jimin found a donor for his eyes was what kept his hopes high, something for him to think about when he was felt scared. Something for him to look forward to. At least until he received the second phone call.
--
Everything Jimin touched, he shoved it off the surface or threw it against the wall with a shatter following after. A scream of anger erupted from his throat, hot tears brimming his eyes.
“Park Jimin?”
“Yes?”
“This is Doctor Oh. I’m calling about your eye donor that we discussed a couple of weeks ago. I talked to the family of the deceased man and tried to obtain their permission to use the corneas. I tried everything I could, but unfortunately the wife strictly declined the offer. We’ll keep searching for a donor for you, but as of now, it’s not going to be possible. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Park.”
The phone dropped out of Jimin’s hand and clattered on the floor with an echo. He could hear the doctor asking if he was still there, calling out his name. It didn't matter to him. Jimin wouldn’t be able to see.
He saved so much money for this moment from all the jobs he attempted over the past two years, he counted every second of every day until he would hear of a positive donor. Now it was impossible.
When Jimin stubbed his toe against the coffee table and fell across the wooden floor, his emotions were completely set off. The mixture of anger and pain coursed through him as he pulled himself up from the ground. Jimin was so tired of being in the darkness. He was sick of running into objects when he lost focus or missed a step walking somewhere. He wanted to see colors again. He wanted to laugh at the dumb videos his friends would watch during lunch. He wanted to see his all of his friend’s faces again and the mysterious face of Min Yoongi that was pictured as a shadow in his mind.
Jimin grabbed the single picture that hung in his apartment of a dancing figure and tossed it to the ground, shards of glass spreading across it. His prized possession destroyed.
“Jimin, just out of curiosity, you only have one picture in your entire apartment. How come it’s just this one?” Yoongi one day asked while they were busily working on their piano lab. The deadline for the composition was coming up soon.
“Oh, the picture on that wall?” Jimin pointed. “That’s a picture of me when I used to dance, before the accident. It was the last show I’ve ever done, actually. The night of the crash, I was leaving the practice room because I had the biggest show of my life the next day. It was my one opportunity to have a future in dancing with the sponsors attending.
“Why don’t you dance anymore? You’re so familiar with your space, couldn’t you just relearn the dance room?”
“I tried, but I gave up eventually and switched to the piano, something more easier for me.”
“You don’t seem like the type to give up easily.” Yoongi scoffed and grabbed Jimin’s arm, pulling him off the ground toward the living room.
“Yoongi? What are you doing?” Jimin heard a light, classical music playing in the background. An arm wrapped around his waist and another took his hand.
“Dance with me.”
Jimin began laughing. “Yoongi, this isn’t exactly the kind of dance I was talking about.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just dance with me.” He could have sworn Yoongi was smirking at him; their bodies began swaying across the living room. One step, two step. Their faces were so close; he could feel him breathing softly, his own cheeks heating up.
Yoongi twirled him, guiding their dance that flowed like water. When the music came to an end, they both just stood in silence, their breaths heavy for it was a long song. He could feel Yoongi’s eyes staring right into his. What did he look like? How dark were his eyes? Did they have little gold flecks in them when the sun hit it?
The stillness between the two was so unsettling, but so intimate. Their noses were almost touching and his heart was pounding. What was Yoongi thinking at this moment? Jimin wondered. Could he hear his own heart beat being this close
Then out of nowhere, Jimin’s eyes turned into crescents as he burst out in giggles.
A piece of glass sliced his finger as he picked up the picture frame to snap it in half. The piercing of the glass caused his mind to flash back to the accident. The bright headlights taking over his dark vision, the sounds of honking filled the silence.
With a scream, he tossed the picture aside and trumped across the floor into the kitchen, the smaller shards of glass penetrating into the skin of his feet. He trashed the kitchen counters, tossing everything to the side, breaking anything he came into contact with.
A faint knock from the door was heard in the kitchen as Jimin froze in surprise. “Go away!” He shouted as hot tears dripped down his cheeks.
The door opened anyhow and he made out, as he threw the electric kettle against a wall, a small gasp coming from the other room. It was safe to assume his apartment was probably trashed, destroyed from his rage.
“What the hell happened? What is all this blood on the ground?” Yoongi exclaimed as he dropped whatever object he was holding and rushed toward Jimin, grabbing his shoulders. Jimin thrashed his arms and roughly pushed him away. “Go home! I don’t want you here!” He screamed, running his hands through his hair, the blood from the forgotten cut on his hand likely stained his pumpkin hair.
“What happened today? Was it the song again?” Yoongi stepped forward, unwilling to give up so easily. His voice sounded so worried, so broken.
“I hate being blind! I hate not being able to see anything.” Jimin whimpered. “I keep running into things, and I keep getting lost! I want to dance again. I want to see your face! I want to get out of this darkness!”
“But you will, the doctor found you a donor, it won’t be much longer now.”
“No!” His head shook back and forth. “It’s not happening. His family won't let him donate his corneas.”
Arms suddenly wrapped tightly around him, Yoongi’s nose buried into his hair. “I’m so sorry.” He muttered under his breath. “You’ll find someone though, you just need to be patient. But until then, you need to keep yourself together, okay?”
It took Jimin a moment before he nodded, his anger slowly subsiding.
“But for now, we need to treat your feet. You’re getting blood all over the floor. Where do you keep the first aid?”
Jimin explained where the box was as Yoongi carried him to the couch, demanding that he doesn’t move an inch while he collected the first aid. He returned, pulling Jimin’s feet up to rest against the coffee table.
“God this is bad, you got glass everywhere.” Jimin winced as he felt the small shards being pulled out. At one point, he tugged his foot away, but Yoongi sternly held onto it and continued until they were all out. He carefully dabbed it with rubbing alcohol, cleaning up the blood.
Wincing multiple times, Jimin wanted to force it out of his grasp but Yoongi’s grip only tightened. He wrapped them with bandages before treating the cut on his hand.
When Yoongi finished, he sat quietly, running his fingers along the rough texture of the bandage. Was Yoongi mad at Jimin? He barely said anything during the treatment. Nervously biting his lip, Jimin leaned forward, giving him a questionable expression.
“You promised you would call if anything happened. Why didn’t you?” He spoke up with a voice so calm and stern, it almost scared him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was thinking. I was so angry, I…” His voice trailed off. “I wanted to see again.”
“You will, Jimin. You will.” But would he?
Sightless :: 6
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word Count: 2, 787
Pair: Yoongi x Jimin
Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)
“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.
Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.
But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”
A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.
JIMIN
“I’m sorry.” He finally spoke up.
“About what?”
“That you had to see me like that.”
He heard Yoongi set the book down on his chest, glancing up at Jimin, his head resting comfortably on his lap. “Jimin, you shouldn’t have to apologize for something you have no control over. There are people out there in far worse condition than you over something else. You’ll be able to go outside on a Saturday one day. It won’t be quick and easy, but it’s not impossible.”
Jimin smiled at his words, his eyes turning into crescents. He ran his fingers through Yoongi’s hair and his eyebrows slightly furrowed together, his lips turning into a pout.
“Yoongi, your hair is really dry today.”
“I know.” He picked up the book and continued reading.
“It feels like you dyed it.”
“Yeah.”
“What did you do to it? You didn’t actually listen to my advice and go dye it mint, did you?” Jimin joked.
He didn’t reply.
Jimin’s eyes widened as he covered his mouth, struggling to hold in his muffled laughter. He felt the dry hair, confirming that it was quite true. “You actually dyed your hair mint? I was just joking!” He took a deep breath, failing to suppress his laugh. “I was actually joking when I made the suggestion!” Tears of laughter pooled in his eyes, struggling to catch his breath.
Yoongi lifted his head from his lap and scooted onto other side of the couch, creating a large space between the two. “Yoongi-no, come back.” He said in between his giggles, feeling around the couch until he came in contact with the loose sleeve of Yoongi’s sweater, tugging on it. “You look great with mint hair, Yoongi, don’t worry about it.”
“How would you know?” Jimin heard a sarcastic scoff. “You’re blind.”
“I’m always right Mint Yoongi, I mean-Min Yoongi.”
“Okay, I’ve had enough of your sass for one day, Park Jimin.” Yoongi stood up from the couch as he heard rustling come from him.
“Where are you going?” Jimin’s smile faded into a frown as Yoongi suddenly went silent, unable to make out the current situation until he felt a hand grab his wrist.
“Come on, get your shoes on, we’re going out.” Yoongi said so suddenly as he pulled Jimin off the couch, throwing a jacket at him. He slipped on the warm coat, trailed his way to the door without guidance and gathered his things together. His arms extended to a small table beside the front door, reaching for his glasses.
Yoongi approached the doorway where Jimin stood, slipping on the dark glasses and getting his white cane ready. He waited as Yoongi tied on his shoes and opened the front door, the cold wind blasting into the warm apartment.
They exited the building, heading in the opposite direction of campus toward the city where sounds of chatter filled the air. “Where are we going?” Jimin asked, but Yoongi just shrugged.
“I don’t know, this was a bit of a spontaneous moment. What sounds good?”
“Let’s get some barbeque.” He grinned as Yoongi agreed.
“I know just the place.”
Walking through the city, Jimin could smell the food seeping out of restaurants, the strong fragrance of perfumes outside of makeup stores. He heard voices shouting for people to try samples, announcing their current sale prices. Jimin could hear couples passing them, quietly muttering about their day or how much they loved each other.
Love.
Would Jimin ever find love?
“I pity him, he can’t find his way around here.”
Someone to walk beside him every day?
“I hear he lives by himself and doesn’t have anyone.”
Someone whose voice he could wake up to in the mornings?
“Shouldn’t someone go help the poor kid?”
A warm figure next to him all day long?
“What happened to him? His eyes look funny!”
“Honey you shouldn’t point at strangers.”
“Jimin where are you going?” Yoongi’s voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, stopping in his tracks. He spun around for the direction of the sound, his head twisting in panic. Where did he go? How far was Yoongi? Did he leave him?
He felt a hand take his, pulling him in the opposite direction. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to let you get lost.” A low chuckle came from Yoongi as he guided Jimin toward the entrance. “We’re here now, be careful, we’re going downstairs.”
Jimin followed him down, the smell of sizzling meat and spices lingered in the air as they entered, making his mouth water. Yoongi led him to a table in a corner, seating him down and read the menu out loud for Jimin to decide on a dish. All the options sounded so pricey, why did he take him here of all places?
“Yoongi, are you sure it’s okay to come here? These dishes sound more expensive than my own rent.”
“Just pick what sounds good to you. It’s okay to get out of the house once in awhile and treat yourself. Except today it’s on me.”
Jimin’s expression changed into a pout, deciding whether he should go against Yoongi’s offer or not. But then again, the Jeju black pork did sound quite delicious. Jimin eventually decided on the pork as they made their order, hearing the clicking of the gas turn on in front of him. He could smell the flame of their barbeque as it warmed up the small corner.
“You don’t go out often, do you? I overheard your friends complaining about you always skipping their guys night.” Yoongi eventually broke the comforting silence that stood between them.
“Not in a few months, no. I’ve been busy with my studies.” Jimin’s hand searched for the cup of water on the table and took a sip before he set on his left, where he always left it.
“Well the holiday break is coming up soon, you should go see them.”
“Come with me.” Jimin smiled. “They’re starting to like you, despite your horrible looks.”
Yoongi went quiet for awhile, it almost felt unsettling. Did Jimin say something wrong? He opened his mouth to apologize, but then Yoongi spoke again. “Okay fine, I’ll come. But if Tae pulls anything weird I’m leaving. He looks at me like he’s ready to square up at any given moment.” Jimin could hear him shudder before he began laughing.
“That’s just Taehyung being Taehyung, he has to grow onto you. He’s not exactly the brightest kid around here, but he’s the protective one.” Before Jimin could continue, he heard the waiter arrive, multiple plates clinking against the table. A loud sizzle and a mouthwatering aroma filled up their space when the meat made contact with the flames. Licking his lips, Jimin could only imagine what the meat possibly tasted like.
After a long, painful wait, Yoongi told Jimin to open his mouth as he felt a piece of meat being shoved in. It was painfully hot, but the taste was so heavenly. He needed to put some seasoning on it with a spoonful of rice and it would have been perfection.
“I put some on your rice, they’re hot off the barbeque so be careful.”
Jimin picked up his spoon and scooped a heaping of rice with two small chunks of pork on it, shoving it all into his mouth. He continued eating, unable to find the energy to speak. The food was far too good for that.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever had.” Jimin muttered through a mouthful of rice as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. His fingers reached for the water and chugged it, setting down the empty cup with a loud clack.
“Would you hate me if I asked for another set?”
“You’re just trying to drain my wallet aren’t you? We’ll come here again. If you have too much in one sitting you’ll get sick. I’m not letting you miss a piano class, partner. ”
Jimin’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he ate another piece of meat. Before it entered his mouth, Jimin’s entire body froze. Everything in his mind went hazy. The song in the restaurant changed to a very familiar tune he heard so many times in the past. It was the same song Yoongi played during his first day of piano class.
“Oh, do you hear that? My favorite song just came on.”
It was the song.
Lights flashed in his mind, glass shattered everywhere.
The same damn classical song that played in the taxi.
Jimin dropped his chopsticks onto the table with a clatter and shot up from the seat, searching for his cane.
“Jimin, what’s wrong? What is it?” He heard Yoongi ask with worry, but he couldn’t register it. The music was too overbearing, painfully beating in his ears. He needed to get out of there.
“I’m sorry, I gotta go.” Jimin tried to maneuver his way through the restaurant, but he was far too dizzy, far too disoriented. He jammed his hip into a table beside him, hearing a bottle fall and shatter on the floor along with a plate or two. He couldn’t quite figure out exactly how many.
A person from the table slammed his hands on the surface and stood closely in front of Jimin, yelling and cursing while a panicked female voice tried to calm him down. Beads of sweat formed across his temple as his breathing grew heavy. Jimin apologized multiple times to the angry man, but it probably came out as an incoherent garble.
“You blind brat, you almost injured my girlfriend. Teach yourself to watch where you’re going!” The song was making his words fade away.
“You’re always in the way.”
“You’re never going to find your way around.”
Yoongi began shouting from behind, rushing over to stand in front of Jimin, facing the yelling figure. He couldn’t make out the words Yoongi said, the music instead drumming in his ears. Jimin clenched his cane, his chest heaving as he forced himself to stand, his knees growing weak. The headlights were too bright in his vision, he felt the ghost of the pain throbbing in his skin.
“Yoongi.” Jimin whispered quietly, feeling bile creep up his throat. “Yoongi, let’s just go.” His voice shook.
In a split second, a painful smack silenced the restaurant until one of the waiters demanded them to leave the place. An arm pulled Jimin up the stairs and out into the cold air that bit against his skin in contrast to the warm building.
They walked quickly for a few minutes until it was quiet and he felt himself being seated on a bench. “Jimin, take a deep breath, breathe slowly.”
The song was long gone; all he heard were the faint sounds of chattering and the wind blowing through trees around them. Jimin took in a deep inhale of the cold air, his panic washing away. His pulse began to slow, but his hands reached out in the air, searching for that warm, comforting presence. “Yoongi? Yoongi, where are you?”
The figure knelt down in front of him as his hands made contact with his broad shoulders. Jimin moved them up against his ears, moving them across his cheeks. The familiar facial structure and soft skin confirmed it was indeed Yoongi.
When his hand skimmed across his eyes, a tight knot grew in his stomach. A small hiss came from Yoongi when he felt that one eye was more swollen than the other and something warm and sticky dripped beside it.
“Yoongi, did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine, honestly.” Yoongi lowered Jimin’s hands away from his face.
“No, no we need to go get it treated.”
“Jimin, what happened back there? Did something set you off?” His voice was so calming, so gentle.
“The song. The same song you played.” Jimin shivered from the cold air, but his hands were enveloped in Yoongi’s warm ones. “The taxi I was in played the same exact song before the truck hit us.”
Yoongi was still a few seconds before he took in a deep breath. “Jimin listen to me. If anything like that were to happen when you’re out somewhere on your own, you must call me. Got it? Don’t move from your spot and don’t go anywhere. Call me right away, okay? I don’t live far, I’ll come right over.”
Jimin bit his lips, his usual habit. How did he find someone so caring, so gentle like Yoongi? His friends meant the world to him, but Jimin never allowed any of them to help him with anything. He couldn’t ever burden them with his struggles.
Hearing Yoongi’s kind words made his chest tighten, his stomach grow queasy. But it wasn’t sickness, nor the reaction from earlier. No, Jimin didn’t know what it was. He never felt anything like it before.
“Jimin, did you hear me?” The grip on his hands tightened, collecting Jimin out of his thoughts.
“I heard you…I’ll do it. Don’t worry.”
“Promise?” Yoongi wrapped his pinky around Jimin’s.
“I promise. Can we please go treat your cut? I don’t want you lying to me, telling me it’s fine when clearly, it’s not.”
“Okay.” Yoongi sighed in defeat. “Let’s go.”
----------
As soon as Jimin stepped into his apartment from a long day of class, the phone went off in his back pocket. Usually around this time, it would be Yoongi calling him to make sure he got home safe, or Hobi asking Jimin if he could mooch off of his homework because he was too lazy to do it himself.
“Hello?” He put the phone up against his ear, waiting for a response.
“Park Jimin?” A deep, yet professional voice greeted from the other line.
“This is him.” Jimin slid off his shoes and set down the white cane, entering the warm living room.
“This is Doctor Oh from the Seoul Hospital. I wanted to confirm that you have been on a waitlist for a cornea transplant for quite some time now, right?”
“Yes sir, I have.” Jimin replied quickly.
“It seems that we have found you a matching donor.” Jimin’s eyebrows rose as his mouth dropped open in surprise, almost tripping over the coffee table. “A man who just recently passed has corneas that are very possible to retrieve your eyesight again. He doesn’t however, have a donor card, so we will be asking his family to earn their permission. The results are looking positive for you though, Park Jimin.”
He didn’t know how to reply to such news. The thought of being able to see again. He could dance again. He could see his friends, his family, all sorts of colors. Yoongi, he could see Yoongi.
A ball of nerves and excitement grew in his stomach. “Thank you so much sir! I-I don’t even know what to say!”
“I’ll give you a call in the next week or so to further discuss our plans. Have a good day Mr. Park.”
“Thank you!” Jimin lost count of how many times he thanked the doctor over and over before hanging up. His mouth grew into a wide smile as he searched for another number on the phone, putting it back up against his ear. The line rang.
“Hello?” A groggy voice answered.
“Yoongi!” Jimin nearly shouted.
“What? Are you okay? Why are you yelling?” His voice grew worried.
“Yoongi! The doctor called me. They…they found a transplant for me!” He bit his lip in excitement, holding back his shouts of joy as he heard an audible gasp from the other line.
“Jimin, that’s so…that’s so amazing! You’re going to be able to see again! I’m so…we need to celebrate. Have you told the others yet?”
“No, I wanted you to be the first to know.” Jimin grinned. He heard shuffling and quick breaths through the phone. “Yoongi, what are you doing?”
“I’m just moving around. Look, you should call and tell the others about the news. We need to go out and get a drink or two, all of us.”
“Yoongi…” His smile slowly faded. “Tomorrows Saturday. You know I don’t like going out on Friday nights.”
“We’ll get you out and back there before midnight, I promise you. This is mandatory.” His voice sounded out of breath.
“Yoongi, what are you-“
“Just call your friends.” The line went dead and Jimin moved the phone away from his ear in confusion before he heard a quick knock on the door.
Approaching it, he opened it with a concerned expression until he heard a person in front of him breathing heavily and dare he say he could feel a huge grin radiating from them. “I told you I didn’t live far.” Yoongi chuckled in between his breaths.
