Aster Petals

✽ eleven ❀

✽

His story ended with an 'I love you'.
And so will it be the beginning of a new volume of his life.

❀

Beep... Beep... Beep...

That familiar sound caused him to stir awake, slowly rising from a slumber of he-doesn't-know-how long. His mind feels quite groggy, head feeling as light as a feather, a bit sick but unusually better. He feels extremely exhausted even if he knew that he was lying down for at least a few hours (not that he actually knew but, he could tell, and he could be wrong).

The sound of the heart rate monitor just continued to beep, echoing inside his head ever so loudly. Ugh, it was just an annoying sound. Not something that he would like to listen to on repeat.

He tried his best to rest, to sleep and let the aching of his chest fade away. But the pain just continued to disrupt him, it continues to sting with every small movement he makes. He could feel it, very much so, but for some reason, it wasn't that painful; at least, not as much as he expected.

Just as he opened his eyes, he was met with the blinding light of the iridescent bulbs that surrounded the ceiling. It harshly shines over his eyes, causing him to lift his head and divert his gaze away from it.

He tries to adjust his vision to the brightness, squints his eyes as he looks at whatever was across him. He blinks a few times, trying to recall what had happened earlier before he ended up on this bed.

If he had to be honest, he doesn't remember anything about entering a room and lying down. His memories were quite blurry and hazy but he tried his best to paint a clearer picture. But there was nothing much. All he remembered was the disease, the funeral, the flowers, him almost at the verge of—

And that's when he realized, eyes widening, his vision finally adjusted.

Am I in heaven?

But, that didn't seem right.

Seokjin had his perception of heaven and that was a kingdom that had giant golden gates where angels await for his arrival and are ready to welcome him with open arms into the divine kingdom (or food in general); not a cold hospital room that had its familiar and distinct hospital scent.

That was oddly the first thought that came to mind since, for one, he can't be alive. He's supposed to be dead, as of what Seokjin believes. He had breathed his final breath, his story should've ended, but why does he still feel the pain inside his chest? Why does he finally feel alive after what felt like ages? Why does he feel, free?

His eyes quickly scan the room, hauling himself to sit upright. He then felt something pinning down on his blanket, causing Seokjin to shift his gaze to whatever was weighing the cloth.

He sees that familiar dark-brown haired male who had his head rested on his arms which were propped on top of Seokjin's blanket, nailing it down.

Namjoon's here, by his side.

Why is he here?

The rusty gears in Seokjin's head turned ever so slowly, trying to remember what had happened before he had woken up. He rewinds those moments, those moments when he was trying to get away from Namjoon, trying his best to find that specific memory that would snap his locks.

He collapsed and Namjoon caught him, that he remembers.

He confessed to Namjoon with his dying breath. He remembers that too.