Husfriends ~𝓨𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓶𝓲𝓷

Chapter 30, yoongi

Chapter 30
Yoongi

It had been one week and two days since Jimin fell into the coma.

Seven endless nights of watching the clock tick by in silence.
Seven mornings of waking up on the living room sofa, my back aching and my heart heavier than ever.

The house still didn't feel like home-it felt like a graveyard of memories, filled with Jimin's laughter that no longer echoed and his warmth that no longer lingered.

I tried to survive, somehow.

At least once a day, I forced myself to eat-though it was never a real meal. Just a cup of coffee, sometimes bitter because I forgot the sugar, and a piece of bread or croissant. That was it. I didn't want food. My body didn't crave it. But I knew if I got sick, I wouldn't even be allowed to sit by Jimin's side in the hospital. And the thought of being kept away from him... that alone made me force down a few bites.

My life outside Jimin... felt like nothing.

But life didn't pause, not even when mine had shattered.

Final exams were drawing closer. Attendance was required, so after a week of skipping, I dragged myself back to university. Sitting in class felt like torture. I would stare at the board, at the professor's moving lips, but none of it reached me. My mind would wander back to that hospital room-back to Jimin's pale face, his still body, the cruel rhythm of the machines breathing for him.

And every time I saw couples laughing in the corridors, holding hands, walking side by side... something inside me cracked a little more. That should have been me and him. We should have been arguing about exams, teasing each other over who studied harder, sharing snacks between lectures. Instead, I was here-while he lay silent, fighting in a world I couldn't reach.

The only small relief was that Jimin wasn't in my class. He was a year younger, in second year. If he had been in the same room, if I had seen his empty chair every single day, I don't think I would've survived it. Still, the thought of him missing his classes, his smile absent from the hallways, it hurt just the same.

My office life had slipped away too. I was supposed to be working on a major project, but after Jimin collapsed, I couldn't handle it anymore. I handed everything to my father. He took over, running the office and the project, while I... barely managed to keep my head above water at university. My father never said a word of complaint. He only looked at me with quiet worry in his eyes, as if he knew I was crumbling but couldn't stop me from falling apart.

Every night, after classes, I went straight to the hospital. I would sit there until the visiting hours ended, watching Jimin, talking to him even if he couldn't hear. Whispering things like, "Baby, I'm here... wake up soon. You promised we'd graduate together, remember?" Or sometimes just sitting in silence, holding his hand, pressing soft kisses against his knuckles as if my love could somehow reach him through the silence.

That was my life now.

Eat just enough to survive.
Go to class, because attendance forced me to.
Pretend I was listening, while my heart stayed behind in that sterile hospital room.
Then run back to him, only to start all over again the next day.

One week and two days. That's how long it had been. But to me, it felt like years. Years of waiting. Years of silence. Years of missing him.