the truth untold || taekook || ✓

one;

❅

*warning, sensitive content

    Taehyung sat alone in the waiting room, his feet tapping impatiently on the ground and his hands drumming against his legs as he nervously waited to be called for his results.
    He hadn't been feeling the best for a few months, and after multiple tests, body scans and more were preformed on him, they had finally come to a conclusion with what was wrong with him.
     Jungkook insisted that he went along with him, for moral support, he had called it, but Taehyung declined numerous times, not wanting to make his friend worry about him in case it was something serious.
    All sorts of anxiety and worry built in inside Taehyungs chest, making it hard for him to breathe. He had butterflies in his stomach, and not the good kind. He was worried that, indeed, it could be something serious, despite the doctors and nurses informing him not to worry.
    'Mr. Kim?' A doctor walked out of a room, a clipboard in his hand and glasses perched high upon his nose.
     Taehyung hesitatingly stood up, finding it hard to keep balance on his feet. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs as he bit anxiously down on his bottom lip, following after the doctor.
It's okay, he told himself, you're going to be fine. It's nothing to worry about. You're okay.
   'Please, take a seat,' the doctor said firmly, shutting the after them.
    Taehyung took his seat near the desk, sweaty hands clasped together in his lap as he looked anywhere but the doctor.
    His eyes focus on a poster of the human anatomy. He tried to read the words, to distract himself from what he was about to hear, but the font was too small. So his eyes settled on his shoes, black sneakers that his best friend Jungkook had gotten him for Christmas last year. His heart softened at the thought of the boy with chocolate coloured hair and a bunny smile. As he stared at them, he noticed that they had a few scuff marks and scratches, he hoped Jungkook wouldn't be too mad for ruining them so quickly.
    The doctor cleared his throat, catching Taehyung's attention. He slowly brought his eyes to the doctors, who's eyes were glued to the report sheet before him.
     The doctor sighed multiple times, which didn't do anything to assure Taehyung's worry, rubbing at his forehead, removing his glasses from his nose then rubbing at his eyes before he finally looked up at Taehyung, pressing a small smile.
He pushed the glasses higher up his nose, smiling sadly. 'Do you want the good news first or the bad news?'
Taehyung could hear his heart thumping in his ears, the sound so loud and vivid, he thought maybe if his doctor would be able to hear it, too.
He swallowed, drumming his fingers against his knees as he let out a shaky breath. 'Good, please,'
The doctor slowly nodded, letting out a sigh. 'The good news is, we found out what was wrong with you.'
Taehyung's heart beat quickened, he was nervous and the butterflies in his stomach felt more like lions now, hungry and wanting to burst out from his body.
'And the bad news?' He asked quietly, hoping that it wouldn't be entirely that bad and could be an easy fix.
The doctor looked down for one moment, before looking back up at Taehyung, sincerity in his eyes. Pity.
'Unfortunately, Mr. Kim,' he began, 'we made a discovery that you have a deadly tumour located near your brain.'
The heart beat that Taehyung heard before had now stopped, his breathing had frozen and his body was still.
His world had stopped.
'T-this must be a mistake,' he breathed out, 'you're wrong. I- I can't- do some more tests!' Taehyung leapt out of his seat, almost screaming at the man before him. 'You have to do something! I can't-'
The doctor spoke in a calm yet stern voice, having done this multiple times. 'We are going to do the very best we can to remove it, however it is placed in a very dangerous area. Surgery may be preformed, but there is a possibility that you may not survive. That is a decision for you to make.'
Taehyung was in shock, he felt as if his whole life had been flipped upside now, and metaphorically speaking, it had.
How long did he have left?
How many days could he spend with the people he loved?
How many more chances did he have to tell him he loved him?

-
DRAFT VERSION

the beginning of a very sad story.