ELINOR: BTS SHIPS ONESHOTS Series. [CLOSED]

26- Forced to Love you [VminKook/mafia/forced/angst]

Jimin's hand twitched. His eyes started moving around under swollen lids and he took his first raspy breath that he'd taken in 2 days.

The monitor started giving feeble beeps and a commotion could be heard in the background, unheard of him.

5 minutes later the monitor speeds up and Jimin is taking regular, shaky breaths of oxygen.

He feels like he's on a cloud for a moments but suddenly it all starts hurting.

His throat feels like it's charred. Everytime he takes a breath it's unbelievable pain but he couldn't stop.

In fact at this rate he was gasping in greedy breaths every mili-second. His eyes were still closed and he still wasn't aware of his being.

Another ten minutes later he can hear faint whispers surrounding him. Those faint whispers soon turn into loud sobs and pleadings and mutters.

And he can make out the one and only word they were saying, chanting it over and over again, like a matra;

Jimin.

Oh yeah, he's Jimin.

Park Jimin.

Scattered memories aranged themselves into place inside of his post-dead brain and his eyes shot open, at last.

His eyes shot open yes, but he immediately regretted it as soon as blinding white lights pounced on his retina.

-----------

20 minutes later he's propped up with soft pillows, blowing softly on the hot food he had been given immediately after taking sips of much needed water.

He finally made sense of everything yet he wished he hadn't.

The reason he was in hospital was his own fault.

Was he this stupid?? He couldn't even kill himself properly and now..

This is where he landed.

He blinked repeatedly down at the bowl of steaming chicken soup on his blanket-covered lap.

The foreign sting of tears in his eyes scared him. He couldn't cry now.

He couldn't.

But why shouldn't he?? Ah well, it didn't matter anyway because droplets of the salty liquid were already falling onto the metal spoon that he was clutching in his trembling hands.

"Jimin?"

He flinched. The bowl shook in his unsteady hands and he hissed, his sense of pain to outside objects awakening as a small bit of the burning liquid sloshed onto his fragile hands.

But he didn't pay attention to that. What he was staring at with wide eyes was a person in one of the memories.

Someone he so desperately wanted to forget.