Before Yoongi can ask him to share the location, Jungkook's doing exactly that, a current of relief juddering through Yoongi as it comes through. He has an address, a place to go, a solid, physical location where he knows Jungkook is. After days without any idea what became of him, having this makes it feel like he can breathe a little easier, even as a sob pulls itself from his throat. He covers his mouth, tries to hide the sound of it. He wants so badly to try and be what he's been so afraid he can't anymore, the source of comfort and stability he might once have been. He can't be that if he breaks down again. It's just that he's been so fucking scared, and somehow this feels more real. There's a map, a small rectangle, and only a short line between them.
He swallows hard, takes a deep breath. "Try to let me know if they do," he says, forcefully ignoring the sound of his voice shaking as if that on its own might make it stop. "But I'll come soon. Tomorrow." He'll look up the hospital first thing in the morning or as soon as they get off the phone, and figure out what the visiting hours are. If he gets there early enough or late enough, he might manage to get past Jungkook's mother. And maybe that isn't necessary. Maybe she wouldn't try to bar his way. He's not sure. He doesn't want to risk it.
He'll make plans and it'll all be okay.
He clutches the phone like it's the only thing left in the room that matters. Maybe it is.
"I love you," he whispers, closing his eyes tight, another tear spilling down his cheek.
no subject
He swallows hard, takes a deep breath. "Try to let me know if they do," he says, forcefully ignoring the sound of his voice shaking as if that on its own might make it stop. "But I'll come soon. Tomorrow." He'll look up the hospital first thing in the morning or as soon as they get off the phone, and figure out what the visiting hours are. If he gets there early enough or late enough, he might manage to get past Jungkook's mother. And maybe that isn't necessary. Maybe she wouldn't try to bar his way. He's not sure. He doesn't want to risk it.
He'll make plans and it'll all be okay.
He clutches the phone like it's the only thing left in the room that matters. Maybe it is.
"I love you," he whispers, closing his eyes tight, another tear spilling down his cheek.