Stuck With You || Kim Taehyung

Part 63

Ryujin stirred with a sharp hiss, her lashes fluttering open against the blinding white of the operating theater. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled her nose, and the harsh glow of surgical lamps bore down on her. Her gaze darted around frantically — masked doctors in green scrubs, trays of gleaming instruments, a nurse adjusting an IV.

Her heart raced. Her throat closed.

"What—what are you doing?!" she screamed, voice breaking as she pushed at the air. "Stay away from me! Don't touch me! What is this—what are you doing?!"

The head surgeon stepped forward, his tone urgent yet calm. "Miss Ryujin, listen to me. Your baby... there's no heartbeat. The fetus has died inside the womb. We need to operate immediately, or it will put your life in danger."

Ryujin's world stopped. Then shattered.

"No! No, no, no!" Her shrieks bounced off the sterile walls, raw and jagged. Tears flooded her eyes, spilling down her temples as she thrashed weakly against the straps holding her steady. "You're lying! You're lying to me!"

"Please calm down, Miss—"

"Get away from me!" she screamed again, her voice hoarse, her chest heaving violently.

The door swung open. Heavy footsteps rushed inside.

"Ryujin."

Her head jerked toward the voice, and through her haze of panic, she saw him — Jimin. His eyes were red, rimmed with veins, jaw set so tightly it trembled.

"J-Jimin!" she sobbed, relief and rage twisting together. "They're lying! They want to take my baby! Stop them! Please, stop them!"

Jimin moved closer, guided by a nurse who immediately stepped back at his presence. He leaned down, his voice low but firm, every word cutting through her hysteria.

"Ryujin. Stop."

Her face crumpled, her nails clawing at the sheet beneath her. "She killed my baby," she screamed, her voice cracking like shattered glass. "Y/N—she killed our baby! She pushed me—"

"Enough!" Jimin's roar silenced the room. His chest heaved as he stared at her with eyes burning in fury and grief. "Stop blaming her. You killed our baby, Ryujin. You." His voice broke at the last word, but his tone stayed razor-sharp. "Now let the doctors do their job, or I swear you won't make it out alive either."

The words struck like thunder. Ryujin froze, her tears still spilling, but her body went limp, lips trembling soundlessly. For the first time, she had nothing left to scream.

"Do it," Jimin said hoarsely, turning to the doctors. "Start the operation."

The surgeon gave a quick nod. The nurse stepped forward with the syringe, sliding the anesthesia into Ryujin's vein. Her eyes fluttered, her breathing slowed, and her body surrendered to the forced sleep — silent at last.

Jimin's gaze lingered on her slack face for only a second. Then he turned sharply, his shoes echoing as he walked out of the theater before the nurse could even guide him. His shoulders were stiff, his hands clenched into fists, his soul bleeding behind his eyes.

On the other side of the hospital, Taehyung sat outside the ER like a man on the edge of breaking. His leg bounced relentlessly, fingers tearing at the hem of his sleeve, eyes locked on the double doors as if he could will them open. Every second felt like a blade slicing through his chest.

Thirty minutes. Forty. Time was a cruel joke.

Finally, the doctor emerged. Taehyung leapt to his feet so quickly the chair toppled behind him.

"She's fine," the doctor assured, his tone steady. "It was only external shock to the abdomen. No internal bleeding. The babies are fine too. But she needs complete bed rest from now on. No exertion whatsoever."

For the first time in what felt like hours, Taehyung exhaled. His body sagged against the wall, his vision blurring with relief. He swallowed hard, whispering, "Thank you... thank you, doctor."

"She's unconscious from the shock. Once she stabilizes in fifteen minutes, we'll shift her to the VVIP ward. You can see her then."

Taehyung nodded, his lips pressed tight, his eyes wet but fierce with determination. "I'll be there."

Fifteen minutes later, Y/N was settled in the quiet of the VVIP ward, her figure pale against the soft sheets. After sitting by her side, holding her hand, and pressing a kiss against her knuckles, Taehyung finally stepped out to breathe.

The hospital garden was quiet, drenched in moonlight. And there, on a bench, sat Jimin. A cigarette dangled between his fingers, smoke curling lazily into the night. His expression was blank, but his red eyes betrayed everything.

Taehyung stopped, staring at him for a moment. Then, under his breath, he muttered, "Knew it." His feet carried him forward until he sat down beside him, their silence thick, almost suffocating.

Neither man spoke. Minutes passed. Only the soft crackle of burning tobacco filled the air.

At last, Jimin held out the cigarette box toward him. "Dunhill. Your favorite. Take one."

Taehyung's lips curved faintly, but his voice was low and husky when he shook his head. "No."

Jimin raised a brow. "Since when do you say no to this?"

"Since Y/N," Taehyung murmured. His gaze lifted toward the sky. "She doesn't like it. So I quit."

Jimin exhaled smoke, studying him for a beat. "You've changed."

Taehyung didn't reply. The silence returned, heavier this time. Then, softly, he asked, "Ryujin... is she alright?"

Jimin's jaw tightened. His knuckles whitened around the cigarette. "No." His voice cracked just slightly, before hardening again. "The baby's gone. They... they had to operate."

Taehyung's breath hitched. He couldn't form words for a long moment, the weight of that loss pressing into his chest. Finally, he lifted a hand, resting it briefly on Jimin's shoulder, giving it a firm, steady pat. It was all he could offer.

"And Y/N?" Jimin asked after a long pause, his voice low, almost reluctant.

Taehyung straightened, his eyes softening with both pain and relief. "She's stable. The babies are safe. But she needs complete rest."

For the first time that night, Jimin's eyes flickered — something between envy, regret, and exhaustion swirling deep in his gaze. He only nodded, turning his face away into the smoke.

The two men sat there in silence again, side by side under the moonlight — broken in different ways, bound by women who had changed their lives, and by the invisible weight of everything that had just been lost and barely saved.