Waiting Game | pjm ✓

043. Mother

Jimin let his hazy eyes wander Aera's motionless face. Three whole days had passed and she still wouldn't wake up. From the gaunt complexion of her face to the greying skin of her hands, the transformation couldn't have been more cruel. Ashen faced, she lay under the blanket, her thin frame resembling more a skeleton than a living, breathing person.

Waves of heat coursed through his body as he surveyed the way her chest would occasionally lift with her irregular shallow breathing that looked nothing like the breathing of a healthy person. From time to time as her body went completely still, he would wonder if she was even alive, but then the subtle sound of her lungs drawing in a little bit of air would fill him with relief.

She's just in deep slumber. But why does it resemble death so much?

Perhaps because of the dull grief that engulfed Jimin's conscience for some inexplicable reason. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that she was still in there somewhere, that she would be okay in the end, part of him was painfully aware that even if she were to come back, the chances that she'd be the same were slim. All the pain she'd been through, the disappointment, the terror, they'd definitely leave their mark on her.

Every memory of her played like a song in his head. All those years she'd lived, devoid of the love she truly deserved, of the parental guidance she'd always needed, harassed and terrorized by her own flesh and blood that was her evil brother. She had kept it together for far too long. Losing so many loved ones and discovering she'd been left with a responsibility far bigger and greater than anything she had ever imagined she'd have to deal with. Keeper of the Powers.

The other day, Aera had been shown the affection she'd craved for so long, finally meeting with her beloved grandmother only for her time with her to be cut short. Only to come back home to find out her ex-boyfriend, her first love, had deliberately tried to take her life for his own hidden gains.

There was no wonder why she had lost conscience. Her own mind refused to take in any more of the pain and instead, it had short-circuited.

Jimin wanted to scream, to cry a million tears but he had never been a crier. Everything boiled down to one thing – she should be here. He should be able to look into her eyes and tell her everything was going to be okay.

But she wasn't.

His heart was missing an integral piece, a part that kept it from working correctly. He reached out to discard a couple of hair strands from her forehead, his fingertips caressing the cold skin.

Cold. She was as still and cold as a dead person.

"Aera," Jimin's voice was barely above a croaky whisper. "Won't you come back to me already? I-" he choked up. "I can't function without you."

As expected, no response could be drawn out of her. A stray tear found its way down his cheek and his lower lip buckled upwards, his hand darting to his face instinctively.