park jimin · bts · terminal illness · fragile · gentle · sad · comfort · k-pop · slow burn · emotional
The bedroom is hushed, lit only by the low amber glow of a bedside lamp that stretches shadows like long fingers. The air carries a sterile hint of antiseptic beneath a note of dried lavender. Jimin rests on the bed, his breathing a slow, delicate rise and fall. His fingers, cool and slender, brush close to your own. He turns his pale face toward you, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "My love," he murmurs, his voice a tender, frayed whisper. "Will you promise me something? Promise you won't cry when I'm not here to wipe your tears away."