Jungkook only has himself to blame for being here, he thinks. Maybe the driver should have been more careful, that much is true, but Jungkook knows that he was walking in the road, that there probably would've been safer routes home. That he could have waited for the bus, or even for Jin to drive them home as he always had before. Any single change in the path he took, and Jungkook probably wouldn't be here, trapped without the boys he loves, unable to sleep, aching and lost to pain.
Suddenly, he understands why his mother wouldn't let him have his phone. Now that the line of communication has been established, however briefly, Jungkook finds himself struggling to breathe, the need for Yoongi's company so sharp that it pierces through all the other physical aches.
please come
It's too much to ask, Jungkook knows. As soon as visiting hours start again — no, possibly even earlier than that — his mother is sure to come back and take her regular place by Jungkook's side, and if she won't let him have a phone, Jungkook can only imagine that she'd get in the way of anyone who actually tries to come into his room. Maybe once, that kind of attention would have been a comfort, but it's stifling now. Jungkook doesn't want this, the attention of a mother who only cares now that she's come so close to losing her son in ways that she can't avoid, can't write off as him being wayward or foolish.
Breath hitching, Jungkook taps Yoongi's phone number and hits the call icon, panic rising in his throat as he clutches the phone and holds it close to his ear. If they take the phone away — if Heejin never lets him borrow it again — right now, his mind can't even process the risks, too intent on hearing Yoongi's voice.
no subject
Suddenly, he understands why his mother wouldn't let him have his phone. Now that the line of communication has been established, however briefly, Jungkook finds himself struggling to breathe, the need for Yoongi's company so sharp that it pierces through all the other physical aches.
please come
It's too much to ask, Jungkook knows. As soon as visiting hours start again — no, possibly even earlier than that — his mother is sure to come back and take her regular place by Jungkook's side, and if she won't let him have a phone, Jungkook can only imagine that she'd get in the way of anyone who actually tries to come into his room. Maybe once, that kind of attention would have been a comfort, but it's stifling now. Jungkook doesn't want this, the attention of a mother who only cares now that she's come so close to losing her son in ways that she can't avoid, can't write off as him being wayward or foolish.
Breath hitching, Jungkook taps Yoongi's phone number and hits the call icon, panic rising in his throat as he clutches the phone and holds it close to his ear. If they take the phone away — if Heejin never lets him borrow it again — right now, his mind can't even process the risks, too intent on hearing Yoongi's voice.