Uɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ Lᴏᴠᴇ || ❀ TH×JM ❀

Pᴀʀᴛ- 36

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Upon reaching the hospital, Jimin hurried down the broad hallway, his footsteps echoing sharply against the cold, sterile tiles. His shoulders were hunched, his head dipped slightly as though the weight of his thoughts was too much to bear. Each hurried step made his temples throb harder, the dull ache intensifying as unwelcome memories clawed their way to the surface. It felt as though his mind was a storm, every thought a lightning strike that seared his already fragile composure.

"Jimin, slow down," Taehyung called out, his voice carrying both concern and frustration. He was a few paces behind, his long legs moving quickly to catch up. The sharpness in his tone was softened by the sound of his breath, slightly uneven from trying to keep up with Jimin's relentless pace.

Jimin barely registered his brother's words, his focus singular and unyielding. His chest heaved with shallow breaths, more from the weight of his emotions than the physical exertion.

When Taehyung finally reached him, he caught Jimin by the wrist, his grip firm but not forceful. "Wait for me, too... goddamn," he muttered, his pout visible even as his brows furrowed in concern. His words carried a note of teasing, but his eyes betrayed the worry he tried to mask.

Jimin stopped abruptly, his wrist going slack in Taehyung's grip. He offered a brief nod, but his gaze remained fixed on some invisible point ahead. Words failed him, caught somewhere in the tangle of emotions that churned in his chest.

Together, they approached the counter, the hum of hospital activity buzzing faintly around them. The sharp scent of disinfectant lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee from a vending machine nearby. Taehyung, sensing Jimin's silence would persist, stepped forward to handle the formalities. He leaned slightly over the counter, his tone calm yet firm as he collected their bounty tokens.

With the tokens in hand, they made their way toward room number 616, the sound of their footsteps merging with the rhythmic beeping of distant monitors. As they reached the room, Taehyung approached the compounder stationed at the door. His stance was casual, but his tone carried a quiet urgency.

"How long will it take?" he asked, his voice low enough that only the compounder could hear.

The man glanced at his clipboard, flipping through pages with practiced ease. "Just five minutes," he replied, his tone clipped and impersonal.

Taehyung nodded, offering a polite thanks before turning back to Jimin. He sat down beside his brother, the chair creaking faintly under his weight. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a water bottle and extended it toward Jimin, who took it without looking up.

"Thanks," Jimin murmured, his voice barely audible. He unscrewed the cap and took a few sips, the cool water sliding down his throat, soothing but not erasing the dull ache in his head. He held the bottle loosely in his hands afterward, his eyes fixed on the floor as though it held answers to questions he couldn't articulate.

To their right, a couple sat close together. The woman, her hands tightly clasped in her lap, occasionally whispered something to the man beside her. The worry etched into her features softened slightly as her gaze shifted to Jimin. She offered him a small, encouraging smile, her eyes kind despite the tension lingering in her posture.

"Pregnant?" she asked gently, her voice warm and friendly.

Jimin froze mid-breath, his fingers tightening around the water bottle. His lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Finally, he forced the words out, his tone shaky and hesitant. "Y-yeah," he stammered, his voice betraying the vulnerability he was trying so hard to suppress.