Yoongi4

— Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

Their bedroom had long smelled of antiseptic and medication. Jimin clutched the crumpled note in his pocket—the one with the one that spelled out in black and white what would make his beloved a little happier. Yoongi, standing by the window, seemed almost transparent, his slender fingers catching the last of the winter sun.

"They said... remission," Jimin's voice broke on the first word, as if he himself didn't believe this crystal bubble of a lie. But he saw Yoongi's back freeze, then slowly turn. In his tired eyes, which had become too deep over the past months, a spark ignited—a whole fire of incredible, naive hope.

"Really?" Yoongi whispered, and in that whisper was his entire short life, stolen by illness.

"Really," Jimin forced out, stepping closer. He hugged him, feeling his sharp shoulder blades and fragile ribs under his palms, and silently vowed to give him the brightest birthday ever. Let at least one day be full of light, laughter, and their love, free from the burden of goodbyes.

On Yoongi's birthday, their room was transformed into a tiny universe with garlands and a single, small cake with a candle. Yoongi laughed, and that laughter, hoarse but genuine, cut Jimin's soul more sharply than any pain. He watched as Yoongi blew out the candle, making a wish that Jimin knew would never come true. Terminal cancer would take his elder's life any day now.

When the crumbs were cleared away and the lights continued to flicker, Yoongi pulled him closer, his breath hot and ragged.
"I want to feel alive," he whispered right into Jimin's lips. "I'll definitely make a lot of money... I'll take you to Paris, just like you dreamed of, Chim..."