flowers and ink » yoonmin

twenty five.

Jimin knew he should've brought Yoongi with him when he decided to run errands that night.

He was grocery shopping when his phone rang, showing him a call from an unknown number.

"H-hello?" Jimin answered tentatively, ready to hang up if it was some creepy pedophile.

"Is this Park Jimin?" A cool female voice answered, tone stiff and professional.

"Y-yes, why? Who's calling?" Jimin asked, feeling vaguely worried and unsettled. He gripped the handle of the cart with his free hand.

"This is the hospital," the woman answered. "We're calling on behalf of Min Yoongi-"

"What happened?" Jimin all but shouted, the pigmentation of his knuckles bleaching as he gripped the cart's handle.

"Yoongi had an accident, and he's recovering now. He asked for us to contact you," the woman answered. Jimin wanted to scream at her; demand how she could sound so unruffled as she gave him the infuriatingly vague explanation.

"What happened?" Jimin demanded, for the second time. The woman gave a barely audible sigh that made Jimin's blood boil. He deserved to know; Yoongi had asked for him.

"Yoongi called the hospital in hysteria, asking for an ambulance. He arrived passed out, with several nasty bruises on his left arm. We ran a few tests, and he seems to be okay, but we found that he had an extremely elevated heart rate before he passed out."

Jimin relaxed slightly. Yoongi wasn't dying; he'd be okay.

"I'll be right there," Jimin told the woman. "Tell Yoongi that I'm coming, okay?" And he hung up on the woman, leaving his cart behind as he ran out of the store to his car. He hardly ever used it, which was evident in the way he peeled out of the parking lot. Or maybe he was just panicking. He usually parked the car on the curb outside the mouth of the alley and ignored it in favor of walking.

He sped all the way to the hospital. When he reached the reception desk, he stuttered out his name and Yoongi's, and the woman sitting behind the desk gave him directions. He'd have to take the elevator up two floors and go to room 124.

When he entered room 124, he almost laughed. Sitting in the bed, wearing a white hospital gown, was an extremely grumpy looking Yoongi. He was glowering at the blankets like they had personally wronged him, arms folded across his chest. A nurse was trying to talk to him, but he ignored her. A small Pikachu plushy sat on the table beside the bed, which confused Jimin. Jimin knocked on the wall to announce his arrival. Yoongi looked up, scowl transforming into a huge smile as he saw Jimin. A swell of emotion rose in Jimin's heart and he rushed forward and wrapped Yoongi in a hug. The nurse left the room, but neither of them noticed. Jimin was too busy reveling in the feeling of Yoongi's body firmly pressed against his.

They were both shaking.

Jimin pulled away, sitting next to Yoongi on the bed, and noted how awful Yoongi looked. His skin was chalky and pale, and he had a feverish blush on his cheeks. Yoongi's whole body was shaking; hands especially. He could barely twist his fingers together against the white sheets. Jimin caught sight of the bruises the woman had mentioned over the phone and winced.

"Yoongi, what happened?" Jimin asked gingerly as he surveyed the bruises. Yoongi's left forearm was a riot of purple-gray and green. His vines were almost hidden under the new violent and sickly foliage. Yoongi grimaced, expression turning angry again.

"I just wanted to grab the Pikachu, but I'm so fucking short," Yoongi said, gesturing angrily at the yellow toy. Jimin raised an eyebrow.

"I was at the toy store, okay. I wanted to buy the Pikachu for you, but it just had to be on the top shelf. So I decided to jump and try and get it, but the whole fucking shelf fell down and crushed my arm," Yoongi flapped the arm in question, wincing a little bit. "The noise was too loud, I called the hospital mid-panic attack, and boom. Here we are," Yoongi swept his arms out in an expansive gesture.