The Lights

Twenty-Six

Jungkook POV

I stare at Jimin in absolute defeat, unable to hide the desperation in my confession. He seems to be in shock, his body frozen by my words. I know I shouldn't, but I want him, I need him to help me. I feel like I'm about to fall apart.

I tried all of them- Mom, Dad, Junghyun... all of them.

Over and over and over again, growing more frantic with each failed attempt.

And still, no one answered.

I feel an all-consuming sense of dread slowly creep within me, attacking every cell. They tried calling me. And I ignored them. Over and over and over again. All of them. I would throw them a text every now and then, letting them know I was safe, but I couldn't bear to actually hear their voices. I'll be better tomorrow, I would promise myself. I'll be stronger tomorrow, more accustomed to the truth. Tomorrow.

But tomorrow never came.

And now, maybe it never will.

My thoughts flash to something the reporter said from earlier... three people severely injured as a result of the landslide. They didn't specify the location, but my family does live on the outskirts of Busan.

No.

Please, god, no.

Don't let it be them.

The horrifying thoughts run rampant in my frazzled mind, and all at once... I lose control.

"Jimin... I... something's wrong. I.." I try to get out the words, but I can barely form a complete sentence without gasping for air. The pain in my chest is immense, stronger than anything I've ever felt before.

I'm dying.

I really feel like I'm dying.

What the fuck is going on?

"I can't breathe. Please, Jimin, help me, fuck" I scream out through strangled sobs. "I think I'm dying, I think I'm dying, please. They're dead aren't they? All dead." My vision seems to be retreating from me rapidly; It's like I'm floating outside of my body and can't seem to come down. The only thing still tethering me to reality is the horrendous pain I feel in my chest.

Please, anyone, bring me back to Earth. Take my pain away before it kills me, I call out to anyone who will listen, but the words never actually leave my own mouth. No one can save me now. I have to go; I have to get out of here somehow.

Can anyone hear me?

Suddenly, Jimin breaks out of his stupor and cups my face. "Jungkook, look at me, you have to focus. You're having a panic attack. It's not real. None of it's real."

It takes a while for his words to actually register with me, and when they do, I'm still not quite able to grasp them. A panic attack? There's no way. I've never dealt with anything like that in my life. This can't just be all in my head.

My brain is in sensory overload, completely consumed by terrifying thoughts and images that I can't seem to block out. With each passing horror I'm hit with a new wave of excruciating pain.

I'd rather be numb. Take me away, let me out of here, somehow.

Suddenly, as if it were the simplest request I could possibly yearn for, my wishes are granted. I am officially numb; I seem to have left my body completely. I am not real. In fact, nothing is real anymore. Nothing can hurt me if nothing is real. 

Maybe it's better that way.

I hear Jimin's voice as if I'm underwater, muffled by the relentless waves. I'm drowning, slowly drowning in my own mind. I can't seem to break the surface, the current stronger than any fight I have left in me, pulling me under with ease. I don't recognize my surroundings, it's like I've got a front row seat to some one else's miserable life. 

Realizing he hasn't been able to get through to me, Jimin climbs on my lap, and gently lays me back on the bed. He places his full body weight on top of me, forcing me to look at him by firmly grasping my face in his delicate hands. I'm vaguely aware that I'm trying to speak, but the muttering is too incoherent for me to decipher.

"All dead. All dead. All dead. All dead," someone cries repeatedly, but I don't recognize the voice. It's loud and thick with emotion, strangled sobs filling the space around us. Is someone else in the room? As I adjust to Jimin's body on top of mine, I realize it's me, I'm the one talking. My voice is piercing, only causing my panic to rise even more, but I can't make it stop. I am completely at my own mercy, so why can't I make it stop?

"They're not dead, Jungkook. They will call you. You have to believe that. You have to be strong for them." He begins rubbing my face and scalp soothingly, but I can barely register the contact.

For some reason, however, the heaviness of his body on mine offers me comfort. I feel almost protected, grounded, even; it reminds me that I am real, even if reality seems to be slipping from my grasp, grains of sand dancing in the wind.

Maybe I can beat this.

I won't let the pain kill me.

Ever so slightly, I begin to hear his voice more clearly over the cries of my own.

"Listen to me, Kookie. What do you hear right now?" Although it's muffled, I can still make out his sweet words calling out to me. I would recognize his voice anywhere.

"Your," I swallow thickly, "voice."

He nods approvingly. "Now what can you smell?" He doesn't break eye contact with me for a second, barely even allowing himself to blink.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply, relishing in his scent. "Vanilla."

My favorite; The same scent I've been chasing in my own sheets.

He waits for me to open my eyes once more, concern lacing his pouted features, his forehead creased adorably. I want to reach out and smooth it, but I still don't feel like I have complete control of my limbs. "What do you feel, Kook-ah?" he calls out to me. 

The only thing providing me any real comfort. His weight pressing down on me, our chests flush against one another, is forcing me back into my body, slowly easing the numbness. I want to feel every inch pressing on my skin, so I'm begging my senses to reawaken.

It's getting easier, but I'm still having trouble finding the words. "Your... hands... on my face."

He begins caressing my face with a sense of urgency, trying to reaffirm my proclamation. "And what do you see?" 

Finally, for whatever reason, this answer seems to come naturally. Even if my eyes were closed, I think it would still be the same. "You, all I see is you, Jiminie."

All at once, I feel a sense of peace return to my body. Once again, I feel in control. The anxiety still hasn't completely subsided, but I can finally breathe again. Jimin is the only thing I can see, the only thing I can smell, hear, and feel. He is the only thing giving me strength.

"That's so much better, Kookie, we're almost there." He sighs in relief, offering me a quick hug before continuing on. "What do you taste?"

Right now, there's only one thing I want to taste. Nothing else matters. Nothing but him. The fear, the guilt, the regret, and everything in between.

It can wait.

"Strawberries."