Days went by after they had received the rotten news and none of them were ok, They had gone on a hiatus, all visiting family, trying to recover. The funeral had been held in Busan, at a place Jimin’s parents had picked. It was a beautiful spot, but the day was gray. Jungkook hadn’t been back since that day. He’d disappeared. He hadn’t gone home or spoken to the boys. Truth was, he was hiding out in the old apartment he and Jimin had shared. He never left the bed, his head never leaving Jimin’s pillow. Well, not until today.
Jungkook had finally worked up enough courage. He’d picked the flowers from a field he and Jimin had frequented often. He picked Jimin’s favorite. He bundled them up as best as he could and had their manager drive him. As he stepped out of the car, he immediately started to tear up. He hated this place, but he mostly hated that Jimin was here. He stepped onto the grass and the memories hit him, smacking him in the face. The memories of the accidents. His accidents.
