sunshine • myg jhs

i'm blinded by white lights as soon as i open my eyes.
"no, turn those off. please." i beg.
"yoongi!" it's jungkook.
he rushes to the door and throws it open.
"NURSE. NURSE. HE'S AWAKE!" he shouts out into the hallway.
"be quiet! and get those lights off, you little shit." i hear an angry jimin snap.
the lights go out and i look around expecting hobi to be by my side.
there is no hobi.
"where is my hoseok?" i ask remembering all that had happened.
they both freeze, jungkook's hand still on the light switch.
the two look at eachother, then jimin stands and approaches me slowly.
"yoongi the car hit hoseok dead on. he-"
"don't give me details. don't stall. give me the truth. where is my hoseok?"
they look at eachother again and tears cloud over jimins eyes.
he turns his back to me and jungkook takes his place in talking to me.
"yoongi, he-"
the nurse he had called for comes in then.
"well hello, mr. min! how are we feeling this morning?" she says cheerfully.
"angry." i answer.
"well that's no way to feel when you've survived another day."
"okay listen to me. i understand it's your job to try and help me rehabilitate and whatever. and i thank you for trying. but right now, i don't care that i survived. where is hoseok? jung hoseok. brown hair, brown eyes, an adorable little button nose and heart shaped lips. he's 177 centimeters with shoulders that aren't broad but aren't narrow. he has long, thin fingers, and thick, muscular arms and legs. hoseok. where's my hoseok?!"
the nurse's smile falters.
"mr. min. he-" she pauses. why doesn't anyone want to tell me? it's my right to know. "i'll show him to you how about that? then i'll tell you all that happened. okay?"
"is he-"
"no. no, he's still fighting." jimin says.
i nod and the nurse comes over to help me into my wheelchair.
i only suffer temporary injuries.
two broken legs, a broken wrist, and a broken thumb.
nothing that enough time couldn't heal.
she makes sure i'm situated, before wheeling me out of my room and into the elevator.
i don't pay attention to numbers or names or where we get off.
i just keep thinking.
if we had left merely a second later.
or a second earlier.
or we hadn't had left.
or we hadn't had gone in the first place.
none of this would have happened.
he would be okay.
we would be okay.
"he's in here. mr. min." the nurse informs me as she opens a door.
hoseok has a private room.
i shared mine.
but the lady was sleeping when i woke up and sleeping when we left, so i assume she won't bother me much.
the nurse wheels me in, and i expect to see him in casts at the most, smiling while having a quaint conversation with a nurse.
but his eyes are shut.
his mouth is forced open by a tube.
his head is wrapped in bandages.
he has needles in his arms.
and there are tubes, everywhere.
tears prick my eyes and i look away from him.
"that's not hoseok. it can't be."
i refuse to believe that he could ever be this lifeless.
"yoongi..." jimin says.
"don't 'yoongi' me. that's not my hoseok. my hoseok is always bright and happy. always full of life and joy. that's not him! that's not my hoseok. it's not possible!"
tears spring from my eyes and run down my cheeks.
"please tell me you're lying. please tell me it's a joke! this can't be him! it can't be."
i feel something prick my arm, but i don't pay it any mind.
"please don't tell me i did this. it can't be him because if it's him, i'm the one who made him this way! please just-" my head spins. "just tell me-" my eyes get heavy. "tell me it's-" my body goes numb. "not really-" i fight to stay upright and awake, but it's no use. "him."