Chapter Text
He stared at his rose with teary-filled eyes and quivering lips, the sight of his beloved's fragile form breaking his heart anew. Even in this wretched condition, his rose exuded a haunting beauty that transcended the physical realm. The once full and rosy cheeks, now pale and sunken, spoke of the toll life had taken. His plump, pink, kissable lips, now chapped and colorless, held an ethereal stillness. Yet, to Yoongi, his angel remained a vision of ethereal grace.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love," he sobbed, clutching his angel's small, cold hands between his trembling palms. The touch was soft and delicate, like a fragile butterfly's wings, but so icy to the touch. "I should have been brave and come to you sooner. I'm sorry for being late," he cried, his anguish reverberating through the tiny hut. It was a heart-wrenching sight to witness—a soul shattered, consumed by self-blame. "It's your fault," Yoongi's inner voice taunted, relentless in its torment. If only he hadn't been a coward, if only he had found the strength to reveal himself earlier, his angel might have been saved. "Please, angel, please. Just once, open your eyes and look at me," he pleaded, tears streaming down his face like a river of sorrow.
Lifting his hand, Yoongi slowly ran his long fingers through his angel's blond hair, marveling at its softness and fluffiness. It was a texture he could have played with endlessly. "Eomma, why does this always happen to me? I thought I had finally found my happiness, but why?" he lamented, his voice a broken whisper, carrying the weight of a thousand unanswered questions. "Why are the gods so cruel? All I wanted was to be happy. Please, please give him back to me," he sobbed, his whole body wracked with grief and his heart shattered into countless pieces.
Hovering over his angel's small, fragile body, Yoongi's trembling fingers traced the contours of his beloved's face with a tender touch. "You are the most beautiful flower I have ever seen in my entire life," he whispered, his thin lips turning upward in a small, bittersweet smile, his eyes still glossy with unshed tears. Yoongi slowly leaned down, placing a gentle kiss upon his angel's forehead, his heart flooded with a myriad of emotions. The pain of losing him, the regret of not being able to save him, the disappointment in himself for arriving too late, the sadness of witnessing his angel's frailty, the revelation after days of not seeing his beloved—each emotion intertwined with the love he held for his angel.
With a caress of his palm against his angel's cheek, Yoongi leaned down further, his lips finding their place upon his angel's plump, chapped ones. It was a kiss born from a whirlwind of emotions—an innocent, profound exchange that surpassed words. Tears flowed freely down Yoongi's cheeks, his heart exposed and vulnerable. In that ephemeral moment, he felt a warmth, a spark, as their lips melded together.
Unbeknownst to Yoongi, a soft purple mist began to envelop them, its ethereal presence casting a spell of enchantment. In the midst of their embrace, Yoongi felt a sense of serenity wash over him, though an inexplicable emptiness lingered within. And then, as if by the magic of an unseen force, the cold body beneath him began to warm, and the once-chilled lips against his own grew warm and moist. Yoongi's eyes fluttered open, widening in astonishment and disbelief. Before him, his angel's honey-colored orbs stared back, wide and filled with life, curiosity flickering within them. It was a sight that defied all reason and rationality.
In the next instant, Yoongi launched forward, wrapping his arms around his angel's body, pulling him close to his chest. "I-I thought I was too late. I thought I had lost you, my angel," he sobbed quietly, holding him tightly as if afraid to let go. "W-who are you?" his angel asked, his voice small and uncertain. Yoongi slowly released his grip, his gaze fixed on his angel's face. "Please, don't be afraid of me. I mean no harm, even though I may appear frightening," Yoongi mumbled, still struggling to comprehend the reality before him. "What do you mean, scary? You... You look handsome and cute," his angel replied, a beautiful blush gracing his cheeks. "I-I have ears and—" Yoongi's words faltered as he reached up to touch the top of his head, only to find emptiness. His once-feline ears were no longer there. "W-what?" he questioned, his voice filled with confusion, as he untied his robe, revealing his body. To his astonishment, his ears were nowhere to be found. His wings, too, had vanished. But how?
"Are you okay, mister?" his angel asked, concern evident in his eyes as he observed Yoongi's absentmindedness. "I'm... I'm okay," Yoongi managed to utter, his gaze locked on his angel, his heart pounding in his chest like a wild stallion. "I'm Min Yoongi, and I live in the mansion on the mountain," he explained, still struggling to reconcile the extraordinary events unfolding before him. "It's you," his angel said softly, his face growing a darker shade of red, a beautiful smile gracing his lips. "I'm Park Jimin. Thank you for the flowers," he replied, his voice a gentle melody that caressed Yoongi's ears.
"Park Jimin, a beautiful name for a beautiful angel," Yoongi thought aloud, his words tinted with awe, evoking a blush from both of them. With his angel so close, and the curse that had plagued him lifted, Yoongi could no longer contain himself. He leaned down, cupping his angel's face with his hands, and their lips met once more in a sweet, lingering kiss. Jimin's eyes widened in surprise, but he soon closed them, surrendering to the sweetness of their connection. It was a kiss filled with innocence yet brimming with the intensity of their shared emotions.
As they slowly parted, their eyes met, and in the silence that enveloped them, their gazes spoke volumes. Words proved inadequate to capture the depth of their feelings. Yoongi, unable to contain his emotions any longer, was the first to break the silence. "I-I have never seen anyone as beautiful and angelic as you. From the moment I saw you in my garden, I felt an inexplicable pull towards you. I was mesmerized by your eyes, your smile, your voice—the way they banished all my loneliness. I have seen many beautiful flowers, but you are the most exquisite among them all. When I found you, not breathing, lying here alone, I was terrified. I was so scared of losing you. Please, please don't leave me again. I love you, my rose," Yoongi poured out his heart, his voice trembling with raw emotion, his eyes teary again. His mind went through a whirlwind of memories, each one etched with the intensity of his love for Jimin.
Jimin slowly lifted his hand, gently wiping a tear from Yoongi's cheek. His touch was tender, filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "I was scared to come to the mansion, but I had no choice. I had to find flowers to sell. When you left me flowers and notes, I felt something I had never felt before. No one has ever shown me such attention. I was always an outcast. The way you expressed your affection, little by little, I found myself falling for you, even though I didn't know who you were. I love you too, Min Yoongi," Jimin declared, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration. He leaned forward, capturing Yoongi's lips once more in a sweet, lingering kiss.
Not far from Jimin's hut, an old lady stood in the moonlit night, a small smile tugging at her lips. She gazed up at the radiant moon, free from the oppressive shroud of dark clouds. "He has paid enough for his parents' foolishness. Some souls deserve a second chance," she murmured, her voice carrying a hint of ethereal wisdom. With that, she turned and disappeared into the depths of the forest, leaving behind the promise of a new chapter in their intertwined destinies.
"Every heart sings a song, incomplete until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet." And in that moment, Yoongi and Jimin's love story bloomed, their souls harmonizing in a symphony of everlasting devotion. Their union was a testament to the redemptive power of love, a melody that echoed through their very beings, transforming their pain into strength and their sorrow into profound joy.
THE END