chapter 3

“please, just this once listen to me and get the surgery.” he sounded like a child, small and broken. It broke your heart even more if that was possible. Before you could reach to hold his hand another violent coughing fit ripped through your chest and the rose petals danced around you. Jungkook’s eyes went wide and he held a petal between his fingers, you had hoped he wouldn’t make the connection but the new tears told you otherwise. “No no no this can’t be this isn’t. Why? Y/n? Please tell me it’s not..” you sighed, “jungkook I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” he crushed the petal in his hand, “I’m so sorry y/n this is all my fault.” you shook your head, “please don’t apologize, I’m still happy. I’m happy we met, I’m happy I got to be your best friend for my whole life. I’m happy I got to love you Jungkook.” he was sobbing fully now, clutching onto your arm as apologies spewed from his lips. You ran your free hand through his hair, “please don’t cry Kookie, I truly am happy I have you with me till the end.” You nodded over to the vase full of full roses that you’ve accumulated over your stay in the hospital, “They’re beautiful right Jungkook?” He nodded, “you always remembered that they were my favorite,” he whispered. “I’m happy I was able to grow flowers in my chest for you Jungkook, you gave me such a beautiful life, and I guess this is my body’s way of giving some of that beauty back to you.”

Jungkook didn’t cry at your funeral, or at the burial. How could he cry? You had died with a smile on your lips, telling him that he had always made you happy. He preserved the bouquet of roses and kept them in a safe along with his photos and memories with you. Now he looked back on his memories with you in a new light, always remembering the way you smiled around him. Jungkook had made a vow to you the day you past, he would sit and visit with you everyday and so far a year later he had kept his promise. “ Hey, it’s me again,” he spoke as he sat above your grave. He wasn’t sure why he spoke out loud, maybe some part of him believed you were listening. “I still have the flowers your grew for me, I think I’ll keep them for the rest of my life.” He placed the bouquet of pink peonies on your headstone, his eyes dull from grief. He stood up and looked down at the other flowers he had planted beside your headstone, small red roses and daffodils were sprouting now that it was spring again, “I promise to grow flowers for you too y/n, for the rest of my life.”

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