BTS Oneshots

Colors

{Yoonmin}
{Fluff & Angst}
{Words: 1848}
Park Jimin hated black and white.
More than those however, he hated grey; grey and its seemingly never ending shades. You see, grey meant that there were colors to be seen, colors he could not possibly name.
Grey meant that Jimin was yet to find his soulmate, someone who he could see all the colors with. Grey meant that there was someone out there who would, no, could love Jimin. Grey represented hope, the hope that he may meet that someone someday, but it also stood for that heavy mix of dread and anticipation in the pit of his stomach.
Will he never get the opportunity? Or worse, if he does, will he end up regretting it?
For now, or maybe forever, grey meant that Park Jimin was all alone.
-
Often one of the first colors a person sees after meeting their soulmate is red.
Namjoon would go on and on about red. How Seokjin was wearing red converse when they first met, how it is his favorite color now, how both of them always kept something red on their person. Jimin wondered if he would like red, he wondered if he would hate it, he wondered if anything he owned was red.
Wondering. Wondering. Wondering.
Wondering was all he could do, as he leaned back onto the bus seat, eyes shut.
Jimin reminded himself that he could not know which one was red, or blue, or green, or pink- which was apparently the color of Namjoon's hair.
Suddenly the bus came to a halt and Jimin couldn't breathe. This was not cutesy movie breathlessness, no; this felt more like someone had sucked all the oxygen from his surroundings and punctured his lungs. He tried gasping for air, aching to cry for help, vision and consciousness all but gone- when he felt as if someone had doused him in cold water.
His eyes flew open as every cell in his body hummed to life, and before him he saw a man. Same height as him (Jimin might have even been taller), square hipster glasses and hair that was turning wetter by the second.
Except that wasn't water, it was... "Gorgeous." breathed Jimin.
The stranger's hair was blossoming, as if invisible droplets were falling upon his head and blooming into colors not grey, colors that Jimin couldn't help but stand up, reach out and touch.
"Sorry. I couldn't...I'm sorry" he whispered, too close to the stranger's face for it to be normal, yet not close enough.
"Do you see them too?" the stranger questioned. "The colors?"
The last word was soft, as if it were a secret between the two of them.
Jimin nodded shakily, wanting desperately to touch the color again, the color of the stranger's hair, the hair that vaguely reminded him of something like happiness and hope. But a glance at his surroundings showed that it wasn't just this person's hair that was burgeoning, rather everything around him was changing into something foreign. Nothing was black and white. Nothing was grey.
Jimin wanted to, no, he needed to feel every single one of the colors, to touch them, the one that reminded him of warmth, the one that reminded him of the sea, the one which reminded him of...home.
"Your hair is the most beautiful one, you know." Jimin blurted not thinking, warmth flooding his cheeks moments later.
"I- I meant it's um, very nice."
The stranger's short, slightly curt 'thank you' broke off a small piece of Jimin's heart. Brilliant. First meeting and you have already creeped out your soulmate, Jimin.
"Min Yoongi." the stranger held out his hand.
"Park Jimin." He responded, voice small.
"So..." Yoongi paused to clear his throat, "Wanna get some coffee or something, kid?"
-
Eight months later, and the colors still excited Yoongi every bit as much as they excited Jimin, though the older would never say that out loud.
Yoongi loved looking at colors but he loved looking at Jimin even more.
His face when it would morph into literal joy, his crescent eyes when he would turn to Yoongi, soft, pillowy lips parted in preparation to talk about the newest color they had just witnessed. He was not one for metaphorical bullshit but his Jimin had bought more into his life than literal colors ever could, changed his world in a way colors never could.
"Hyung, you know mint green was the first color I ever saw? It was the color of your hair then, and I don't understand," Jimin sighed dramatically on his phone, "Why you would every want to change it. Do you not love me? Is that it?"
"Sunshine you're ridiculous. It's just hair. I can change it back. Besides you will love the pink, I promise."
"So, you don't love me. That's it isn't it?" Yoongi could almost hear the pout that Jimin most certainly had on his face.
"Park Jimin, you know I love you more than life itself, but this color is getting old. I want to change it. I can't dye it mint green for the rest of my life."
"Fine. I gotta go then. Busy roads hyung, gotta cross. Bye."
"Jim-" but only dead silence ensued.
****
Cell phones ringing during studio time was one of Yoongi's biggest pet peeves, yet when an unknown number called for the seventh time in a row, he gave in and reached for his phone.
"Is this Min Yoongi?" a calm female voice asked.
"Yes this is him, and he is extremely busy." He snapped.
"Mr. Min." she sighed "You have been listed as one of Park Jimin's emergency contacts-" Yoongi inhaled sharply, forbidding his mind from jumping to any conclusions. "We want to inform you that Mr. Park has been in an accident-"
"No, no..." He mumbled into the phone.
"He has been taken to the Asan Medical Center and you-" He didn't let her finish, he couldn't.
Mind spinning, he ran.
"Mr. Min, there is nothing we can do at the moment. Your boyfriend is in comatose form, and we cannot predict when he will wake. If he will wake."
"Don't you dare fucking say that. He will. He will. He will." Yoongi fell to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees, sobbing. "He will."
It was Seokjin's gentle hands that plucked him up and led him to a sofa, all the while stroking the younger's hair.
"He will, Yoongi. For your sake if nothing else. I promise." Seokjin whispered in his hair. Yet nothing could break Yoongi's trance-like muttering of "he will"
-
"In cases like this it's rather hard to know what to do. Mr. Min claims he can still see color and we don't have any way of knowing if it's otherwise. He can try going in and talking to the comatose form, but we are unsure of how much the patient will hear." The doctor explained calmly to Seokjin and a Yoongi lurking in the background.
"His name," Yoongi growled, stepping forward, "is Park Jimin", he pushed past the doctor and into the hospital room.
"H-hey Sunshine." Yoongi's voice broke off as he tried to stifle a sob, and then gruffly rubbed off a tear from his cheek.
Jimin lay on the hospital bed, too straight, too unmoving. There were not enough colors around him, Yoongi thought to himself. Jimin loved colors and everything here was too bland. Too much of a reminder of the past.
He had to get Jimin out of here. He absolutely had to.
"Sunshine, it's me. Yoongi. Oh god" he sniffled. "I don't know if you can, um, hear me. But god I really hope you do."
Jimin could feel it. He could feel everything. The dull ache in the back of his head, his legs which felt too heavy, and even the soft hand squeezing his own.
Yoongi.
I can hear you Yoongi. I can feel you. I don't think I can wake up ever again. I'm sorry.
"I don't know if you remember, love, but you were in a car accident. And it was h-horrible. And, god, you probably can't even hear me."
Cold tear drops splashed against Jimin's cheek.
I remember. There was blood. So much blood. I never saw the car coming. It was my fault, all my fault. I'm sorry Yoongi.
"I–I just... I love you. I love you so much. And... and I'm never going to leave your side."
I love you more than you will ever know. You are my everything.
Jimin felt the hand tighten in his, impossibly gentle, yet firm.
"Y-y'know something Sunshine" he hiccuped, "after our phone call I dyed my hair back to your beloved mint green...and I promise I'll keep it this way. If-if only you wake up. Please Jimin, please, if you can hear me, open your eyes, please. I miss you. I can't go on without you. I–I need you. Come back for me please, please."
Yoongi, I want to. But I don't know why I can't. I'm so sorry. I can hear you but I can't move. My body feels so heavy and I'm so tired.
I think I'm lost, Yoongi.
I'm lost and it's so dark and murky and I can't find my way to the light. My way to you. But I'm trying. I promise- but then Jimin gave in to the morphine scratching at his brain, turning numb completely.
-
Jimin woke because his chest hurt.
It hurt so much that Jimin wanted to cry, yet tears failed him. He wanted to cry out Yoongi's name into the darkness, knowing that he would come, yet his throat was too parched. So he closed his eyes again.
Yoongi would be waiting for him. He knew he would.
When Jimin woke again it felt like it was morning, a worried looking Namjoon and an even more distressed Seokjin were peering down at him. Something felt wrong. Something was out of place.
The realization hit Jimin like a wave of shocking pain. The color. The color was fading. But it could not be. Yoongi had to be somewhere did he not? Maybe Jimin was just too sick to see color. Yoongi had come to see him just yesterday right?
Right?
"Hyung, where is Yoongi hyung? Is he sleeping?" Jimin croaked "Why are the colors fading hyung? Where is Yoongi?"
Seokjin's silent tears are what did it. Jimin felt something snap within him, a chord only he possessed, a chord that could never be fixed.
"No, no" was all he could manage to mumble.
-
Often one of the first colors a person sees after meeting their soulmate is red. Park Jimin had seen mint green.
What no one had told him however was how the colors faded when your soulmate leaves the world. The world started turning pale and moments later all Jimin could see was mint green of his phone lock screen.
Minutes later, all Jimin could see was just black, white and grey- colors that meant that now, Park Jimin was all alone - forever.