Accomplice () Kim Taehyung ()

accomplice (공범) — kim taehyung (김태형)

✧.* 18+

it was in love’s grasp that people found their greatest vulnerabilities exposed. it is love that held the power to bring forth both the heights of ecstasy and the depths of despair, often within the same breath. that weapon did not merely attack—it ensnared, it entwined, and in its embrace, it could drive its blade deep into the very core of one’s being. its effectiveness lied not in its force but in its subtlety, its ability to undermine from within while masquerading as a friend.

even as it healed, love could wound with the same touch. it was a gift that, when wielded recklessly, could leave scars that never fully faded. it was the smile that hid betrayal, the caress that masked intent, the warmth that preceded a cold, unfeeling end. love was the shadow that danced at the edge of light, a darkness that held the promise of all that could be lost in its pursuit. in the grand theatre of human emotion, love stood as the most potent of all the tools of destruction, draped in a veil of beauty and grace. it was the weapon that could unravel lives with the gentlest of touches and leave behind only the echoes of a dream once cherished. and in that way, love remained the greatest weapon of all evil, not through its capacity to destroy but through its ability to seduce, to bind, and to ultimately leave its mark on the soul, irrevocably changed.

in the twilight of your shared existence, love unfolded with the slow, deliberate grace of a symphony. the days drifted past in a haze of golden hues, each moment with taehyung a testament to the profound beauty of your connection. the world outside seemed to dissolve into a mere backdrop as you both wove your lives into an intricate tapestry of affection and vulnerability.

the first time you truly recognized the depth of your bond was beneath the canopy of a starlit sky. the night air was crisp, carrying with it the faintest hint of jasmine from the garden below. you had been lying side by side on the grassy knoll, your fingers intertwining effortlessly, as if they were always meant to be together. his voice, low and melodious, broke the silence. “do you ever wonder,” he asked, his gaze fixed on the celestial expanse above, “if the stars are just a reflection of our souls, scattered across the universe?”

you turned to him, your heart swelling with an emotion too vast for words. “sometimes,” you replied softly, “it feels like they are. like they’re whispering secrets that only we can understand.” he smiled, a slow, tender curve of his lips that made your heart ache with its sincerity. “i’ve always thought that love was the universe’s way of reminding us that we’re never truly alone. that even in the vastness of space, there’s a connection that binds us.”

in those moments, with his head resting gently on your shoulder and the weight of the world momentarily suspended, you felt the profound truth of his words. love was indeed a force that transcended the ordinary, a cosmic bond that defied the confines of time and space. your days together were punctuated by those quiet revelations, moments of profound clarity interspersed with the simple joys of shared experiences. whether it was the soft laughter that accompanied your late-night conversations or the stolen glances in crowded rooms, each instance was imbued with a beauty that seemed almost sacred.

in the sanctuary of your shared existence, where the boundaries between passion and tenderness blurred, love unfurled itself with a fiery intensity that was as consuming as it was enchanting. the nights spent together were not just a testament to the strength of your bond but also to the raw, unfiltered passion that coursed through every touch and whisper.

as twilight settled over your world, the air was heavy with the promise of something more. the room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the lamps, casting shadows that danced playfully on the walls. taehyung’s presence was a palpable force, a magnetic pull that drew you ever closer. he stood before you, his gaze unwavering as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. the simple gesture was charged with an undercurrent of longing, a silent confession of the desire that simmered just beneath the surface. his fingers lingered on your skin, their warmth sending shivers down your spine.

“you know,” he murmured, his voice a deep, velvety rumble that resonated with an intensity that matched the heat in his eyes, “there’s something almost intoxicating about the way you look at me.” you met his gaze, your heart racing as you felt the heat of his words envelop you. “and you,” you replied, your voice hushed and trembling with anticipation, “have a way of making everything feel so electric. every touch, every glance—it's like a spark that ignites a fire within me.”

with a slow, deliberate movement, he closed the distance between you. his hands found your waist, drawing you close until your bodies were pressed together, the rhythm of his breath a steady cadence against your skin. his lips brushed against your ear, the sensation both tantalizing and reassuring. “i’ve always believed,” he whispered, his breath warm and tantalizing, “that love and lust are intertwined, two sides of the same coin. It’s the way you make me feel that drives me to the edge of reason, the way our bodies communicate in a language that words can never fully capture.”

you responded to his touch with an urgency that spoke of the depth of your desire. your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, each caress a testament to the passion that surged between you. as his lips found yours, the kiss was a fierce and hungry exploration, a melding of souls that left you both breathless and yearning. the room seemed to close in around you, the world outside fading into insignificance as you became lost in the intoxicating dance of desire. taehyung’s hands roamed over your body with a reverent intensity, each touch a promise, each kiss a declaration. the space between you was charged with an electric energy, a palpable force that seemed to set every nerve on edge.

“you're mine,” he murmured, his voice low and gruff, pressing his body against yours. his hands roamed over your clothed skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. the scent of desire mingled in the air, thickening the tension between you. you didn't protest when he shoved you against the wall, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, “you're gonna take it all.” it was a promise, a threat, and a declaration of his intentions. and in that moment, you realized you had never been so ready to surrender.

his fingers fumbled with the buttons of your shirt, ripping it open to reveal your braless chest. your tits bounced free, the cool air brushing against your hardened nipples. taehyung's eyes gleamed with hunger as he took in the sight, and he didn't waste a second before his mouth was on you, biting and sucking, leaving red marks on your skin. you gasped, your hands instinctively reaching up to grab his hair, pulling him closer as he kneaded your flesh with rough, demanding hands. the sound of fabric tearing filled the room as he yanked your pants down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable before him.

his eyes traveled down, darkening as he took in the sight of your wet pussy. “so pretty,” he murmured, before slapping your ass hard. the sound echoed through the room, making you jump and moan. your eyes watered, but you didn't dare tell him to stop. you liked it rough, just like he did. he smacked you again, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. “ask for it,” he demanded, his voice a growl that sent shivers down your spine. "please," you begged, your voice shaking with need. “please, tae, fuck me.”

without another word, he positioned himself at your entrance, his hard length pressing against your wetness. he pushed in, inch by inch, filling you completely. your walls stretched around him, welcoming him home. you moaned his name, your body trembling with pleasure. he didn't hold back, slamming into you with a ferocity that had you seeing stars. your hands clawed at his back, leaving deep scratches as he slapped your tits, watching them bounce with every thrust. “you like that?” he asked, his voice thick with lust. “yeah,” you moaned, feeling your orgasm building. “i like it when you're rough with me.”

his hand reached up, grabbing your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. “you want more?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours. you nodded, unable to form words. “good,” he said, tightening his grip as he picked up the pace. your breathing grew ragged, your body on the edge of ecstasy. “say it,” he demanded, his voice harsh. “say you're mine.” and with a final smack to your face, you did, your voice hoarse as you screamed it out, “i'm yours, tae!” and with that, you shattered around him, your body convulsing with the most intense orgasm you had ever felt.

the lush, intoxicating beauty of your relationship had once seemed invincible, an impenetrable fortress of love and desire. but as the days turned into months and the months into years, the relentless march of reality began to press against the walls of your shared world. the vibrant tapestry of passion and tenderness began to fray at the edges, worn thin by the harsh realities that even the strongest love could not entirely escape.

the weight of the evening felt oppressive, the air thick with the heavy, palpable tension that had been building for weeks. your small trailer home, once a sanctuary of shared dreams and affection, now seemed like a cage of discontent. the dim light from a single lamp flickered against the walls, casting long, distorted shadows that danced in rhythm with the mounting frustration between you and taehyung.

the last of your money had been spent on a six-pack of beer, a futile attempt to escape the grinding reality of your financial struggles. empty bottles cluttered the table, a stark reminder of how far you had fallen from the easy intimacy of your past. he sat across from you, his face set in a grim expression as he took another swig from his bottle.

“i can’t fucking believe this,” he said, his voice edged with anger. “we’ve been struggling for months, and here we are, with nothing to show for it. we’ve spent every last cent on this,” he gestured angrily at the empty bottles, “and we’re no closer to fixing anything.”

you glared back at him, your own frustration boiling over. “don’t act like it’s just about the money. we’ve been fighting about this constantly. every time we try to make a plan, it fucking falls apart.”

his eyes flashed with irritation. “you think i don’t know that? i’m the one who’s been working myself to the bone, trying to find a way out of this shit. but every time i turn around, we’re right back here, broke and angry.”

“and i’m the one who’s been holding this shit together, trying to make sure we have enough to get by,” you shot back, your voice rising. “it’s not like i’m just sitting around doing nothing. we’re both in this mess, and it’s tearing us apart.” the argument spiraled, each of you throwing blame with increasing fervor. the words became sharper, the accusations more personal. what had once been a shared struggle now seemed like an insurmountable barrier between you, your voices rising in a cacophony of frustration.

“we’re on the brink of losing everything,” he shouted, slamming his bottle down on the table. “and what do we do? we drink away the last of our money like it’s going to fix anything!” your face flushed with anger, tears of frustration pricking at your eyes. “we’re both exhausted. this isn’t just about the fucking money; it’s about feeling like we’re failing at everything we’ve worked for. we’re constantly fighting just to stay afloat, and it’s destroying us.”

his face hardened, his frustration turning into a cold resolve. “you know what? i can’t do this anymore. i need some space, some time to think. i can’t keep fighting this battle day in and day out with no end in sight.” before you could respond, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. without another word, he grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door. the sound of the door slamming shut echoed through the small trailer, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

you stared at the closed door, feeling the enormity of the situation settle over you. the argument had left both of you raw and exposed, and now, the emptiness of the trailer seemed to mirror the emptiness of your heart. the weight of your financial troubles felt even heavier now, the anger and pain of the argument making the struggle feel even more insurmountable. outside, taehyung stood in the dim light of the trailer’s porch, his breath visible in the chilly night air. he fumbled with a pack of cigarettes, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled one out and lit it with a shaking match. the plume of smoke curled up into the night, mingling with the fog of his thoughts.

the cigarette’s glow illuminated his face in fleeting moments, revealing the weariness and regret etched into his features. he took a long drag, the nicotine offering a brief reprieve from the relentless weight of his thoughts. the cold night air felt like a stark contrast to the heated argument that had transpired inside. his mind raced as he exhaled the smoke, each puff a small attempt to clear the storm of emotions swirling inside him. the cigarette burned down, its ashes falling to the ground as he grappled with the reality of your situation. the comfort of the night was a harsh juxtaposition to the chaos of the evening, a quiet backdrop to the turmoil within.

his footsteps echoed softly against the cold pavement as he walked away from the trailer home, the weight of the argument with you still heavy on his shoulders. the cool night air was a stark contrast to the heated words exchanged, and the solitary walk gave him a momentary escape from the suffocating tension that had plagued his evening.

he headed towards his friend's place, a small apartment that always seemed to have a haze of smoke drifting from its windows. yoongi, a friend known for his reckless tendencies and a constant source of questionable advice, was a haven for those in need of distraction or, in taehyung’s case, a sounding board for his mounting frustrations. when he arrived, yoongi greeted him with a knowing nod and a smirk that spoke of many similar late-night confessions. they settled into the worn-out couch, the familiar scent of stale smoke and cheap cologne filling the room. yoongi reached for a joint, rolling it with practiced ease and lighting it with a casual flick.

“rough night?” he asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a lazy drawl. his eyes, half-closed in relaxation, watched as taehyung took the joint and drew in a deep breath, letting the smoke curl around him.

“you could say that,” he replied, his voice strained as he took another drag. “things are just getting worse. the money’s gone, and the arguing never stops. i don’t know how much more I can take.” yoongi’s eyes sharpened with a glint of mischief. “you know, there’s always a way out if you’re willing to look for it. sometimes you just need a little push in the right direction.”

taehyung looked at him with a mix of hope and skepticism. “what are you talking about?” yoongi reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “a contact I know—he’s got connections. if you’re really desperate, he might be able to help. just text him. he might offer you a solution.”

the paper had a phone number scribbled on it, and taehyung hesitated for a moment before accepting it. yoongi’s demeanor was too casual, too nonchalant, but the desperation in his heart drove him to take a chance. he nodded, though doubts lingered at the edge of his mind. “thanks,” he said, pocketing the number. “i’ll think about it.”

as he walked back to the trailer, the weight of the night hung heavily around him. he couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding, but the thought of the financial relief yoongi had promised was too alluring to ignore. when he returned to the trailer, you were asleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of your breathing a stark reminder of what he stood to lose. in the quiet of the night, he sat at the small kitchen table, his phone in hand. with trembling fingers, he composed a text to the unknown number: “i need help. i was given your contact. what can you offer?”

he sent the message and waited, the seconds stretching into what felt like hours. finally, a response came through: “i can offer you a way out. you will be given a target and location. complete the job, and the money will be yours. are you in?”

taehyung’s heart raced as he read the message. the reality of what was being asked of him hit like a wave, and he hesitated. the thought of taking another person’s life was a profound and unsettling concept. but then he thought of you—the mounting bills, the arguments, the fear of losing you—and the money promised seemed to be the only escape from the relentless cycle of despair. with a resigned breath, he replied: “i’m in. who's the target?”

the response came swiftly: “you will receive the details shortly. follow them precisely. do not involve anyone else.” the message left him with a feeling of dread, but the desperation to save your relationship pushed him forward. he needed the money, and the promise of a way out was too compelling to ignore.

the next morning, taehyung set out in his car, following the instructions he had received. his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as he drove through unfamiliar streets, the early morning light casting an eerie glow on the empty roads. the destination was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, its dilapidated structure a stark contrast to the life he had once envisioned for himself.

when he arrived, he parked his car and approached the building with a sense of grim determination. inside, he found a solitary figure waiting for him, a man with a cold, detached demeanor. the instructions had been clear: there was a target, and the payment would be made once the job was complete. his heart pounded as the man handed him a photograph of the target—a middle-aged man with a weary expression. the target was described in detail, his daily routine, and the precise location where he would be found. his hands shook slightly as he took in the information, the enormity of what he was about to do weighing heavily on him.

“you know what you need to do,” the man said, his voice devoid of empathy. “get it done, and you’ll receive your payment. no mistakes.” taehyung nodded, his mind numb with fear and resolve. he followed the directions to the location where the target was expected to be—a quiet, isolated park where the man often took his morning walks. as he approached, the sight of the man moving slowly along the path seemed to crystallize the gravity of the situation.

he took a deep breath, steeling himself against the turmoil inside. the act was swift and brutal, driven by the necessity of the moment. the cold reality of the deed left him hollow, the weight of the action crashing down on him as he completed the job. the man fell, lifeless, and taehyung’s heart felt like lead as he made the final call to the contact. he texted the number: “the job is finished.” the reply came almost immediately: “good. payment will be sent.”

with the task behind him, taehyung drove back to the trailer, his mind clouded with a mix of guilt and relief. the night was a blur of regret and disquiet as he lay in bed beside you, the comforting rhythm of your sleep a cruel contrast to the turmoil within him. when morning came, he awoke to a sense of unease. he found a package left at your doorstep, its presence a stark reminder of the price he had paid. he opened it cautiously, revealing a substantial amount of money neatly packed inside. the sight of the cash was both a relief and a torment, a bitter reminder of the sacrifice he had made.

as he stared at the money, the enormity of his actions settled heavily on him. the financial relief that had seemed so alluring now felt tainted, the cost of maintaining your relationship overshadowed by the dark path he had chosen. the guilt gnawed at him, a constant companion in the quiet moments of the morning, as he prepared to face another day with the weight of his choices pressing down on him.

the morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of your trailer, casting a soft glow over the small space. taehyung lay beside you, his mind a tumultuous sea of conflicting emotions. the heavy weight of his actions pressed down on him, a constant reminder of the path he had taken. yet, as he glanced at you, peacefully asleep beside him, a pang of regret and determination surged within him.

the sight of you, so innocent and trusting, filled him with a deep sorrow. he had done something unforgivable to provide for you, to salvage the love that seemed on the brink of destruction. the money on the table, though a source of relief, was also a symbol of the dark choice he had made. as he stared at the pile of cash, his resolve hardened. he had to put on a façade of normalcy, to keep you from knowing the truth. with a heavy heart, he gently shook your shoulder, his touch tender despite the inner turmoil. “hey, wake up,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady.

you stirred, blinking awake and smiling as you saw him beside you. “morning,” you mumbled, your voice still drowsy. “i have something for you,” taehyung said, a forced cheerfulness in his tone as he reached for the bundle of cash on the table. he picked it up, holding it out to you with a mixture of apprehension and hope. “i want you to see this.”

you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and looked at the wad of money in his hands. your eyes widened in surprise. “what is this? where did you get all this money?” taehyung swallowed hard, his mind racing for a plausible explanation. “it’s from my parents,” he said, forcing a smile. “they sent it for a missed birthday. they wanted to help us out.”

you stared at the money, the disbelief on your face quickly melting into joy. “are you serious? this is incredible! i can’t believe they did this for us!” the relief and happiness in your voice made taehyung’s heart ache. he wanted to confess, to tell you everything, but the lie he had spun felt like the only way to protect you from the truth. the money was a temporary fix, a shallow balm for the deeper wound of what he had done.

“i’m just glad we have some breathing room now,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “we can finally catch a break.” without another word, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. the affection in your touch, the way you held him close, was both a comfort and a torment. you tilted your head up, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was tender and full of unspoken gratitude.

the kiss was a sweet balm for the guilt that gnawed at his conscience. the warmth of your lips against his, the softness of your touch, was a stark contrast to the cold reality of his actions. as you pulled back, your eyes sparkled with happiness, and you looked at him with a smile that made his heart ache even more.

the newfound wealth had transformed your lives in ways you hadn't imagined. the pile of cash had grown, and with it, your ability to enjoy luxuries that had once seemed out of reach. taehyung’s resolve had hardened, each task he completed bringing more money and a temporary sense of relief, though the weight of his actions never fully left him.

one evening, you both decided to escape the confines of your trailer and immerse yourselves in the vibrant nightlife of the city. you donned a stunning dress that clung to your curves, the fabric shimmering under the club’s lights. the sight of you in that dress took taehyung’s breath away, momentarily erasing the persistent shadows of guilt that lingered in his mind. the club was a pulsating sea of lights and sounds, and as you stepped inside, the energy of the place seemed to envelop you both.

he led you to the bar, where the drinks flowed freely. you both ordered a round of cocktails, the vibrant colors of the drinks reflecting the thrill of the night. the alcohol quickly took effect, loosening inhibitions and heightening the euphoria of the evening. you and him shared a joint between sips of your drinks, the marijuana mixing with the alcohol to create a heady combination that made everything feel more vivid, more intense.

as the night progressed, you found yourselves on the dance floor, bodies pressed together as the music thrummed around you. the rhythm of the beats seemed to synchronize with your racing heart, and his hands roamed over your body, his touch electrifying.

in a corner of the club, away from prying eyes, you both lost yourselves in each other. the thrill of the evening, the high from the drinks and drugs, made every touch feel more passionate, every kiss more intense. taehyung pulled you close, his lips meeting yours in a heated kiss. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own private bubble of lust and desire.

as your hands tangled in his hair, the moment was abruptly interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone. he pulled away, frustration etched on his face as he glanced at the screen.

“sorry, i need to check this,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “i’ll be right back.” you nodded, your eyes still hazy with intoxication and desire. “i’ll be in the bathroom,” you replied, already swaying slightly as you headed toward the restroom.

taehyung stepped outside into the cool night air, the vibrant sounds of the club fading behind him. he pulled out his phone and checked the new messages from the contact. the screen displayed the terse instructions: another job. target is at the old warehouse near the docks. same procedure as before. “don’t leave until it’s done. payment will be transferred upon completion.”

his heart raced, a mixture of dread and resignation settling in. he read the message several times, the words echoing ominously in his mind. absentmindedly, he tossed his phone back onto the table as he walked into the sanctuary of the club, feeling a pang of anxiety as he headed toward the designated location. in his haze of guilt and inebriation, taehyung failed to register where he had left his phone.

the warehouse was an imposing structure, its silhouette dark and foreboding against the night sky. he approached it with a sense of grim determination. the job had become a grim routine, but the stakes were high, and the thought of losing you kept him focused. the target, a blond man with a sullen expression, was supposed to be waiting at the rear of the warehouse. taehyung moved silently through the shadows, the weight of the gun in his hand a constant reminder of the gravity of his actions. his breaths came in shallow, anxious puffs as he neared the spot.

he spotted the target standing alone, seemingly unaware of the imminent danger. his mind was clouded with a mixture of guilt and resolve. he took a deep breath, raising the gun with a practiced steadiness. the silencer on the end of the barrel made the shot almost imperceptible. the man fell with a quiet thud, the finality of the action sinking deep into his conscience. he stood over the body, his heart pounding in his chest. he had completed another job, but the weight of each act grew heavier.

the dim light of the trailer was a definite contrast to the pulsating energy of the club. taehyung stumbled through the door, his thoughts still clouded by the night’s grim tasks. he expected to find you in the soft glow of the trailer’s modest lighting, perhaps waiting for him with a tired smile. instead, he was met with a scene that made his heart drop.

you were seated on a chair, your body clad in nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. the cigarette in your hand was a small, glowing ember in the dark room. an angry expression marred your usually serene face, your eyes narrowed as you glared at him. on the table beside you lay his phone, its screen dark but unmistakably present. his heart raced as he saw the phone. panic surged through him; he had left it at the club, and now the possibility of someone discovering his secret was all too real. his mind raced through the implications, the potential fallout from such a careless mistake.

“hey, i—” taehyung began, trying to muster a calm demeanor, but his voice faltered as he saw your fuming expression. without a word, you stood up, the cigarette burning down in your hand. in a sudden burst of fury, you grabbed an ashtray from the table and hurled it at him. the ceramic object shattered against the wall, a sharp crack that echoed through the trailer.

“where the fuck have you been?” you screamed, your voice cracking with anger and frustration. “you think you can just disappear and leave me here? what are you doing with your life, taehyung? how could you be so careless?” he took the hits, his heart sinking with every accusation. he tried to explain, to offer some semblance of a reason, but the words caught in his throat. your anger was raw, unrestrained, and each word was a painful reminder of the lies and deceit he had spun.

you pounded at his chest with your fists, each blow a physical manifestation of your hurt and betrayal. tears streamed down your face, mingling with the smoke of the cigarette and the remnants of shattered ceramic.

“you promised me a future,” you yelled through your tears. “a real future, not this shit. i trusted you, and now look at what you’ve done. you’ve thrown it all away.”

he stood there, taking every blow, his own anger and guilt simmering just beneath the surface. he wanted to explain, to tell you the truth, but the weight of his actions and the fear of losing you held him back. when you finally seemed to lose the strength to continue, your energy spent from the outburst, he gently took your wrists in his hands. he cupped your tear-streaked cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the anger of moments before.

“please, don’t cry,” he said softly, his voice trembling with emotion. “i’m so sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen. i thought i was doing what i needed to for us.” in that fragile moment, as he wiped away your tears, there was a flicker of the love that had once been so strong between you. it was a bittersweet reminder of the bond you had shared, now tainted by the darkness of his choices.

“i know I’ve made mistakes,” he continued, his voice cracking. “i’ll stop. i’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.” you looked at him, the pain in your eyes mixing with a deep sadness. the promise, though heartfelt, came too late. the trust that had once been the foundation of your relationship had been shattered, and no amount of apologies could mend it.

“i can’t do this anymore,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i can’t keep living like this. i need to move on.” the words hit him like a physical blow. the reality of what you were saying sank in, the finality of it almost unbearable. he had lost his way, and in doing so, had lost you as well.

you stood up, your movements slow and deliberate as you gathered the few belongings you had brought with you into the trailer. he watched in silent despair as you prepared to leave, the weight of his actions heavy on his shoulders. with one last glance at him, you headed for the door, the finality of your departure echoing through the small trailer. taehyung stood there, rooted to the spot, as the door closed behind you. the silence that followed was deafening, the contrast to the chaos and noise of the night before brutal. he sank down into a chair, the trailer now feeling colder and emptier than it had before. the money that had once seemed like a lifeline now felt like a curse, a reminder of the price he had paid for the love he had tried so desperately to save. the guilt and regret gnawed at him, a relentless reminder of the choices he had made and the love he had lost.

hours turned into days, and days into weeks. the morning light seeped through the thin curtains of the trailer, casting a dull glow over the room. taehyung woke up with a groan, his head throbbing from a night of excessive drinking and numbing escapism. the bed, once a place of shared intimacy and warmth with you, was now a chaotic mess of discarded clothing and bodies. girls he had picked up the previous night were sprawled across the sheets, their disheveled appearances a stark contrast to the sophisticated allure they had once possessed.

as his eyes adjusted to the light, he took in the scene around him. the sight of the girls, their faces smeared with traces of makeup and their bodies intertwined in careless abandon, ignited a wave of anger and frustration. the once comforting space now felt suffocating, a constant reminder of the emptiness that had replaced your presence.

the more he stared at them, the angrier he became. the room, filled with the remnants of last night’s indulgence, was a stark reminder of his failed attempts to drown out the pain of your departure. the girls, oblivious to the storm raging inside him, began to stir and stretch, their groggy movements only serving to heighten his irritation. “get up,” his voice cracked with raw, unfiltered rage as he erupted, startling the girls awake. “get the fuck out of my house.”

their eyes widened in alarm as they scrambled to gather their belongings, their earlier flirtatiousness replaced by fear. his anger seemed to seep into every corner of the room, turning it into a battleground of shattered emotions. the girls, now fully awake and realizing the gravity of the situation, hurriedly dressed, their movements frantic and disorganized. “just fucking leave,” he continued to yell, his voice echoing with a mix of fury and despair. “get the fuck out!”

in his rage, he grabbed a handful of cash from the bedside table and tossed it at them with a disdainful flick of his wrist. the money scattered across the floor, a pathetic attempt to buy their silence and expedite their departure. the girls, frightened and desperate to escape, hurried out of the trailer, their footsteps echoing in the silence that followed.

with a final, disgusted glance at the remnants of his night, taehyung stumbled into the bathroom, the weight of his anger and regret pressing down on him. he clutched a half-empty beer in his hand, the liquid sloshing around as he moved. the familiar smell of stale alcohol and smoke mixed with the growing stench of his own self-loathing. he staggered to the toilet, the room spinning around him as he dropped to his knees. the beer, once a source of temporary solace, now felt like a heavy burden. with a groan, he leaned over the toilet and emptied the contents of his stomach, his body convulsing with each heave. the vomit splashed into the bowl, a sickly mix of alcohol and regret.

as he retched, memories of you flooded his mind. your laughter, your touch, the warmth of your presence—everything that had made the trailer feel like a home now felt like a cruel joke. the more he thought about you, the more intense his anguish became. the trailer, the money, the meaningless encounters with strangers—it was all a desperate attempt to fill the void you had left behind, but nothing could replace the love he had lost. hia sobs mingled with the sound of his heaving stomach, each wave of nausea accompanied by a wave of grief. he clutched the side of the toilet, his knuckles white as he gripped the porcelain. The bathroom, with its harsh lighting and grimy surfaces, seemed like a fitting backdrop for his misery.

the club was a chaotic symphony of flashing lights, pulsing beats, and a haze of cigarette smoke. the air was thick with the scent of perfume and alcohol, blending together into an intoxicating mix that mirrored the chaotic state of your mind. the music, a relentless beat that throbbed through the crowd, seemed to synchronize with the erratic rhythm of your heart.

you stood at the center of the dance floor, your body moving to the rhythm with a wild abandon that belied the storm of emotions swirling inside you. the scandalous dress you wore clung to your form, its shimmering fabric catching the strobe lights and casting an alluring glow around you. in one hand, you clutched a bottle of alcohol, its contents sloshing with each movement, the liquid serving as both a shield and a source of fleeting comfort. the crowd around you was a blur of faces and bodies, their movements a stark contrast to your own. you danced with an intensity that seemed to cut through the noise, each gyration and twist a desperate attempt to drown out the ache that had settled in your chest. the bottle was a constant companion, its alcohol providing a temporary numbness that barely masked the pain beneath.

a man, drawn to your wild energy and provocative presence, approached you with a confident stride. his eyes, glazed with a mixture of desire and intoxication, locked onto you as he slid up beside you, his hand grazing your waist. he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered something you barely registered. in a haze of alcohol and frustration, you allowed him to pull you closer. his lips met yours in a fierce, hungry kiss, a collision of heat and desperation. for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the sensation of his lips against yours and the pounding music in the background.

the kiss was an escape, a fleeting moment of physical connection that offered a temporary reprieve from the turmoil inside you. but as quickly as it had begun, it ended. you pushed him away with a sudden, forceful shove, your movements fueled by an intense need to escape. the man stumbled back, a mixture of surprise and frustration on his face, but you paid him no mind.

staggering slightly, you turned away from him, your mind already drifting back to the person you were trying so desperately to forget. you took a deep swig from the bottle, the sharp burn of the alcohol a harsh reminder of your own self-destructive behavior. the familiar taste was a bitter echo of the solace you sought in these fleeting encounters, and it did little to quell the ache that lingered.

as you made your way through the crowd, weaving through the sea of bodies, you felt a growing sense of disorientation. the music, once a driving force, now felt like a relentless hammer pounding against your temples. the flashing lights blurred together, creating a disorienting kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to mock your attempts at escape. you found a quieter corner of the club, a place where the noise was muffled and the crowd was thinner. leaning against a wall, you took another swig from the bottle, the alcohol providing a temporary sense of detachment. your mind, however, remained stubbornly focused on taehyung. memories of him, of the life you had shared, seemed to surface with every beat of the music.

the more you tried to push those thoughts away, the more insistent they became. you remembered the way his eyes would light up when he saw you, the feel of his arms around you, the whispered promises that had once held so much meaning. the more you thought about it, the more you realized that no amount of alcohol or temporary pleasure could fill the void left by his absence.

the neon lights of the club pulsed with an unrelenting rhythm, casting their garish hues across the dance floor and illuminating the chaotic swirl of bodies. taehyung, his mind clouded by both alcohol and tumultuous emotions, entered the club with a sense of purpose. the disarray of his recent days had driven him to seek solace in the place that had become both his refuge and his prison.

he moved through the crowd with a determined stride, pushing past clusters of revelers and navigating through the maze of flashing lights and pounding beats. the bar was his first stop, and he ordered a drink with a brusque wave of his hand, the bartender quickly handing him a glass of amber liquid that he downed in one swift motion. the alcohol burned its way down his throat, offering a fleeting sense of numbness as he leaned against the bar.

as he surveyed the scene before him, a girl, with eyes full of want and an expression of flirtatious intent, approached him. she pressed against him, her hands wandering over his chest with a practiced ease. for a moment, he allowed himself to be swept along by the physical distraction, his thoughts momentarily diverted from the pain that gnawed at him. but then, he caught sight of you.

you were at the heart of the dance floor, your body moving with a sensual abandon that caught his breath. the dress you wore shimmered under the lights, its scandalous cut accentuating every curve as you danced, your movements a tantalizing blend of freedom and desperation. your eyes were glazed, your expression a mask of fleeting enjoyment that did little to hide the underlying turmoil.

in a sudden burst of clarity, taehyung shoved the girl away from him, his face contorted with frustration and heartbreak. “get the fuck off,” he snapped, his voice harsh and unyielding. the girl looked startled and taken aback but quickly retreated, her attempt at flirtation now nothing more than a distant try. his gaze locked onto yours across the dance floor. time seemed to stretch and distort as your eyes met. In that moment, the cacophony of the club faded into a distant hum, leaving only the silent, heavy weight of unspoken emotions. the sight of you, so close yet so unreachable, twisted at his heart.

he watched as you reached for another swig from your bottle, the movement almost mechanical. your eyes, once filled with fiery intensity, now seemed empty and distant. the sight of your distress, the way you seemed to force yourself to look away, cut deep into him. he felt a pang of regret, a profound sorrow that made him wish he could turn back time.

he stood there, helpless, as another girl approached him, her demeanor flirtatious and uninviting. “you look like you could use some company,” she said, her voice soft and inviting. taehyung barely glanced at her, his eyes still fixed on you. “fuck off,” he muttered, his tone cold and dismissive. the girl, recognizing the finality in his voice, backed away, her interest swiftly extinguished.

seeing the rejection unfold, you felt a sudden surge of courage and staggered over to him, the alcohol making your movements unsteady. his eyes widened in surprise as you approached, the distance between you shrinking with each hesitant step you took.

“taehyung,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. tears began to flow freely down your cheeks as you reached him. “taehyung, i love you.” his heart ached at the sight of your tears, the raw emotion in your voice striking a chord deep within him. without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. the warmth of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, offered a balm to the turmoil you both felt.

“i love you too,” he whispered into your hair, his voice choked with emotion. He cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that stained your cheeks. his kiss was tender and full of longing, a promise of the love that had never truly faded. as you both held each other, the world outside the club seemed to dissolve into insignificance. in that moment, the noise, the flashing lights, and the chaotic crowd were mere shadows against the intensity of your connection. the promise you made, to make up and find a way back to each other, was a fragile thread that seemed to bind you both in a newfound resolve.

the morning light pushed past the thin curtains of the bed, casting a warm, gentle glow across the room. you woke slowly, nestled in the secure embrace of taehyung, the familiar rhythm of his breathing a comforting reminder of the bond you both shared. his arms were wrapped protectively around you, and the warmth of his body against yours provided a deep sense of solace. as you stirred, his lips brushed softly against your forehead, the gentle kiss a tender greeting to the new day. his touch was light and affectionate, a stark contrast to the tumultuous nights that had preceded this moment. you sighed contentedly, feeling the weight of the past few weeks lift slightly, replaced by the calm intimacy of waking up together.

“good morning,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep but filled with genuine warmth. he tilted your chin up gently and kissed you with a sweetness that spoke of both apology and affection. the kiss deepened, his lips moving with a deliberate tenderness that conveyed his sincere intentions.

“i promise,” he said as he pulled away slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering determination, “i’m done with that life. we’ll find another way. i’m gonna stop answering those texts and demands.” you could see the resolve in his eyes, the genuine commitment to leave behind the dangerous path he had been on. it was a promise of renewal, of building a future together without the shadows of past mistakes hanging over you.

the day unfolded like a vivid dream. taehyung’s reckless driving down winding roads and your laughter filling the car created a tapestry of shared joy and freedom. the wind whipped through the open windows, ruffling your hair and adding to the exhilarating sense of liberation that enveloped you both. the radio blared your favorite songs, the beats and lyrics a soundtrack to your newfound happiness.

in the passenger seat, you leaned in close, your lips grazing taehyung’s neck as you planted soft, lingering kisses against his skin. the sensation of your lips on his neck made him shiver with pleasure, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he navigated the road with an unchecked abandon. “slow down, shit,” you laughed, the thrill of the moment making your heart race as much as his speed. “not a chance,” he grinned back, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and affection. “we’re having too much fun.”

eventually, he pulled up to a secluded spot by the sea, a hidden gem away from the prying eyes of the city. the area was serene, the only sounds the gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the distant calls of seagulls. the sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue across the water and creating a picturesque scene that felt both intimate and vast.

you both stepped out of the car, the cool sea breeze brushing against your skin. taehyung took your hand, leading you down to the edge of the water where the sand was soft beneath your feet. the sunset painted the horizon in hues of orange and pink, creating a backdrop that seemed to mirror the warmth and beauty of the moment. he pulled you close, his arms encircling your waist as he gazed into your eyes with a tenderness that spoke of a deep, unwavering love. you tilted your head slightly, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that was both a celebration of your renewed connection and a promise of the future.

as you pulled back slightly, you looked into his eyes and asked softly, “do you remember our date last christmas?” his eyes softened with nostalgia. “how could i forget? it was magical. i remember everything—how we danced under the stars and how everything felt so perfect.” you smiled, feeling a rush of happiness at the shared memory. “promise me we’ll do it again this christmas.”

“absolutely,” he replied, his voice full of conviction and love. “we’ll make it even more special. i promise.” the promise hung between you like a golden thread, weaving your shared past and hopeful future into a single, beautiful moment. the serenity of the seaside, combined with the reaffirmation of your love and commitment, made everything feel right again.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the serene sea, you felt a surge of happiness that made your heart flutter. the tranquil seaside setting was the perfect backdrop for a moment of connection, and the promise of christmas together only deepened the sense of contentment you felt. deciding to extend the evening's pleasures, you headed back to the car to retrieve a couple of beers you had stashed in the cooler.

taehyung followed close behind, his footsteps light and purposeful, his presence a comforting reassurance. as you reached the car, you fumbled with the cooler, pulling out the cold bottles of beer and feeling the chill of the metal against your skin. the sound of the waves lapping against the shore was a soothing symphony, the only other noise being the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.

you popped the caps off the beers, the familiar hiss of escaping carbonation filling the air. but before you could turn back around, taehyung’s hands settled on your waist, his touch sending a delightful shiver down your spine. the heat of his body pressed against your back was an unmistakable reminder of his closeness, and you felt his breath against your neck as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against your skin.

his kisses were light but electrifying, his lips teasing the sensitive area just below your ear. the sensation was both intoxicating and tender, sending waves of pleasure through you. you felt your knees go weak with his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips as his warm breath mingled with the cool evening air. in your slightly disoriented state, you clumsily dropped one of the beers, the bottle hitting the ground with a muted thud and a slight splash of foam. the other bottle teetered precariously in your hand before you let it fall as well, the evening’s calm interrupted by the clatter of glass and the soft fizz of escaping beer.

turning around with a sudden, almost desperate urgency, you came face-to-face with him. his eyes were dark with desire, and the intensity of his gaze sent your heart racing. without a word, you closed the gap between you, capturing his lips in a steamy, passionate kiss. the kiss was fiery and urgent, your lips moving against his with an unrestrained fervor that mirrored the intense emotions both of you were feeling. the taste of the beer and the lingering sweetness of the moment combined into a heady mix, making the kiss even more intoxicating. his hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer to him, the heat of his touch mingling with the warmth of the evening.

the kiss deepened, each movement a blend of longing and love as he guided you back into the car. his lips pressed against yours with a hunger that was both exhilarating and comforting. his hands slid down to your hips, holding you firmly as the world around you seemed to blur into insignificance. you gasped into the kiss, feeling his clothed dick press against you. he kissed you with the same passion you were used to as you brought your hand up, letting it collide with his face, the way he liked it. the sound sharp in the confined space. taehyung's grip tightened, his eyes lighting up with a feral glint. you'd discovered long ago that little slaps were his kryptonite, turning the sweet, tender kisses into something raw and primal.

he chuckled darkly, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip. “you love fucking me up, don't you?” he whispered, his thumb pushing into your mouth. you bit down, a warning, but he just chuckled again, his eyes flashing with excitement. the air was thick with lust as you both fumbled with buttons and zippers, desperate to be skin to skin. the windows steamed up quickly, obscuring the outside world. there was no one around to see, but the thrill of being so exposed added to the excitement.

his hand found its way under your shirt, his rough fingers brushing against your sensitive skin. you arched into his touch, moaning softly. he pulled away, panting, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached into his pocket for a condom.

“not this time,” you murmured, your voice a challenge. his eyes went wide for a moment before a smoldering look took over his features. he tossed the condom aside, his hand resuming its journey up your thigh. “you're playing with fire,” he warned, his voice low and gruff. but he didn't stop. he knew you were ready for it, happy to take the risk, ready to feel him in a way that was as dangerous as it was exhilarating.

the sound of the ocean was the only soundtrack to your passion as you gave in to the moment, letting your inhibitions wash away with the tide. the salt in the air mingled with the scent of sweat and desire, creating a heady cocktail that intoxicated you both. his hand was rough as he unbuckled your pants, his other hand tangled in your hair, pulling you closer for another bruising kiss. you could feel him, hot and hard, pressing against you, and it was all you could think about.

his fingers slid into you without warning, and you bit down on his thumb to muffle your cry of pleasure. he swore under his breath, his eyes never leaving yours, watching as your pupils dilated and your breath hitched. “you're always soaked for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. you nodded, unable to form coherent words, your body responding to his every touch.

his hand withdrew, and before you could protest, he was pushing into you, his bare length filling you up in one swift motion. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made you see stars. you slapped him again, harder this time, and he groaned, his hips driving into you with an intensity that stole your breath away. “fuck me, taehyung,” you ordered, your voice strained.

he complied, his rhythm relentless, his grip on your hair tightening. the car rocked slightly with every thrust, the leather seats squeaking in protest. the waves crashed against the shore, a tempo that matched the beating of your hearts. dirty words fell from your lips, egging him on, and he responded in kind, his voice a deep growl that sent shivers down your spine. “you love this cock,” he grunted, his eyes burning into yours. “tell me how much you love it.”

you nodded, your voice a breathy whisper. “love you and your cock so much,” you murmured, and that was all it took for him to lose control. his thumb was back in your mouth, choking you gently as he claimed you, his movements growing more erratic. you felt the pressure building, your orgasm approaching like a tidal wave. you could feel him getting closer too, his breaths coming in short, sharp bursts.

his hand slid from your hair to your throat, his grip tightening just enough to make you gasp around his thumb. you bucked your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving in perfect sync. “i'm gonna cum,” you warned, your eyes glazing over. his response was a grunt, his own orgasm close at hand.

the world around you faded away as you both reached the peak of your passion, your bodies shuddering in release. the only sounds were the waves and your muffled cries, the taste of salt and sweat on your tongues. taehyung's grip loosened, his thumb sliding from your mouth as he kissed you deeply, claiming every part of you in that moment.

the days that followed were a tapestry of rediscovered love and intimacy. each morning you woke wrapped in taehyung's arms, each night you fell asleep with him beside you. the closeness you shared was a soothing balm to the wounds inflicted by the trials of the past. life had taken on a renewed sense of purpose and joy, and the days seemed to pass in a blur of shared laughter, tender moments, and the occasional playful argument that only seemed to strengthen your bond.

one particularly afternoon, you found yourself curled up on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket. the sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. your breathing was steady and peaceful, a testament to the calm that had settled into your life since the reconciliation with him.

in the midst of it all, he was jolted from his routine by a sudden, unexpected ding at the door. frowning in confusion, he glanced at you one last time before heading to the door. the sound of the delivery echoed in the quiet space, the door creaking open to reveal a plain, unmarked package on the doorstep.

he picked it up, his brow furrowing in curiosity. he had been diligently ignoring the threatening messages and demands for work, so the arrival of this package was both unexpected and troubling. the envelope, which bore no return address or identifying marks, felt oddly heavy in his hands. closing the door behind him, he carried the package to the kitchen table. he set it down, his fingers trembling slightly as he began to open it. his mind raced with anxious thoughts, wondering if the package was a final attempt at intimidation or something more sinister. as the wrapping fell away, his heart sank into his stomach.

inside the package lay a bloody, mutilated hand. the sight was both horrific and chilling, the blood still fresh and the fingers twisted in a grotesque display. it was clear that this was no ordinary threat—it was a brutal, unambiguous warning. the shock of the discovery left him momentarily frozen. his thoughts were a chaotic swirl of fear and anger. the gruesome token was a stark reminder of the danger he faced, and the brutal reality of the world he had become entangled in. he knew that ignoring the threat was no longer an option, but the thought of returning to his former life, the life that had caused you so much pain, filled him with a deep sense of conflict.

he thought of you—how you had left him because of his dangerous lifestyle, the pain and heartbreak you had endured because of his choices. he remembered the promises he had made to you, the commitment to change, and the joy he felt when you were together. the realization that you were now safe and content, the memories of your recent days together, fueled his resolve. determined not to let this threat control his life or endanger you, he decided to take action. he moved with deliberate urgency, pulling on a dark shirt and grabbing his silencer with practiced efficiency. the weight of the weapon in his hand was a sobering reminder of the violence he had tried to leave behind. but his decision was made—he would confront those who had threatened him and put an end to their intimidation.

before leaving, he took one last look at you, sleeping peacefully on the couch. the sight of your serene face, the way the blanket was draped over you, and the soft rise and fall of your chest made his heart ache with a profound sense of love and regret. he knew that he had to protect you and ensure that you remained safe, no matter the cost. he knelt beside you, his movements gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. Leaning in, he placed a soft, tender kiss on your forehead. the kiss was a silent promise, an assurance that he would come back to you and fulfill the promise of the christmas date you had looked forward to.

“i love you,” he whispered quietly, his voice filled with emotion and resolve. “i’ll be back soon. we’ll have our christmas together, i promise.” with a final, lingering look, he stood up, his expression a mixture of determination and sadness. he took one last deep breath before slipping out of the door, his steps resolute and purposeful. the decision to confront his enemies was a grim one, but it was driven by a fierce need to protect the life and love he had built with you.

his drive to the designated spot was filled with an adrenaline-fueled focus that masked the anxiety gnawing at his insides. the light was dim, the sky a muted canvas of gray as he maneuvered his car through the empty streets. the location provided in the last threatening message was on the outskirts of town, a secluded warehouse area known for its desolate and shadowy corners. the tension in the car was palpable, his breaths coming in sharp, controlled bursts. he kept glancing at the digital clock on the dashboard, the minutes ticking away as he approached the rendezvous point. he mentally reviewed the plan: confront the masked men, eliminate the threat, and get back to you. the sight of the grim package and the thought of you had steeled his resolve, making the danger ahead feel almost secondary.

he arrived at the warehouse district, the large, decrepit buildings casting long shadows over the cracked pavement. taehyung parked the car a safe distance away, his heart pounding in anticipation. he grabbed his silencer and checked the clip of his gun, taking a deep breath as he prepared to face the confrontation.

moving stealthily, he approached the first of the abandoned buildings. the inside was a labyrinth of rusted metal and broken glass, the echoes of his footsteps magnifying the eerie silence. his senses were on high alert, and he soon spotted the first two masked men waiting in the dimly lit room. they were huddled together, their muffled voices revealing their intent to deal with him.

with calculated precision, he aimed and fired. the first shot was clean, hitting its mark with deadly accuracy. the second was a bit more chaotic, but still effective. as the second man fell, taehyung felt a sharp pain sear through his leg. he looked down to see blood pooling around his foot, the wound more severe than he had anticipated. his vision blurred slightly as he stumbled back toward the car, the pain intensifying with each step. he knew he was running out of time and options. his leg was weakening, each step more labored than the last. as he reached the car, he tried to catch his breath, but the pain and blood loss were taking their toll.

he collapsed into the driver’s seat, struggling to close the door. the pain was overwhelming, and he could feel his consciousness slipping. he was barely aware of the shadow that fell across the driver’s seat until it was too late.

a masked man had slipped into the car behind him, pressing the barrel of a gun to taehyung's temple. the man’s voice was cold and laced with contempt. “thought you could run away from us, huh? giving up on the job and all?” taehyung turned his head slightly, his vision hazy and his strength waning. the man’s proximity only made the situation more dire. he could feel the sweat and blood mixing on his skin, the intensity of his predicament pressing down on him like a vise.

“just do it,” taehyung murmured, his voice a strained whisper. “i’m done. i’ve lost.” his words were punctuated by labored breaths and a deep, resigned sigh. the masked man leaned closer, his breath hot and foul against his ear. “you’re weak. couldn’t even finish the job you started. i wonder what your girlfriend would say.”

taehyung managed a weak, defiant chuckle despite the pain. his gaze fell on the man’s mask, and an idea sparked in his fading consciousness. with what little strength he had left, he reached up and grabbed at the edges of the mask. he pulled with all his might, revealing the face hidden behind it.

yoongi's face was emotionless, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. “i always knew you’d be a liability,” he said coldly, his grip on the gun unwavering. “it’s a shame you had to be so fucking stubborn.” taehyung tried to muster a final, defiant gesture, but his body was failing him. with his last ounce of strength, he clung to yoongi's mask, trying to pull it back over his face. he wanted to ensure that the last thing he saw was the face of the man who had deceived him. but the effort was futile.

yoongi, unfazed, brought the gun up with a final, deliberate movement. the cold steel pressed against taehyung’s temple was the last sensation he felt before everything went black. the shot rang out with a sickening finality, the sound echoing through the empty warehouse. taehyung’s body went limp, the life draining from him as the blood continued to seep from his wound. yoongi looked down at the lifeless form with a mixture of cold satisfaction and finality, the weight of the gun heavy in his hand.

the late afternoon sun bathed your trailer in a warm, amber light, casting long shadows across the modest living room. you sat comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, your fingers absentmindedly twirling the two bracelets that you and taehyung had shared last christmas. their delicate metal glinted faintly in the sunlight, a tangible reminder of happier times. the anticipation of reuniting with him for another christmas filled you with a quiet, hopeful joy. the thought of making new memories with him, of celebrating the season together, seemed to promise a return to a simpler, more blissful time.

you were lost in those thoughts, your mind weaving dreams of a perfect holiday together, when the tranquility of your home was abruptly shattered by the sound of the doorbell ringing. the sharp, insistent chime cut through the warm, nostalgic haze, jolting you from your reverie.

your heart skipped a beat, a flicker of unease making its way through the calm. the sound of the doorbell was so unexpected, so out of place, that it sent a shiver down your spine. taehyung had been expected home by now, and the sudden ring of the bell felt dissonant against the backdrop of your daydreams.

you froze, sitting in the dim glow of the room, the blanket clutched tightly around you. a cold unease crept in as the minutes ticked by, the doorbell's chime echoing through the quiet space. each ring grew more insistent, more demanding, until it seemed to fill the room with an eerie resonance.

the thought of answering the door never crossed your mind. a sense of foreboding had taken hold, a gnawing worry that something was wrong, something that you couldn’t quite grasp. you remained seated, the blanket growing heavier with each passing moment, your mind racing through unsettling possibilities. the anticipation of taehyung’s return had shifted into something darker, something uncertain.

as the ringing persisted, you slowly stood up, moving toward the door with a deliberate slowness. every step felt heavy, burdened by an unseen weight. your hand hovered over the doorknob, but you hesitated, the unsettling feeling growing stronger with each breath. the doorbell continued to ring, a relentless echo that seemed to seep into the very walls of your home.

finally, you stopped just short of the door, your heart pounding in your chest. the sound of the bell became a persistent, haunting reminder of something unknown, something you feared to confront. you remained motionless, the door’s ominous presence casting a shadow over your once-cozy haven. the silence that followed the final ring was heavy, pregnant with unanswered questions.

the door remained closed, and the unsettling silence grew thick around you, a palpable tension that gripped the air. you stood there, caught in a moment of eerie stillness, the promise of a joyous reunion overshadowed by a growing dread.

and so, as you waited in the quiet, your mind raced with unanswered fears and foreboding, the doorbell's echo fading into an uneasy silence. the world outside remained just beyond your reach, and the answer to the mystery of the visitor remained tantalizingly, and ominously, out of sight.

✧.*

a/n: whoever guesses which mv this is based on gets a cookie

I just read "Ghost of You" and oh my god. the absolute torrent of emotions that it roused in me was insane. the way you built this fragile world, the amounting sense of safety n comfort, and then that small sliver of doubt that u planted with the mc's ex's appearance.

my take on this is that, grief is a powerful thing. too powerful and maybe mc's suffering was so great that her mind actively sought out ways to comfort itself, one particularly efficient method being deluded hallucinations.

the mention of pills rly got me thinking that is this _really_ reality, that Jimin just appeared like that

my view is that mc's grief led her to becoming unstable and then she had to rely on medication but one day she stopped taking her meds and that took it's toll on her already shattered heart.

whatever it is it was a beautiful piece of writing and thanks for sharing it with us

the way u explored grief was amazing and I'm still left hoping that there were actually fantastical themes involved and Jimin will actually visit the mc again very soon (that it's reality and not some illusion)

this brought me to tears i am so so so happy you liked the story as much as you did and i just had to share this interpretation because you expressed yourself so well. thank YOU for enjoying the piece and for taking the time out of your day to analyze it, your analysis is absolutely spot on. and if you have any requests or criticism or ideas i am always open to them!!! that piece specifically was writen while i was going through some shit regarding jonghyun's death and i wrote it to help myself and others who might need it cope. to anybody out there who is coping with loss and dealing with grief, you are so strong and i am so proud of you. it will get better no matter what. i love and cherish every single one of you. <3

i've come to the realization that my last story depicted self-harm, which may be triggering to some of you, so i'd like to apologize. i'd like to continue by saying a few words, because it's one of those nights and, who knows, maybe someone out there needs to hear it. life is so cruel and yet so fleeting, and we never really know how or what to cherish until it's taken away from us. if you feel that times are rough, that life is putting you through hell, that you're being suffocated and have no other way out, i promise you do. i promise whatever it is that's killing you, ruining your appetite, making you cry, tearing you apart, it will pass. i promise whatever it is that makes you feel like harming yourself will ease the pain, will pass. you were given this life to experience all the good and all the bad, please don't give up just because you've reached the bad. i promise that your ending, too, will be a happy one. i love each and every single one of you. if you feel that your absence won't matter to anybody, you're wrong. it will matter to people you don't even know, including me. so, please, if you're struggling and can't bring yourself to seek professional help, talk to me. i will talk to each and every single one of you, because you all shine brighter than any of the stars in the sky. i love every single one of you.

sorry for getting lip gloss on the joint babe

el dorado (엘도라도) — min yoongi (민윤기)

✧.* 18+

the sun had barely risen, casting its first golden rays upon daegu as you stood on the balcony of your lavish penthouse, overlooking the city. the view was both magnificent and disheartening. from the north, the cityscape gleamed with the brilliance of affluence. skyscrapers glittered like diamonds, their glass facades reflecting the morning light. luxury cars, sleek and polished, glided silently along the pristine roads, while high-end boutiques and gourmet cafés beckoned from below.

yet, beyond the northern skyline, the stark contrast of south daegu lay sprawled in muted colors. there, the city’s essence was raw and unrefined. the buildings were worn and aged, their facades bearing the marks of countless years. streets teemed with vendors selling their modest goods, and the air carried the hum of industrious activity mixed with a tinge of despair. the people moved with a sense of quiet resignation, their eyes reflecting a daily struggle for survival.

in the comfort of your penthouse, surrounded by opulent decor and the finest amenities, the divide between north and south daegu felt as though it was etched into the very fabric of the city. it was not merely a physical separation but an emotional and social chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. you sipped your coffee, the rich aroma filling the air, and contemplated the weight of your father’s legacy and the monumental task ahead.

the less fortunate lived on the other side of this divide. min yoongi's world was a reflection of the south—a realm defined by resilience and resourcefulness amidst hardship. it was in these gritty streets that he had forged his path. his life, a stark juxtaposition to yours, was marked by constant striving for a break from the shackles of poverty. his family’s modest home, with its peeling paint and cramped quarters, bore witness to years of struggle. yet, amidst the scarcity, there was a certain warmth, a community spirit that thrived even in the face of adversity.

el dorado—the very name conjured images of opulence and mystery, a shimmering city of gold nestled somewhere beyond the known maps of the world. in the realm of myth and legend, el dorado was not merely a place but a symbol of ultimate wealth and grandeur. it represented the unattainable dream of countless adventurers, a beacon of hope and avarice that has captivated imaginations across centuries and continents.

visions of el dorado were as varied as they were vivid. imagine a city where the streets were paved with gold and the walls of grand palaces were adorned with intricate mosaics of precious metals. rivers of liquid gold flowed through lush, verdant landscapes, and the very air sparkled with the dust of untold riches. in that imagined paradise, luxury was not an aspiration but a reality woven into the fabric of daily life. the legend assured that only the worthy could come across the city of gold, and you were sure it was your destiny.

the rain fell steadily, its rhythmic patter blending with the mournful strains of a distant funeral dirge. the sky, a dismal gray, wept alongside the mourners who had gathered to pay their respects. the gravesite, a somber and serene expanse, was blanketed by a fine mist, rendering the scene both melancholic and ethereal.

you stood alone beside your father’s freshly turned grave, the elaborate marble headstone gleaming under the droplets of rain. the memorial photograph of your father, framed in an ornate silver plaque, looked back at you with a serene yet distant gaze. his eyes, forever captured in a moment of composure and strength, seemed to echo the weight of the legacy he had left behind.

tears traced paths down your cheeks, mingling with the raindrops as you stared at the photograph. the sight of his image brought a piercing ache to your heart, an overwhelming flood of grief that threatened to consume you. the grandeur of his achievements, the opulence of his life, and the unfulfilled promise of his dreams all seemed to converge upon this solitary moment.

in the midst of your sorrow, you sensed a presence—a subtle shift in the atmosphere. turning slightly, you caught sight of min yoongi standing nearby. he was positioned just a few feet away, his figure slightly obscured by the veil of rain. unlike you, who was consumed by the weight of personal loss and duty, yoongi’s attention was fixed intently on the grave.

he was soaked through, his dark hair plastered to his forehead and his clothes clinging to him in a manner that mirrored your own state of disarray. yet, his focus was unwavering, a silent vigil in the midst of your personal anguish. his posture was rigid, his gaze unblinking as he regarded the headstone, the significance of the scene seemingly etched deeply into his expression. you could not quite discern the thoughts behind his solemn demeanor. his presence, though unexpected, seemed to be an unspoken tribute to your father, perhaps a testament to the respect he had for the man who had employed him. there was no hint of intrusion or disrespect; instead, there was a quiet solidarity in his silence. you couldn't place the look on his face. then again, you didn't know him all that well, having had only one encounter. you removed your gaze from him, your thoughts drifting back to a memory that seemed both distant and vivid.

it was a hazy afternoon, the sun casting dappled shadows on the gentle waves as you slept on the deck of your family's yacht. the tranquility of the boat had lulled you into a peaceful slumber, the soft rocking of the vessel a gentle cradle. the serenity of the moment was abruptly disrupted by a muffled sound, a soft rustling that stirred you from your nap. blinking groggily, you opened your eyes to find the boat's interior bathed in a soft, golden hue from the afternoon light. it was then that you noticed a figure moving stealthily near the scuba gear locker. you immediately recognized him.

he was hunched over, his movements deliberate but not quite smooth, as if he were trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. your curiosity piqued, you sat up, the slight creak of the boat’s deck betraying your awakening. as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, yoongi glanced up and froze, his expression one of startled surprise.

“what are you doing?” you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and mild amusement. the question hung in the air, and for a moment, yoongi seemed at a loss for words. he fumbled with the equipment, a sheen of nervous sweat glistening on his forehead. “i’m just topping off the tanks,” he stammered, his voice wavering. his eyes darted to the empty, wet scuba gear spread across the deck, and a flash of panic crossed his features.

you raised an eyebrow, noting the strange sight of the wet, empty gear. “topping off the tanks?” you repeated, your tone laced with skepticism. “why is everything soaked and empty then?” his panic was palpable now, his usually composed demeanor shattered by your direct questioning. “please, don’t tell your father,” he pleaded, his voice barely more than a whisper. there was an earnest desperation in his eyes that was hard to ignore.

you studied him for a moment, the gravity of the situation mingling with a growing sense of mischief. “caught his employee red-handed,” you said with a teasing smile. the amusement in your voice was barely concealed, and you watched as yoongi’s face turned an even deeper shade of worry. his eyes widened, and he took a hesitant step toward you, his hands wringing together nervously. “i’m really sorry,” he said, his voice strained. “i didn’t mean to—”

seeing the sheer anxiety in his eyes, you decided to ease the tension. “relax,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “i won’t say a word. consider it a secret between us.” a look of immense relief washed over his face, and he let out a soft sigh of gratitude. “thank you,” he said earnestly, his gaze meeting yours with genuine appreciation. “i promise it won’t happen again.”

in that fleeting moment, the air between you shifted. the playful teasing had given way to a quiet, unspoken bond—a shared understanding that transcended the usual dynamics of employer and employee. yoongi’s smile, though nervous, was heartfelt, and it lingered for a moment longer before he turned back to his task, working diligently to restore the equipment to its proper place.

the penthouse, usually a haven of opulence and comfort, felt uncharacteristically hollow as you walked through its vast, echoing spaces. the grandeur of the high ceilings and the sweeping views of the city did little to ease the emptiness that weighed heavily upon you. your father’s presence, once a commanding and reassuring force, was now conspicuously absent, leaving behind a palpable silence.

you wandered aimlessly, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpets that stretched beneath you. each room you entered seemed to whisper reminders of him—the elegant furnishings, the carefully curated artworks, the personal touches that spoke of his life and personality. yet, despite the luxury and the meticulous design, the place felt colder, more distant, without him.

as you moved through the penthouse, you found yourself drawn to his study—a room that had always been shrouded in an aura of secrecy and reverence. it was a place you had rarely entered during his lifetime, a domain reserved for his most private thoughts and intricate dealings. you hesitated before the door, a feeling of intrusion gnawing at you. but curiosity, combined with the pressing need to understand the extent of his plans, urged you forward.

with a deep breath, you pushed open the door, and the scene before you struck you with a jolt. the study was in disarray, a stark contrast to the usually immaculate order that characterized your father's workspaces. the once pristine desk was now cluttered with scattered papers, some strewn haphazardly across the floor. the large window on one side of the room had been shattered, the jagged edges glistening ominously. rain had begun to seep in through the broken glass, pooling on the hardwood floor and mingling with the debris.

you stepped further inside, your heart pounding with a mix of apprehension and determination. the chaos was overwhelming, a physical manifestation of the turmoil that had consumed your father in his final days. you moved cautiously, your eyes scanning the room for any clue that might shed light on his final projects.

approaching the desk, you began sifting through the papers. most were invoices, financial reports, and documents related to his various investments. yet, amidst the mundane clutter, one document caught your eye. it was partially crumpled and stained, its edges rough and disheveled. bold, black letters emblazoned across the top read, “el dorado.”

your pulse quickened as you carefully unfolded the paper. the document revealed an intricately detailed map, its aged surface marked with symbols and annotations that hinted at a journey. the map depicted a labyrinth of rivers, mountains, and dense forests, converging on a central location that was highlighted in a golden hue—a conspicuous nod to the legendary city of gold. as you studied it, the countless stories your father had told you about el dorado surged back into your memory. you had always dismissed them as fanciful tales, embellishments of adventure and myth. the allure of the lost city seemed trivial compared to the realities of his empire.

but now, seeing the map and the evident planning that had gone into it, the fascination with el dorado took on a new, unsettling significance. it was not merely a whimsical obsession; it was a meticulously orchestrated pursuit, a strategic endeavor to uncover something of immense value. the realization dawned on you that your father’s fascination was, in fact, a grand plan—a plan that had been in motion for years, driven by a desire to find the lost city and secure its treasures.

the weight of this discovery pressed heavily upon you. the idea that your father had been so consumed by this quest, to the point of neglecting other aspects of his life, was both astonishing and disconcerting. yet, it also clarified your path forward. the map was more than just a relic of his dreams; it was a tangible link to his legacy, a call to action.

yoongi sat on the edge of the docks, the cool evening air ruffling his hair as he took a slow drag from his joint. the sky was a muted canvas of twilight hues, the fading light casting long shadows over the wooden planks beneath him. beside him, his friend leaned back against a crate, his own joint smoldering between his fingers. the gentle lapping of the water against the pilings below created a rhythmic, soothing backdrop to their conversation.

hoseok broke the silence, his voice tinged with curiosity. “so, now that your employer’s gone—how do you feel about it?” yoongi exhaled a plume of smoke, his expression guarded. he scoffed lightly, not entirely surprised by the question. “don’t joke about it,” he said, his tone more serious than hoseok’s casual demeanor suggested. “the man was alright for a chaebol.”

hoseok chuckled, his eyes narrowing with a hint of cynicism. “they’re all the same, are they not? it makes no difference whether they’re alive or dead. they’ve got their own world, and it’s nothing like ours.” yoongi’s gaze shifted to the water, his attention wavering as he became lost in thought. hoseok, noticing his friend's distracted demeanor, raised an eyebrow. “what’s on your mind, yoongi? you seem a bit off.”

yoongi took another drag from his joint, the embers glowing softly in the gathering darkness. he let the smoke curl around him, his eyes distant. “gold,” he muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper. hoseok laughed, a hearty sound that seemed to echo off the water. “isn’t that what we’re all thinking about? gold’s always on our minds.”

yoongi shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small, enigmatic smile. “gold, the city of gold.” hoseok’s laughter faded, replaced by a look of puzzled interest. “the city of gold? you mean that old myth?”

yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly as he met his gaze. “it’s not just a myth. i overheard him talking about it before he passed. he was obsessed with it, claimed he was close to finding it.” hoseok’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “you’re not serious, are you? that’s just another tall tale.”

yoongi’s expression was resolute. “no, i’m serious. there’s something to it. i’m going to be the one to find it.” hoseok’s skepticism remained evident, but curiosity was clearly piqued. “and how exactly do you plan to do that?”

a smirk played on yoongi’s lips as he took a final puff from his joint, the smoke drifting lazily into the twilight. “the way to a father’s heart,” he said, his tone almost conspiratorial, “is through his daughter.” as the sun dipped below the horizon, the night deepened around them, casting the docks in shadows. the promise of adventure and discovery hung in the air, mingling with the scent of the sea and the lingering smoke. yoongi’s resolve was palpable, his plans set into motion by a mix of ambition and strategic maneuvering. the city of gold was no longer a distant dream, but a tangible goal.

you lay on the couch in your father’s study, the room dimly lit by the desk lamp that cast a soft, golden glow across the walls. the study, once a place of bustling activity and intense focus, now felt oddly still and desolate. the silence seemed to amplify your thoughts, turning them into an echoing din that made it impossible for you to drift into sleep.

staring up at the ceiling, you found yourself lost in the labyrinth of your mind, the weight of your father’s death and the revelation of his secret quest pressing heavily on your shoulders. the map of el dorado, now carefully hidden away, was a constant reminder of the journey that lay ahead—a journey you felt compelled to undertake in his memory.

just as the darkness of the room began to weigh on your eyelids, a sudden crash shattered the stillness. your heart leapt into your throat, and adrenaline surged through you, jolting you into action. you threw off the blanket and forced yourself out of the couch, your footsteps quick and quiet as you approached the source of the noise. the study door creaked as you pushed it open, and you peered into the hallway. the light from the study illuminated only part of the corridor, leaving the rest shrouded in shadow. the crash had come from further down the hall, and you moved cautiously, every sound magnified in your heightened state of alert.

as you rounded the corner, you saw a figure bending over a cluttered pile of papers. without a second thought, you sprang forward and tackled the intruder to the ground, your instincts driving you to protect your father's possessions. the person let out a startled yelp, and in a swift, unexpected move, they flipped you onto your back.

you found yourself staring up at a familiar face, eyes wide with equal parts surprise and disbelief. it was yoongi, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. he was sprawled on top of you, his body tense, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“this is the second time you're breaking in,” you murmured, struggling to regain your footing as you pushed against his chest. he blinked, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find an explanation that would make sense. he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the scattered papers on the floor. “i’m looking for clues,” he finally admitted, his voice a blend of awkwardness and sincerity. “about the city of gold.”

you wriggled out from beneath him, sitting up as you processed his words. “the city of gold?” you echoed, the phrase taking on new significance. “you mean el dorado?” he nodded, his expression earnest. “yes, el dorado. are you familiar with it?”

you met his gaze, your mind racing as you considered the implications. “i am. i found a map in my father’s study. i plan on finding it to honor his memory.” there was a brief pause as the weight of your statement settled between you. yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing his next words. “i wanted to find it too,” he said slowly, his voice revealing an undertone of determination. you studied him, trying to discern his true motives. there was a hunger in his eyes, a drive that went beyond mere curiosity. yet, you were willing to overlook his hidden agenda if it meant achieving your own goal.

taking a deep breath, you considered what your father would have wanted. the thought of working with yoongi, despite the tension and underlying motives, seemed like a practical step forward. he had valuable knowledge and skills that could aid in the search, and his involvement could provide insights that you might otherwise miss. “i think,” you said finally, your voice steady, “that we should find it together.”

he looked taken aback by your suggestion, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. “are you serious?” you nodded firmly, your gaze unwavering. “yes, i am. if we work together, we might stand a better chance of finding it.”

he studied you for a moment longer, his expression a mix of skepticism and intrigue. slowly, a small, hesitant smile began to form on his lips. “alright,” he said, his tone softening. “let’s find it together.” the agreement, though tentative, marked the beginning of an unexpected partnership. as you both stood up and began to gather the scattered papers, the realization of the task ahead settled over you. the search for el dorado would be fraught with challenges, but with yoongi’s help, you felt a renewed sense of purpose.

yoongi’s gaze swept across the study, taking in the chaos that had taken over the room. the once meticulously organized space was now a disheveled mess, with papers strewn haphazardly across the floor and a window shattered, letting in a cold draft. he arched an eyebrow as he observed the scene, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“what happened here?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. you shrugged nonchalantly, brushing a stray piece of paper from the edge of the desk. “i assumed someone broke in. the place was like this when i arrived.”

his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the room, his gaze lingering on the scattered documents. his attention shifted as you approached the desk and opened one of the drawers, pulling out a rolled-up piece of paper with a careful touch. the map was worn but unmistakable, its edges frayed from years of handling. as you spread the map out on the table, his eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “is that really it?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

you smiled, nodding as you smoothed out the creases. “this is the map. the one my father was obsessed with. it’s supposed to lead to el dorado.” yoongi joined you at the table, leaning in to examine the map closely. his fingers traced the intricate lines and markings, his expression one of awe and admiration. “south america,” he murmured, glancing up at you with a look of impressed disbelief.

your satisfaction was evident as you watched him study the map. however, your attention was soon drawn to a piece of paper lying beneath it, partially obscured by the map’s bulk. the paper was covered in scribbles and notes, and yoongi’s eyes fell on it, scrutinizing the words written in a frantic scrawl. “tocord ele boosin,” he read aloud, his brows furrowing in confusion as he deciphered the jumbled letters.

you scanned the same paper, noting the erratic handwriting and the repeated name. “it seems like a display of a meltdown,” you said, your tone nonchalant. “my father must have been trying to piece something together, but it looks like he lost control.” yoongi shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the paper. “no, this address looks familiar. i’ve seen it before.”

you turned to him, intrigued by his sudden revelation. “really? where?” his gaze sharpened as he tried to recall the information. his eyes widened as he connected the dots, the seemingly random scramble of words taking shape in his mind.

“doctor lee soobin,” he said aloud, the name forming clearly on his lips. a jolt of recognition struck you, and your eyes widened in surprise. “how do you know that name?”

he shook his head, his expression a mix of skepticism and irritation. “doctor lee soobin is infamous in the south. he’s considered a madman by many, but he calls himself a scientist. his research is unconventional, and he’s been the subject of numerous rumors and gossip.” you considered his words, the implications settling heavily in your mind. “so you’re saying my father was involved with this doctor soobin?”

yoongi nodded, his gaze serious. “it’s possible. if this address is linked to him, then it could be a significant clue. he might know something about el dorado or at least be connected to the search in some way.” with the map and the mysterious paper in hand, you and yoongi began to organize the information, your minds focused on the path ahead. the study, once a place of solitude and grief, had transformed into a hub of discovery and anticipation.

as yoongi began to gather his things, preparing to leave the study, you hesitated. the urgency of the moment had given way to a more practical concern. you cleared your throat, trying to mask the unease you felt. “wait.” he paused, looking back at you with a mix of curiosity and confusion. “what’s up?”

“it’s late,” you said, forcing yourself to sound casual. “it’s not safe for you to walk back to the south at this hour. you should stay the night.” his eyebrows lifted in surprise, his expression shifting from confusion to something akin to amusement. “are you serious? you’re offering me a place to stay?”

you nodded, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “yes. it would be safer. i don’t want you risking your safety just to chase after a lead.” his gaze softened, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets with a thoughtful smile. “seems like you just want an excuse to sleep with me,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

you scoffed, a reflexive smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “as if,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. but as you caught sight of his playful grin, you hesitated. “or maybe you’re just looking for a chance to get out of walking back.” he chuckled, the sound a warm contrast to the chill in the air. “well, when you put it that way, who am I to argue?”

he seemed genuinely appreciative, and you could tell he was touched by the gesture. you took a deep breath, holding his gaze. “you can either thank me or leave. your choice.” yoongi’s grin widened, and he gave you a nod of gratitude. “thank you. i’ll stay the night.”

as you prepared the guest room for him, your thoughts were occupied by the unexpected turn of events. the night, once marked by sadness and solitude, now held the promise of collaboration and discovery. you couldn’t deny the strange comfort in having yoongi nearby, and the prospect of working together on this quest gave you a sense of purpose you hadn’t anticipated.

the first rays of dawn filtered through the thin curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. you stirred, blinking away the remnants of sleep, and turned to see yoongi still sprawled across the guest room bed, his breathing slow and even. you scoffed quietly, a mix of amusement and exasperation tugging at your lips. as much as he claimed he didn’t need it, it seemed he did appreciate the comfort of a bed after all.

slipping out of bed, you padded softly down the hall to the kitchen. the house was still, the quiet punctuated only by the soft sounds of your movements. you set to work, the familiar ritual of brewing coffee providing a comforting rhythm. the rich aroma filled the air as you prepared two cups, your hands moving deftly as you thought about the day ahead.

you were just reaching for the ice cream when you felt a presence behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling before you heard the quiet, raspy voice. “do you really plan on having ice cream for breakfast?” yoongi’s voice held a note of bemusement, startling you slightly.

you turned, a small smile playing on your lips as you saw him leaning against the doorway, hair tousled and eyes still half-lidded with sleep. “it’s not ice cream for breakfast,” you corrected, holding up the carton. “it’s called an affogato.” he raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a skeptical smile. “i’ve never heard of it.”

“then you’re in for a treat,” you replied, turning back to the counter. you scooped chocolate ice cream into two glasses and poured the hot espresso over them, watching as the ice cream began to melt and swirl with the coffee. he watched you, curiosity piqued as you handed him one of the glasses. he took it hesitantly, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment before he lifted it to his lips. his eyes widened slightly as he took a sip, the unexpected blend of hot and cold, bitter and sweet, surprising him.

“do they really not sell these in the south?” you asked, taking a sip of your own affogato and savoring the way the flavors danced on your tongue. yoongi shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “no, the best we get is a black coffee. this is different. good different.”

“i’m glad you like it,” you said, warmth spreading through you at his approval. you both sipped in silence for a few moments, the quiet companionship settling comfortably between you. once you had finished, you set the glasses aside and began discussing the day’s plans. the journey south loomed ahead, the thought of it filling you with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

“we need to figure out the best way to get there,” you said, pulling out the paper with the address. “do you know the area well?” his eyes flicked to the paper, and he nodded, a confident gleam in his gaze. “i know it by heart. just follow my lead.”

you handed him the paper, trusting his assurance, and began gathering your things. as you moved around the kitchen, preparing for the journey ahead, you felt a strange sense of calm settle over you. yoongi’s presence, once so enigmatic and distant, now felt like a steady anchor. with your bags packed and the house secured, you both stepped out into the crisp morning air. the world outside was waking up, the city stretching and yawning as it greeted the new day. yoongi glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips as he motioned for you to follow him.

the morning air was cool and crisp as you walked side by side with yoongi, the city slowly waking up around you. the streets were beginning to fill with people, the sounds of daily life rising to a gentle hum. you followed him to the train station, the two of you moving in comfortable silence. when you arrived, he fumbled with his pockets, searching for his wallet.

“damn it,” he muttered, pulling out his wallet only to find it empty. he looked at you with a sheepish grin, “looks like i’m broke.” you couldn’t help but smile at his predicament. “don’t worry about it. i’ll cover the fare,” you assured him, stepping up to the ticket counter and purchasing the tickets.

the train ride south was a journey into another world. as the landscape outside the window changed, you were struck by the stark difference between the two sides. the bustling, affluent north gave way to a more rugged, hardscrabble environment. the buildings were older, many in disrepair, and the people looked worn and weary. it was a side of the world you rarely saw, and it filled you with a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

yoongi broke the silence, his voice low and serious. “you should really talk to the police while you’re here, about your father’s office.”

you scoffed, not bothering to hide your disdain. “i’m well aware someone broke in.” he looked at you, a frown creasing his brow. “you should find out who the asshole is.”

“i’ll think about it,” you replied, your tone dismissive. you could feel his eyes on you, trying to understand your reluctance. he couldn’t quite grasp why you wouldn’t use your influence to get the police to do your bidding, but he didn’t press further.

as the train approached the station, you felt a sense of apprehension settle over you. exiting the train, you stepped into the southern town, the stark reality of it hitting you hard. the streets were rough, lined with potholes and crumbling sidewalks. the people moved with a wary kind of urgency, eyes always on the lookout.

passing by the police station sent chills down your spine. the building was imposing, a reminder of authority and power, but also of the corruption and fear that often came with it. you met yoongi’s gaze, seeking reassurance. “do you know where to find the doctor’s house?” he nodded, his expression serious. “yeah, follow me. watch your step.”

you took in the south, grimacing at just how rough people seemed to have it. the poverty and struggle were palpable, a sharp contrast to the world you knew. the journey to the doctor’s house was a winding path through narrow, crowded streets. the further you went, the more apparent it became just how different life was here. when you finally reached the doctor’s house, you were taken aback. the building was old and beat-up, its once-white paint now peeling and faded. the windows were cracked, and the front steps sagged with age and neglect. it was a far cry from the pristine, well-maintained homes you were used to.

“is it safe to enter?” you asked, eyeing the dilapidated house with suspicion. it looked as though it had been abandoned for years, the once-white paint peeling and the windows dusty and cracked. yoongi chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “when we were kids, we used to dare each other to knock on this door. no one ever had the guts to actually do it.” he saw the grimace on your face, the look of horror that flickered across your features, and laughed. “don’t worry. it’s not as bad as it looks.”

you hesitated, watching as he approached the door and knocked. the door swung open with a creak, revealing the shadowy interior. “see? open already,” he said, glancing back at you with a reassuring smile. you trailed behind him, the wooden floorboards creaking under your feet as you called out, “doctor lee?” your voice echoed in the empty space, but there was no answer. the house was a mess, furniture overturned and papers strewn everywhere. it was clear someone had broken in.

“this is a bad idea,” you started to say, turning to him. but before you could finish, a man tumbled out of a closet, wild-eyed and desperate. he tackled yoongi to the ground, hands tightening around his throat with a feral intensity.

you locked eyes with yoongi, his expression shifting from surprise to helplessness under the man’s strangling grip. your heart raced, and you frantically looked around for something to help. spotting a crowbar on the floor, you grabbed it and swung at the man’s head. the blow wasn’t enough to kill him, but it was enough to loosen his grip.

yoongi pulled himself free and pinned the man down as he thrashed. you approached cautiously, meeting the man’s fearful gaze as you crouched beside him. “i’m (y/n) (l/n),” you said, your voice steady as you showed him the letter you had found in your father’s study. the man stopped thrashing, his eyes widening. “are you—his daughter?”

you nodded, and yoongi loosened his grip as the man calmed down. “my father recently passed away,” you said, pausing to steady your voice. “i’m here on his behalf, for the city of gold.”

the man sighed, gesturing to the trashed room. “as you can see, i’ve had a few uninvited visitors.” you nodded, feeling a pang of empathy. “my father’s study was broken into as well.”

he gestured for you both to take a seat, offering you cups of water. “were you friends with my father?” you asked, curiosity tinged with sadness. he scoffed, a bitter smile curling his lips. “we were, until money got the better of one of us.” he paused, noticing your discomfort. “though i regret not attending his funeral.”

yoongi cut through the tension. “so, where do we go from here?” the doctor analyzed the letter, his eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. “you have the map, so you’re more than close to the gold. all you need now is the gnomon.”

you frowned, puzzled. “what are you talking about?” he leaned forward, his expression serious. “the map is nothing but a guide to the temalacatl. the gnomon, if found, comes with a translation. once placed on the temalacatl, if the timing is right and the moon hits it, the final clue to el dorado is revealed.”

you and yoongi exchanged stunned glances. “how do we get the gnomon?” he asked. the doctor leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. “in the south’s museum. the gnomon is one of the artifacts. no one has suspected it to be a clue, but rather a display of el dorado’s existence.”

you turned to yoongi, your mind racing. “how do we get it?” he shrugged, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “you have money, just buy your way in.”

you sneered at his teasing, but before you could retort, the doctor cut in. “no amount of money could match its value. your best bet is to break in,” he paused to adjust his glasses. “i have a friend who monitors the cameras, someone who owes me a favor. he’ll turn a blind eye.”

you smiled, feeling a step closer to your goal. “thank you,” you said, gratitude coloring your voice. “be careful,” the doctor warned, his eyes serious. “this journey is more dangerous than you can imagine.”

with renewed determination, you and yoongi left the doctor’s house, your minds set on the path ahead. the stakes were higher than ever, but you felt a sense of purpose guiding you. the city of gold was within reach. you trailed after yoongi, watching him closely as he navigated the streets with ease. he suddenly changed direction, and you couldn’t help but ask, “aren’t we going to the museum?”

he shook his head, his expression serious. “we need to go to the police now.” you rolled your eyes. “it’s no big deal, yoongi.”

he stopped, turning to face you with a look of determination. “after seeing the pattern in the doctor’s house, it’s too dangerous not to. we can’t take any chances.” you sighed, accepting defeat. there was no arguing with him when he had that look in his eyes. “fine.”

you followed him back to the border, the path to the police station feeling longer and more daunting with each step. as you approached the building, a sense of dread settled in your stomach. yoongi noticed your hesitation and opened the door for you, his presence a small comfort. the room fell silent as you entered, all eyes turning towards you. the heavy atmosphere was suffocating. then, you locked eyes with him. his gaze was icy as it settled on yoongi, a cold glare that sent shivers down your spine.

“what are you doing here?” jungkook’s voice was laced with hostility. yoongi turned to you, confusion evident on his face. you took a deep breath, deciding to break the tension. “this is yoongi, my friend. and yoongi, this is jungkook, my ex-boyfriend.”

jungkook’s displeasure was palpable, but so was yoongi’s. the air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. you cleared your throat, trying to diffuse the situation. “we’re here to report a break-in.” jungkook looked shocked, his cold demeanor softening slightly. “why didn’t you come in sooner?”

you shrugged, attempting to downplay the situation. “i thought it was no big deal.” he sighed, frustration mingling with concern. “it’s always because of the gold, isn’t it?” he shook his head before saying, “i’ll report it further.”

you turned to leave, but jungkook grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. yoongi’s eyes narrowed, his stance becoming protective. “be careful,” he said, his voice softer, a hint of the old familiarity breaking through his stern facade. you met his gaze, your heart aching with the weight of the past. “you too, jungkook.”

you and yoongi left the police station, the tension from the encounter lingering in the air. he remained silent, his mind clearly preoccupied. you walked side by side, the city’s noise fading into the background as your thoughts consumed you. “ex-boyfriend?” he finally asked, his voice gentle. you nodded, though the encounter had left you rattled. “dad forced us to break up, long time ago,” you paused to smile, but there wasn't a trace of humor on your face. “didn't approve of him being from the south.”

your words seemed to be a reminder to him, one that made his gaze harden and his throat close up. one that told him—no matter how close you were, no matter how nice you were to him, you would still be different at the end of the day. you would be the one with money and food on a silver platter, while he would be absolutely no one.

the two of you headed back in the right direction, the urgency of your mission weighing heavily on your minds. you turned to him, breaking the silence. “it’s too early to break in,” you said thoughtfully. he nodded, considering your words. “do you have any suggestions?”

you paused, your eyes drifting over his attire. his clothes made it painfully obvious that he was from the south. a smile tugged at your lips as an idea formed. “there’s no way you’re gonna blend in dressed like that.” his eyes widened, a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “what are you on about?”

you took his hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you. “point me to the nicest clothing store you know. i’ll be your sugar mommy for the week.” he looked defeated, a sigh escaping his lips. “i can’t believe you’re gonna customize me.”

feigning offense, you raised an eyebrow. “are you so against being my barbie doll?” he feigned sympathy, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “i assure you, i’ll be the perfect lab rat.”

you pulled him into the most expensive store you could find, which was a challenge in itself given the area. the saleswoman looked stunned as you entered, her professional demeanor momentarily slipping. “what can i help you with?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. beaming, you placed your credit card on the table. “bring out your most expensive attire for my good friend here.” she looked delighted, probably not used to customers willing to spend so much money. “of course,” she agreed eagerly, glancing at yoongi with a gleam in her eye.

you sat on the plush couch in the waiting area, enjoying the luxurious surroundings. yoongi’s look of betrayal made you smile. the first outfit he tried on was a sleek black suit with a narrow tie. you shook your head, unable to suppress a chuckle. “too funeral director.” next, he stepped out in a flamboyant red ensemble, complete with a matching hat. you winced, struggling to keep a straight face. “too circus ringmaster.”

the third outfit was a gaudy, bedazzled jacket and pants combo that sparkled under the store’s lights. you laughed outright, shaking your head. “elvis, can i get an autograph?” his expression was a mix of exasperation and amusement, but he finally emerged in a classic, well-tailored navy suit that fit him perfectly. you stepped forward, adjusting his tie with a satisfied smile. “now, this is perfect.”

he smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “glad to hear it, because it’s my turn to customize you.”

your turn to look mortified, you opened your mouth to protest but he was already leading you to the women’s section. the first outfit he chose was a frilly pink dress that made you look like a cake topper. he grinned as he saw your expression. “my little pony, where've you been?” you nodded, rolling your eyes. the next outfit was a tight leather ensemble that made you feel like a character in a spy movie. “too dominatrix,” he remarked with a smirk.

the third was an extravagant, sequined gown that you could barely move in. “too disco ball,” he said, laughing at your discomfort. finally, you stepped out in a simple, elegant dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. his eyes widened, and he stared at you, stunned. “you look stunning.”

blushing under his intense gaze, you mumbled a thank you. you paid for the outfits, the saleswoman’s eyes gleaming with delight at the hefty commission she’d just earned. as you left the store, you couldn’t help but feel a newfound confidence in your new attire, matching yoongi’s sophisticated look.

he looked around, assessing the bustling streets, then turned to you. “it’s still too early for anything,” he said thoughtfully. you glanced at him, reminding him with a gentle smile, “you didn’t have anything for breakfast. how about lunch?”

he hesitated, a tinge of guilt in his eyes. “i feel bad for leeching off you.” taking his hand, you squeezed it reassuringly. “we’re working together, aren’t we?” his heart fluttered at your touch and words, an unwelcome reminder of the emotions he tried to suppress. he hated how he felt, knowing there was no logical reason for his heart to react this way. you were out of his league, a fact he couldn’t forget.

you both opted for a local restaurant, a cozy place with a warm ambiance. as you sat down and began perusing the menu, you couldn’t help but comment, “there really aren’t any affogatos here.” he chuckled, the memory of the sweet taste lingering. “welcome to my world,” he said with a grin. after a pause, he asked, “you promise to make me another one?”

“of course,” you replied, your eyes twinkling. “i’ll make as many as you want.” you both ordered your meals and settled into a discussion about the gnomon. the restaurant’s hum provided a comforting backdrop as you outlined your plans.

“it’s crucial to get the translation that comes with the gnomon,” you emphasized.

he nodded, confidence in his gaze. “that won’t be an issue.” he paused, then asked, “how will we get to south america?”

you smiled, enjoying the chance to surprise him. “i’ll take one of the company’s planes and call the pilot.” his reaction was priceless, a mixture of awe and disbelief. you leaned in, your smile widening. “welcome to my world.”

as the food arrived, you took a moment to appreciate the simplicity and warmth of the place. the dishes were hearty and comforting, a stark contrast to the opulence you were used to. the conversation flowed naturally, a balance of light-hearted banter and serious planning. his eyes sparkled as he spoke about the next steps. “we need to figure out the museum’s security layout. breaking in won’t be easy, but if we time it right, we’ll have a small window.”

you nodded, absorbing his words. “we’ll need to be in and out quickly. any delay could be disastrous.” the weight of the task ahead pressed down on both of you, but there was a strange comfort in sharing this burden. the restaurant’s charm and the simplicity of the meal offered a brief respite, a moment of normalcy in the midst of chaos.

after lunch, you both felt more grounded, ready to tackle the challenges ahead. as you exited the restaurant, the sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm glow over the city. the streets seemed less daunting now, each step bringing you closer to the heart of your mission. he glanced at you, a determined look in his eyes. “ready?” you nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “ready.”

the two of you walked in silence, the setting sun casting long shadows across the city. the south seemed to blend seamlessly with the encroaching darkness, the streets and alleys taking on an almost sinister feel as twilight gave way to night. as you approached the museum, yoongi unexpectedly took your hand into his. startled, you turned to him.

“what are you doing?” you asked, your voice a low whisper. he squeezed your hand gently. “act natural,” he replied, his eyes scanning the area. it was only then that you noticed how many people were around, their movements and chatter blending into the evening’s backdrop.

taking his lead, you relaxed, entwining your fingers with his as you began to circle the park in front of the museum. its grand structure, despite its worn exterior, loomed ahead of you. you locked eyes with the security camera in front and quickly looked away, trying not to appear suspicious.

as the crowd began to thin, you tugged yoongi’s hand and led him toward the museum’s entrance. the lady at the front desk looked up, informing you with a tired smile that they were about to close. you laughed lightly, flashing her a charming smile. “we’ll be out soon,” you promised, pausing to straighten yoongi’s hair. “i just have to show my boyfriend the dead sea scrolls.”

she smiled and nodded, her suspicions seemingly allayed. yoongi leaned in and whispered, “what are you doing?”

“act natural,” you murmured back, trying to suppress your own nerves. suddenly, you heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. before you knew it, he had pushed you into the nearby janitor’s closet. the space was small and cramped, your bodies pressed close together. you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears as yoongi placed a finger on his lips, signaling for silence. his own breath was unsteady, and his face was inches away from yours.

he leaned in closer, his breath warm on your cheek. “are you okay?” he whispered. uou nodded, your eyes meeting his. he smiled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. the closeness was electrifying, your shared anxiety heightening every sensation.

when the lights finally dimmed and the building fell silent, you carefully opened the door and slipped out. the museum, now cloaked in darkness, seemed even more imposing. you began your search, moving stealthily through the exhibits. the shadows played tricks on your eyes, and the vast emptiness amplified every creak and whisper. as you moved through the museum, a sinking feeling of defeat began to settle in. you found nothing of use. but then, yoongi tugged your sleeve and pointed upward. you followed his gaze and saw a narrow staircase hidden in the shadows.

you ascended the stairs as quietly as possible, each step creaking beneath your weight. your hand found its way back into yoongi’s, a silent reassurance. as you reached the top, you both froze. there it was—the enclosure, and the sign reading “kalingo's gnomon.”

a smile of disbelief spread across your face. you couldn’t believe it. carefully, you began working on the enclosure. yoongi kept watch as you bypassed the security measures with trembling fingers. the thrill of the illicit act coursed through your veins, making each second feel like an eternity. finally, you managed to open the enclosure. the gnomon was a beautiful artifact, ancient and intricately designed. hidden inside it was the translation you needed. you held it up triumphantly, your eyes meeting yoongi’s in a shared moment of victory.

but the triumph was short-lived. the distant sound of police sirens shattered the moment as panic surged through you. “that asshole set us up,” he murmured, his voice laced with disbelief.

there was no time to waste. grabbing his hand, you pulled him away, clutching the gnomon tightly. you ran through the darkened halls, your footsteps echoing in the empty museum. the sirens grew louder, closer. desperation fueled your movements. you found an emergency exit and burst through it, emerging into a back alley. the cold night air hit you, but you didn’t stop. you ran, yoongi right beside you, the gnomon weighing heavily in your hands.

the sound of police sirens echoed through the streets, the lights flashing ominously in the distance. you navigated through the narrow alleys, your breath coming in ragged gasps. every corner turned, every shadow passed, you felt the urgency of your escape. yoongi pulled you toward a hidden passage, a narrow corridor between buildings. you squeezed through, the gnomon clutched tightly to your chest. the passage opened up to another alley, and you kept running, the adrenaline driving you forward.

finally, you reached a more secluded area, the sirens now distant. you stopped to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. yoongi was beside you, his own breath coming in heavy gasps. “we made it,” he panted, a triumphant yet exhausted smile on his face. you nodded, clutching the gnomon. “we made it.”

the museum was abuzz with activity, police officers scattered around like ants after a disturbed nest. flashlights cut through the darkness, illuminating exhibits and casting long shadows on the walls. the chief stood in the center of the chaos, his voice a steady bark of commands.

“secure the perimeter!” he ordered, his eyes sharp and uncompromising. “i want every exit covered. jungkook, get up here and find out who’s behind this.” jungkook, who had been examining the front desk, straightened up at the sound of his name. he moved quickly, his steps purposeful as he approached the chief.

“the security cameras were disabled,” he reported, frustration edging his voice. he glanced at the monitors, now lifeless and dark. the chief's frown deepened, but he gave a curt nod. “find out how they did it and who was involved,” the chief instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

jungkook’s jaw tightened as he turned on his heel, a sense of urgency propelling him forward. he moved through the museum with swift efficiency, his eyes scanning for any clue, any sign of who might have been responsible. when he reached the staircase, he took them two at a time, his breath coming in controlled bursts.

reaching the top, he found the enclosure that housed kalingo's gnomon. or, rather, what had housed it. the case was empty, the artifact gone. jungkook’s eyes narrowed as he approached, his fists clenching at his sides. the dim light of his flashlight revealed the remnants of the security system, bypassed with a level of skill that spoke of careful planning. his frustration bubbled over, and he slammed his fist into the nearby table, the sound echoing through the empty halls. he took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. his eyes fell on the empty case once more, and a bitter scoff escaped his lips. he knew who had done this, knew it with a certainty that gnawed at his insides.

“it was you, wasn’t it?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of anger and disbelief. the emptiness of the museum echoed back at him, the silence heavy with the weight of his realization. he stood there for a moment longer, his mind racing with thoughts of you, of how you had outmaneuvered them all. the artifact was gone, and with it, a part of the plan he had thought was secure.

you turned to yoongi, your voice firm yet laden with the urgency of the situation. “we need to go back to the north,” you told him. he arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “why?” he asked.

“it’s too risky to stay in daegu,” you replied. “we need to leave for south america as soon as possible.” he nodded, understanding the gravity of your words. the two of you made your way to the train station, blending into the evening crowd. as you waited for the next train, you pulled out your phone and called the pilot, an old friend of your father’s. you spoke in hushed tones, the urgency clear in your voice.

“can you get the plane ready for tonight?” you asked, the anxiety creeping into your tone. there was a brief pause before the pilot responded. “everything will be ready in an hour,” he assured you. you thanked him and ended the call, turning to yoongi with a relieved expression, repeating what the pilot had told you.

the train arrived, and you both boarded, finding seats near the back. exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, the adrenaline from the heist beginning to fade. you settled into your seat, the rhythmic clatter of the train lulling you into a state of relaxation. before long, your eyelids grew heavy, and you drifted off, your head coming to rest on yoongi’s shoulder.

he stiffened at the unexpected contact, his heart fluttering as he glanced down at your sleeping form. the sight of you sleeping so soundly against him was disarming. he felt a rush of emotions he couldn’t quite name. he questioned his motives—was he really in this just for the money? he needed to be selfish, to think of his own survival, but the sight of you, so vulnerable and trusting, made him feel something far less selfish.

as the train neared its destination, he gently nudged you awake. “we’re here,” he murmured softly. you blinked, disoriented for a moment before reality set in. together, you made your way to the penthouse, your exhaustion evident in every step. he noticed and asked, “are you gonna be okay?”

“i’ll be fine,” you assured him, though your voice betrayed your weariness. as you walked, yoongi’s leg began to nag him, the feeling practically unbearable. he brushed it off, telling you it was nothing. you arrived at the penthouse and discovered that your father’s study remained untouched, the mess from the break-in still present. the police hadn’t been there.

“it’ll be okay,” yoongi said, his voice a soothing balm. you nodded and began packing the necessities. as you did, you took a moment to examine the gnomon. the translation depicted various symbols in an ancient, foreign language, their meanings written beside them: moon, wisdom, light, vision, and finally, gold. the gnomon itself was beautiful, meticulously crafted.

yoongi’s voice broke your train of thought. “pretty, isn’t it?” you met his gaze, his eyes soft and gentle. you smiled, your heart warming. “beautiful,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. with a final look around, you locked up and stuffed the gnomon into your backpack. together, you and yoongi made your way to the runway, the weight of the artifact and the journey ahead pressing on your shoulders. the night air was cool, filled with the promise of escape and the unknown.

as you and yoongi reached the runway, the scene before you was a mixture of mechanical roar and illuminated metal. the plane, sleek and powerful, rumbled softly as if it was eager for the night sky. yoongi's eyes widened in awe, his fascination with the aircraft evident in the way he stared, his expression a blend of wonder and disbelief. the pilot, a tall man with a warm smile and a firm handshake, stepped out from the cockpit. he greeted you with a friendly nod. “good to see you,” you said. “i’m sorry for the late call.”

“it’s no big deal,” the pilot replied, waving off your apology. he then turned his gaze to yoongi, his curiosity piqued. “and who’s this?”

he stepped forward, offering a polite bow. “i’m min yoongi, a friend of hers.” the word “friend” felt strangely hollow to him. he wasn’t merely content with being your friend. he wanted to be more, to be someone who mattered deeply in your life. the pilot didn’t seem to notice the subtext, merely acknowledging yoongi with a nod.

“so, where are you headed?” the pilot asked, checking his watch. you sighed, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. “we’re going to colombia.”

the pilot’s eyes widened slightly. “long flight,” he remarked. “but we’ll get you there. please, board when you’re ready.”

as you and yoongi began to make your way to the aircraft, a sudden, unmistakable wail of sirens pierced the night air. panic surged through you, your instincts kicking in. “hurry,” you urged him, your voice sharp with urgency. yoongi, wincing as his injured leg flared up, struggled to keep pace. you reached out, steadying him as you both hurried up the stairs to the plane. his face was a mask of determination and anxiety, the pain in his leg momentarily forgotten in the rush to escape.

as the sirens grew louder, the police cars drew nearer, their flashing lights painting the runway in ominous hues of red and blue. the pilot, already in the cockpit, began the pre-flight checklist with practiced efficiency. the engines roared to life, the sound growing louder as the plane began its ascent. with a final, frantic glance over your shoulder, you and yoongi took your seats. the plane began to move, its wheels vibrating with the power needed to lift off the ground. the rumble beneath you grew more intense as the aircraft picked up speed, racing against the encroaching sirens.

outside, the police cars skidded to a halt, their occupants scrambling to make sense of the situation. the sight of the plane accelerating down the runway, its engines a symphony of raw power, left them momentarily stunned. the aircraft surged forward, its nose lifting, and with a shuddering roar, it took off into the night sky. the plane ascended rapidly, the lights of the runway and the police cars below shrinking into the distance. the sirens grew faint, the chase turning into a distant echo. Inside the plane, you and yoongi exchanged glances, a mix of relief and exhilaration in your eyes. the weight of the gnomon in your backpack felt lighter somehow, the imminent danger replaced by the thrill of the escape.

as the plane settled into its cruising altitude, the rhythmic hum of the engines provided a steady backdrop to the tense quiet between you and yoongi. the dim light of the cabin illuminated his features, but he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a sharp wince escaping him each time he moved. you turned to him, concern etched into your expression. “what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice laced with worry.

he waved it off with a weak smile. “it’s nothing,” he replied, though his strained tone betrayed the lie. skeptical, you pressed further, and to his surprise, you pushed him back down onto his seat with gentle insistence. “you’re not fooling me,” you said firmly. as you knelt by his side, you began to roll up the leg of his pants. the fabric pulled away to reveal deep, bleeding scratches on his calf. your breath hitched at the sight of the raw, inflamed wounds.

looking up at him, you asked softly, “why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he offered a sheepish smile. “i didn’t want to be a bother,” he said, his eyes softening with a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude.

you shook your head, a mix of frustration and tenderness in your gaze. “you’ve never been a bother,” you assured him. from your backpack, you retrieved a small medicinal kit and set to work. xarefully, you cleaned the wounds, your hands moving with practiced ease. the antiseptic stung, but yoongi gritted his teeth, his eyes locked on you as you worked.

the moment your eyes met his, a fleeting silence filled the space between you. the intensity of his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and you could see the same flutter of emotions reflected in his eyes. the simple act of caring for him felt charged with something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name.

when you pressed a fresh bandage onto the wound, your fingertips brushed his skin lightly. you hesitated for a brief moment before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the bandaged scratch. the touch was soft, and the warmth of your lips left he momentarily stunned. he stared at you, his heart racing, as you pulled away with a smile. “i’m gonna go change,” you said softly, standing up and heading toward the bathroom.

yoongi watched you leave, a wave of conflicting thoughts crashing over him. a part of him urged him to follow you, driven by a desire he couldn’t quite understand. another part cautioned him against it, whispering that he had no right to expect anything more. despite the hesitation, his longing prevailed, and he found himself following you down the narrow aisle.

to his surprise, the bathroom door was ajar. peering inside, he caught sight of you as you began to undress. his breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he saw you peel the dress over your head, revealing your bra and panties. the sight of you, so vulnerable and unguarded, made his pulse quicken. for a brief, uncomfortable moment, he felt like an intruder. the guilt was almost overwhelming. but as soon as you turned around, meeting his gaze with a knowing smirk, all sense of propriety melted away.

“i knew you’d follow me,” you whispered, your voice teasing and confident. his gaze softened as he took in the sight of you. “smart girl,” he murmured under his breath, his voice thick with emotion.

without another word, he crossed the threshold into the bathroom, his intentions clear. his hands found your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you with a desperate urgency. his lips were warm and insistent against yours, the kiss deepening with every passing second. he lifted you gently onto the sink, your body pressed against the cool surface. his arms wrapped around you, holding you securely as the kiss continued. the world outside the small bathroom faded away, leaving only the intimate connection between you two. the air was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and the steady thrum of the plane’s engines, a rhythmic accompaniment to the closeness you shared.

his hands began to roam, tracing the curves of your body as he kissed your neck. you moaned softly, arching into his touch, your fingernails digging into his shoulders. he fumbled with the clasp of your bra, finally freeing your tits to his eager palms. they were soft and warm, and he took a moment to appreciate their perfection before taking one into his mouth, suckling gently. you threw your head back, the pleasure of his touch sending shockwaves through your body. your hands found their way to his belt, deftly unbuckling it as his own hands worked on your panties. the fabric slid down your legs, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

his cock was already hard, straining against the fabric of his pants. with trembling hands, you reached down and freed him, stroking the length of him as he moaned against your skin. he was velvet over steel, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the power he held in your grasp. the need to have him inside you grew stronger with every stroke, your pussy wet and ready. you spread your legs wider, inviting him closer. he stepped between them, his cock brushing against your thigh as he positioned himself.

his hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your face to look at him. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and gruff. you nodded, your eyes locked on his. “yes, yoongi. i want you, all of you,” you whispered. with that, he plunged into you, filling you up in one quick motion. the suddenness of it made you gasp, your eyes widening with pleasure and a hint of pain. he paused, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move, his hips rocking into yours in a rhythm that was as old as time itself.

each thrust was punctuated by a string of dirty words that only served to heighten the intensity. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “you feel so good, baby. so fucking good.” you responded with your own vulgarities, urging him to go harder, faster. the pleasure built in you like a storm, threatening to break at any moment. your breath grew ragged as you clung to him, the muscles in your thighs tightening around his waist.

the bathroom was a cocoon of passion, the only reality that of your bodies joined together. outside, the plane continued its journey, but in that moment, you were both in a world of your own making. he picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more forceful as he approached climax. you could feel him swelling inside you, and the thought of him cumming, filling you up, was almost too much to bear.

as you reached the peak of pleasure, your body spasmed around him, tightening like a vice. he growled low in his throat, his own orgasm crashing over him. he pumped into you once, twice, before stilling, his cock pulsing with release. your eyes met in the mirror, both of you panting and flushed. the aftermath of your encounter was a heady mix of satisfaction and awe.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him deep inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the feeling of his warmth. finally, he pulled out, a trail of cum connecting you both. you watched in the mirror as he tucked himself away, your eyes never leaving his. without a word, he helped you down from the sink, and you stepped into the crumpled pile of clothes on the floor. the moment was raw and unfiltered, and you both knew that what had just happened was more than just a casual hookup. it was a declaration of something deeper, something that could not be contained by the confines of any social class.

as yoongi pulled his shirt and shorts back on, you noticed the shift in his demeanor, a soft, contemplative smile on his face. he crouched down before you, his gaze steady and reassuring. his eyes searched yours with a warmth that made your heart skip. “this was meant to happen,” he said gently, the sincerity in his voice undeniable.

you tugged on a shirt and shorts, trying to compose yourself, but his words lingered in your mind. “what do you mean?” you asked, your voice slightly uncertain as you tried to make sense of the sudden shift in his tone.

with a tender smile, he reached out, taking your wrist gently and pulling you closer to him. you were startled by the sudden contact, but his touch was soft, almost comforting. “you feel it too, don’t you?” he asked, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. a shiver ran down your spine, the gravity of his words sinking in. you understood perfectly what he meant, and the truth was unmistakable. You nodded slowly, your gaze never leaving his.

you then asked, “did you agree to help me because of the gold?” your tone was casual, but there was a hint of something deeper, a vulnerability that you rarely showed. he thought for a moment before responding. “yes, i did,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “but it’s more complicated now.”

his eyes softened, and he took a deep breath. “if you wanted me to leave without a single piece of gold, just to keep you, i’d agree,” he said, his voice steady and resolute. the weight of his words pressed heavily on your chest. the sincerity of his offer was palpable, and it touched a chord within you. without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. this time, the kiss was tender and filled with a sweetness that spoke of unspoken promises and deeper emotions.

his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm, reassuring embrace. his touch was gentle yet firm, as if he was afraid to let go. “i promise,” he murmured into your ear, his voice a soothing balm, “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

as he settled into a comfortable position beside you, his exhaustion finally overtaking him, you couldn't help but be captivated by the serene expression on his face. his fingers, though initially restless, gradually stilled and began to curl around the string of your shorts, his touch soft and almost tentative. it was a small, intimate gesture, one that spoke volumes about his trust and the vulnerability he felt in this moment.

you watched him with a tender smile, your heart swelling with a warmth you hadn't expected to feel. the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply was soothing, and the occasional twitch of his fingers only added to the sense of closeness between you. you reached out with a gentle hand and began to stroke his hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers like water.

the rhythmic motion of your hand on his head seemed to calm him even more, and you could see the tension in his shoulders gradually easing. his face, now relaxed and peaceful, was a stark contrast to the strained expression he'd worn earlier. as you continued to stroke his hair, a sense of contentment washed over you. you could feel the weight of the day’s events lifting, replaced by the simple joy of having him close.

the dim light of the cabin illuminated his features in a soft glow, casting gentle shadows that accentuated his relaxed expression. each breath he took was steady and rhythmic, and you found yourself enveloped in the quiet intimacy of the moment. there was something profoundly comforting about watching him fall asleep, the trust and connection between you palpable.

your own eyelids began to droop as the soothing motion of your hand on his hair combined with the rhythmic hum of the plane. the exhaustion of the day’s events, coupled with the calm of the cabin, lulled you into a state of tranquility. with one last, affectionate brush of your fingers through his hair, you allowed yourself to lean back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand. soon, sleep claimed you as well, your body relaxing into the cushioned seat. the warmth of his presence and the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing created a cocoon of comfort around you.

the jarring sound of the cockpit door sliding open snapped you from your slumber. startled, you glanced around, your heart racing as the plane lurched violently beneath you. yoongi, still groggy, looked up with wide, alarmed eyes as the pilot’s voice cut through the chaos.

“we’re being shot at,” the pilot’s voice was strained but controlled, “we’re heading towards the sea. brace yourselves!”

the words barely had time to sink in before the plane shuddered again, the turbulence throwing you against yoongi. the once smooth hum of the engines was now a discordant roar, the plane tilting violently to one side. the cabin lights flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the aircraft struggled to maintain altitude.

his hand gripped yours tightly, his face pale but determined. “do you remember what i told you earlier?” he shouted over the cacophony. his voice, though steady, betrayed his underlying fear. you nodded vigorously, your own heart pounding in your chest. fear clawed at your insides, but you managed to force a shaky smile. his reassuring gaze was your anchor amidst the turmoil. without a word, he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his warm lips a stark contrast to the cold sweat that coated your skin. “nothing will happen to you,” he promised, his voice low and fierce. “i promised.”

the plane shuddered again, and the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, “prepare for impact!” the words barely registered before the plane began its final, harrowing descent. the cabin filled with a cacophony of alarm bells and frantic shouts. you clung to yoongi as the plane lurched and pitched, the sensation of weightlessness making your stomach churn. he pulled you close, his arms a steadfast shield against the chaos.

with a heart-stopping jolt, the plane hit the water. the impact was brutal, the fuselage groaning and buckling as it collided with the ocean’s surface. water sprayed violently through the shattered windows, the once sleek interior now a scene of disaster. yoongi’s grip tightened around you as you were both thrown against the seatbacks, the force of the crash sending waves of cold seawater surging through the cabin. the cabin lights went out, leaving you in near-total darkness save for the sporadic flashes of lightning outside. yoongi pulled you from your seat, his movements urgent but controlled. “we need to get out!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the ocean and the crackling wreckage.

you both stumbled toward the emergency exits, the plane listing heavily to one side. with adrenaline coursing through your veins, you forced open the nearest emergency exit, the rush of cold seawater flooding in as you leaped out into the chaotic surf. he followed closely behind, his strong arms encircling you as you were both engulfed by the freezing sea. the water was a violent, tumultuous mess, the waves crashing over you with relentless force. you fought to keep your head above the surface, clinging to the debris and floating wreckage that bobbed around you. yoongi’s grip never wavered, his hand firmly clasped around yours as you struggled to stay afloat amidst the disorienting swirl of water.

in the distance, you could hear distant cries and the sharp crack of gunfire, the sounds merging with the roar of the ocean and the wreckage. the fear was palpable, but yoongi’s steady presence kept you focused. you both swam with powerful, determined strokes, using any piece of floating debris as leverage to propel yourselves toward the distant shore. the journey was grueling, each stroke through the water a battle against exhaustion and the pounding waves. every moment felt like an eternity, but his reassuring presence and the glimmer of hope that came with nearing the shore kept you going. the distant lights of the coastline finally came into view, a beacon of salvation amidst the chaos.

when you finally reached the shore, your legs nearly gave out as you collapsed onto the wet sand. yoongi, equally exhausted, pulled himself beside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. his eyes were full of concern as he reached out to brush the wet hair from your forehead. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice strained but sincere. you nodded, the weight of the situation hitting you as you took stock of your belongings. the gnomon, the translation, and the map were still secure, clutched tightly in your backpack. you knew you had to run, that the danger wasn’t over, but for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to rest, the cool sand beneath you a small comfort after the nightmarish ordeal.

the oppressive heat of the jungle enveloped you both as you sprinted through the thick, tangled foliage, the weight of the humid air pressing down on you. the map you clutched in one hand was a precious guide through the dense undergrowth, each step a challenge as you navigated the uneven terrain. the trees loomed like sentinels, their thick branches entwining above you, casting fleeting shadows that danced in the flickering light of the dense canopy. the cries of unseen creatures echoed through the thick air, mingling with the rapid pounding of your heart.

yoongi ran beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven, the adrenaline driving him forward despite the exhaustion. his eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. the map led you through a labyrinth of green, the path seemingly endless as you pressed on, guided by the urgent need to escape and survive.

as the dense forest began to thin, you emerged into a small clearing that revealed a scene both unexpected and alarming. before you lay a group of makeshift cabins, their structures rudimentary but functional, scattered across the clearing. the people gathered there, clad in worn clothing and armed with an assortment of weapons, looked up in confusion as you and yoongi stumbled into their view.

the first shot rang out, slamming into the ground just inches from where you stood. the deafening crack shattered the moment of stunned silence, and yoongi's instincts kicked in. “we need to move!” he shouted, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards a nearby hill.

the shouts and cries in rapid spanish grew louder, and the threat of a fight was imminent. despite yoongi’s desperate pleas to keep running, you stopped abruptly. he turned to you, his eyes wide with concern. “what are you doing?” you reached into your backpack and, to his astonishment, pulled out a sleek pistol. the weight of the weapon was reassuring in your hand, the cold metal a stark contrast to the sweltering heat. as the cries grew nearer, you positioned yourself behind a nearby tree, your focus sharp as you aimed. the first shot echoed through the clearing, and the sound of a body hitting the ground followed soon after.

a tense silence fell, broken only by the distant rustling of the jungle and the pounding of your own heartbeat. the sight of the armed group retreating was a small victory, and you took it as your cue to keep moving. you turned to yoongi, who watched in disbelief as you wrestled with your backpack, pulling out a second pistol and handing it to him. “here,” you said, your voice steady despite the situation. “you’re gonna need this.”

he took the weapon with a mixture of awe and amusement, his eyes narrowing as he took in the situation. he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were from the south.” you couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “that’s funny,” you replied, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “my boyfriend’s actually from the south.”

the comment left yoongi momentarily flustered, his cheeks flushing a shade darker as he tried to regain his composure. you watched with amusement as he stumbled over his words, clearly thrown by your unexpected jest. his flustered reaction was a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere, adding a moment of lightness to the chaos. “let’s go,” you urged him, still smiling as you began to lead the way up the hill. the weight of the pistols and the urgency of the situation kept you moving, despite the lingering laughter and the adrenaline that surged through your veins.

the climb up the hill was strenuous, the incline steep and the jungle’s undergrowth relentless. every step was a struggle, but the sight of the jungle stretching out below you and the promise of safety spurred you onward. yoongi, now more focused, followed closely behind, his earlier embarrassment replaced by a determined resolve. as you reached the top of the hill, the dense forest stretched out before you, a sprawling sea of green that offered both cover and a potential escape route. the distant shouts of the armed group faded, replaced by the relentless buzz of insects and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

the jungle seemed endless, its thick, humid air wrapping around you like a heavy, suffocating cloak. the undergrowth scratched at your legs, and the sweat trickling down your face made each step feel like a monumental effort. the map clutched tightly in your hand felt like it was growing heavier with each mile, and despite the fleeting moments of adrenaline, fatigue began to seep into your bones.

after what felt like an eternity of walking, you finally had to stop. you slumped down onto a large, flat rock, your breathing ragged as you tried to catch your breath. yoongi, equally exhausted, immediately knelt beside you, his eyes filled with concern. without a word, he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water. the cool liquid felt like a balm to your parched throat as he pressed the bottle to your lips, tilting it gently so you could drink.

as you took the water, yoongi’s gaze was unwavering, his worry etched into the lines of his face. once you’d finished drinking, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a firm, reassuring hug. the embrace was warm despite the humid air, a small but meaningful comfort amidst the chaos. “don’t give up,” he said softly, his voice a low murmur against your ear. “remember why we’re here. we’re so close.”

his words, combined with his steady presence, gave you a renewed sense of determination. you nodded against his shoulder, drawing strength from his embrace. with a deep breath, you stood up, feeling the weight of exhaustion but also a spark of renewed resolve. he helped you up, and you both continued on, the map guiding you through the darkening forest.

the path became more challenging as night fell, but the promise of reaching your destination kept you moving. the moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting an ethereal glow on the trail as you pressed on. eventually, the sound of rushing water grew louder, a welcome symphony amidst the quiet of the jungle.

you emerged into a small clearing, and the sight that greeted you took your breath away. before you stood a magnificent waterfall, its cascading waters shimmering in the moonlight. the scene was nothing short of magical. the waterfall tumbled down from a high cliff, creating a misty veil that danced in the cool night air. the pool at its base was clear and serene, reflecting the moon’s pale light.

a smile spread across yoongi’s face as he watched your reaction. “do you like it?” he asked, his voice filled with gentle amusement. you nodded, awestruck. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice filled with wonder. “i remember my father telling stories about a waterfall just like this one. it was part of his tales about el dorado.”

yoongi’s eyes softened as he looked at you, a shared understanding passing between you. the waterfall’s beauty, combined with the shared memory of your father’s stories, made the moment deeply emotional. it was as if the waterfall itself was a bridge between your past and the present, connecting you to the stories and dreams that had driven you this far.

you both set up camp for the night near the base of the waterfall. the sound of the water was soothing, a constant, rhythmic lullaby that provided a comforting backdrop to your efforts. yoongi worked alongside you, his movements methodical and efficient as he helped you arrange the sleeping bags and set up a small, portable cooking area. the familiar routine of setting up camp offered a small measure of normalcy in the midst of the chaos.

as the camp was finally set up, you both sat down on the grass, the waterfall’s mist gently cooling your skin. you looked over at him, who was gazing at the waterfall with a thoughtful expression. there was something profoundly peaceful about the scene, a serene contrast to the turmoil and danger that had marked your journey so far.

you joined yoongi in watching the waterfall, the soothing sound of the cascading water providing a sense of calm. the moonlight cast a soft glow over the scene, illuminating the mist that rose from the pool below. you felt a deep, soothing connection to the moment, a rare opportunity to reflect and find solace in the midst of the ongoing struggle.

as you sat together in the stillness of the night, you could feel the exhaustion slowly melting away, replaced by a profound sense of tranquility. the world felt smaller and more manageable, with the waterfall standing as a reminder of the beauty that still existed amidst the chaos. eventually, the fatigue of the day caught up with both of you. you lay down on your sleeping bag, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you settled into a comfortable position. yoongi lay down beside you, and for a while, you both simply stared at the waterfall, the sound of the water creating a rhythmic lullaby that seemed to echo the beat of your hearts.

the moon’s silvery light filtered through the canopy, casting ethereal shadows across the forest floor. you stirred awake, the intense brightness of the moon penetrating even the depth of your sleep. the waterfall’s gentle murmur was a soothing backdrop as you pushed yourself up, blinking against the stark contrast of moonlight and shadow. beside you, yoongi shifted and slowly roused from his sleep. his eyes, still heavy with fatigue, met yours with a mix of curiosity and concern. you motioned for him to follow as you began gathering your things, the urgency of the quest fueling your movements. the map, now slightly crumpled from its journey, was securely tucked into your backpack, and with a quick glance at him, you headed back towards the trail.

the jungle was even more enigmatic under the moon’s pale glow. the sounds of nocturnal creatures filled the air, their calls mingling with the rustle of the leaves. your steps were careful, the ground slick from the earlier rain, but determination guided you as you followed the map’s instructions.

after what seemed like an eternity of navigating through the dense foliage, the trees finally began to thin out. the faintest hint of a clearing emerged, and you and yoongi came to a sudden halt as your eyes adjusted to the sight before you. there, partially obscured by undergrowth and moss, lay an array of stone blocks arranged in a circular formation. the structure had an ancient, solemn feel to it, with stones arranged in a pattern that suggested a deep significance.

both of you stood in awe. the arrangement resembled a grave—an ancient tomb perhaps—yet something about it seemed to pulse with an undeniable energy. you approached the structure with a cautious reverence, your eyes scanning the weathered stones for any inscriptions or clues.

as you examined the array more closely, your heart skipped a beat. there, in the center of the stone formation, was a circular depression, perfectly sized for the gnomon you had carried from the museum. the realization hit you like a jolt of electricity. this was no mere grave; it was the temalacatl, the ancient aztec stone disk that had been lost to legend. yoongi’s face lit up with a triumphant smile as he moved closer. he pressed a soft, celebratory kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm against your skin. his eyes were alight with the thrill of discovery, and for a moment, the exhaustion and danger of your journey were forgotten in the joy of this breakthrough.

carefully, he retrieved the gnomon from your backpack. with a precise and practiced hand, he placed it into the center of the temalacatl. it fit perfectly, the gnomon slotting into place with a satisfying click. as the moonlight streamed through the canopy, it illuminated the gnomon and the stone disk below, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow. the symbols on the gnomon began to glow with an otherworldly brilliance, casting their reflections onto the surrounding stones. your breath caught in your throat as the illumination revealed ancient glyphs on the temalacatl. the sight was nothing short of breathtaking; the symbols seemed to come alive in the moonlight, their meanings unfolding before your eyes.

“write everything down,” you instructed urgently, your voice barely above a whisper. yoongi, still in awe, nodded and quickly pulled out a notebook and pencil, capturing every detail of the illuminated symbols. as you both studied the glowing symbols, you read aloud the translations of the ones you recognized: “man,” “moon,” “light,” “vision,” “gold.” each word felt like a piece of a larger puzzle falling into place. the symbols began to fade, the light dimming until only the moonlight remained to highlight the ancient carvings.

you and yoongi huddled together, scrutinizing the symbols and comparing them to the translations you had written down. the process was meticulous, each detail requiring careful consideration. the illuminated symbols had revealed a pattern, a message encoded in the ancient language. after a series of detailed cross-references and careful matching, you both reached a conclusion.

he looked up from his notes, his expression reflecting the gravity of your findings. you took a deep breath and read aloud, your voice steady despite the enormity of the revelation: “he who is under the moon needs not light to see the gold.” the words hung in the air, their significance slowly sinking in. the message was clear; it was not the physical light that revealed the treasure, but rather a deeper understanding, guided by the celestial influence of the moon. it was a profound realization, a testament to the wisdom of the ancients and the power of the celestial realm in guiding you to your goal.

“what does it mean?” your question hung in the air, reverberating with a weight you could scarcely comprehend. your heart pounded with the intensity of the revelation, but before yoongi could respond with any further insight, another voice sliced through the silence.

“indeed, tell us,” the voice demanded, its tone cold and authoritative. “what does it mean?”

both you and yoongi turned towards the shadow that had emerged from the dense foliage. the moonlight, once a gentle guide, now cast a harsh light on the intruder. your breath caught in your throat as the figure stepped into the clearing. a tear-streaked smile graced his face, one that spoke of a complex web of emotions—pride, relief, and something else, something darker. he moved toward you with a deliberate calm, his eyes reflecting both sorrow and triumph.

“you did it,” your father said softly, his voice filled with an almost paternal affection. “i knew you would.”

the words, spoken with such a mix of warmth and finality, shattered something deep within you. the emotional dam you had been holding back broke free, and you began to sob uncontrollably. the sight of your father, after all you had been through, overwhelmed you. you stumbled back, instinctively clinging to yoongi, seeking comfort in his presence as the reality of the situation sank in.

your father’s eyes shifted to yoongi, his expression turning to one of cold calculation. “your silence will be well rewarded,” he said, his voice carrying a note of sinister finality.

panic surged through you. “what does he mean?” you asked yoongi, your voice trembling as you turned to him. the realization of betrayal was sharp, the knife of distrust cutting deeper with every passing second. you watched as his face fell, his expression crumpling into one of despair. your father’s gaze remained fixed on you, unyielding. “don’t you know? it took a lot of money to convince him not to tell you about me.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. betrayal surged through you, mingling with your grief. anger and hurt bubbled to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, you slapped yoongi across the face. the sting of your hand on his cheek seemed to punctuate the pain of the moment. his eyes were wide with tears as he blinked them away, the hurt evident in every feature. “i’m sorry,” he managed to say, his voice choked. “i needed you to be safe.” the raw emotion in his voice made you cry harder, unable to calm down. you had trusted him implicitly, and now that trust lay in tatters. the anger slowly ebbed away, leaving you with nothing but exhaustion and a profound sense of betrayal.

your father’s approach was gentle as he reached out to stroke your hair. “i had to leave,” he explained softly, his voice soothing despite the turmoil. “you saw what they did to my study. i knew you would find the trail. i knew you would find me.” tears streamed down your face as his words washed over you, but you didn’t have the energy to resist. the emotional drain of the journey, combined with the shock of his unexpected reappearance and yoongi’s betrayal, left you numb.

“don’t be mad at yoongi,” your father continued, his hand still comforting. “he needed to be someone you could trust to make sure you were safe. it was the only way.”

you watched as yoongi knelt beside you, his face etched with regret and pain. “i’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. “i needed you to be safe. that’s all that mattered to me.” the sincerity in his apology, coupled with the exhaustion that had begun to overpower your emotions, made you too tired to respond. the weight of everything that had happened, from the dangerous chase through the jungle to the heart-wrenching betrayal, had left you drained.

as you followed the map in silence, the air between you was thick with unspoken words. you refused to look at either your father or yoongi, the emotional chasm between you all too wide to bridge in that moment. the forest seemed to close in around you as you walked, each step heavy with the burden of recent revelations.

as you walked through the dense foliage, the tension between you, your father, and yoongi was palpable. the weight of your father's unexpected reappearance, coupled with the sense of betrayal, made each step heavy with unresolved emotions. the moonlight cast a silvery glow over the path, illuminating the scene in an eerie, almost ethereal light. breaking the silence, you finally asked, “how did you know i’d find you?”

your father’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his expression filled with a mixture of pride and affection. “you're my daughter,” he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. “the only one i have. i never doubted you. i always knew you’d find your way.” his words were a balm to your wounded heart, but they also served to deepen the confusion and sorrow swirling within you. you turned your gaze to yoongi, whose face was illuminated by the moonlight, the tear streaks on his cheeks glistening like silver trails in the dim light. his eyes met yours with a mixture of regret and longing, and the intensity of his emotions was almost palpable.

your father’s voice cut through the silence once more. “are you dating him?” he asked, his tone casual yet probing. the question hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound was the rustling of leaves and the distant call of nocturnal creatures. you didn’t respond, the silence stretching into an uncomfortable pause. with a light-hearted chuckle, your father continued, “well, if you are, you have my approval.”

the words, though intended to be reassuring, did little to ease the tension. you remained focused on yoongi, whose silence spoke volumes. the complexity of your relationship with him, mixed with the recent revelations, made any further conversation feel almost impossible.

as you pressed on, you suddenly stumbled across a cave partially submerged in the water. the sight halted you in your tracks, the dim light of the moon reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, casting a shimmering glow on the entrance of the cave. you paused, your heart pounding with anticipation and trepidation. yoongi’s voice broke the silence, filled with apprehension. “is this a dead end?”

you turned to him, a determined glint in your eye. “only if you want it to be,” you replied, your voice steady and resolute. without further hesitation, you stepped into the water, the coldness biting at your skin as you waded deeper.

your father shook his head in disbelief, his expression a mix of resignation and concern. “i won’t make it down there,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. he turned to yoongi, his eyes serious. “take care of her.” the weight of his words settled heavily on yoongi’s shoulders. he nodded, his gaze never leaving you as you continued into the water. the cave entrance loomed ahead, its dark mouth beckoning with a promise of what lay beyond.

you glanced back at him, who gave you a reassuring nod before following you into the water. the chill of the water contrasted sharply with the heat of the jungle, and each step forward felt like a step closer to both resolution and revelation. as you entered the cave, the water rose to your chest, then your neck, and you finally took a deep breath as you submerged, guiding yourself into the unknown depths. the cave, shrouded in darkness, seemed to swallow you up as you swam forward, the sound of your movements echoing off the stone walls. the air was thick with the dampness of the underground world, and the only light came from the faint glow of the moon that seeped in through the entrance.

yoongi’s eyes darted to a narrow, submerged entrance in the cave, partially obscured by the swirling water. he pointed it out to you, his voice strained but determined. “there,” he said, the water dripping from his face and mixing with the sweat of exertion. “that’s our way through.” with a nod, you both dove into the water, the cold embrace momentarily startling you but quickly overshadowed by the urgency of the moment. the underwater passage was cramped, the water pressing against you as you swam with quick, determined strokes. your breaths were short and hurried, the cave’s darkness enveloping you completely.

the tunnel seemed endless, but eventually, you felt your feet touch solid ground. you surfaced, gasping for air, and took in the dimly lit cave around you. the cave's ceiling arched high above, its jagged edges silhouetted against the faint light that filtered through the entrance behind you. the air was cooler there, and the sound of dripping water echoed softly, a rhythmic accompaniment to the anxious beats of your heart.

in front of you was a sheer drop, with a gap leading to another patch of land on the other side. the jump required looked daunting, and the void between you and safety seemed to stretch endlessly. the sight made your heart race with a mix of fear and doubt.

yoongi squeezed your hand, his gaze steady and unwavering. “i know you hate me right now,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “but i need you to know that i love you.” the intensity of his words took you aback. despite the betrayal that still stung, you could feel the sincerity in his voice, and the confession seemed to bridge a chasm of its own. “i love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought back tears.

with a sudden, determined grin, yoongi stepped back, bracing himself. without further hesitation, he took a running leap and soared over the gap. the space seemed to hold its breath as he landed on the other side with a solid thud, his form illuminated briefly by the moonlight. your fear spiked, but his encouraging smile reassured you. “i’ll help you up,” he called, his voice echoing back to you.

you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the jump. with a final glance at yoongi’s outstretched hand, you leaped across the void, your heart pounding in your chest. his hands caught yours with a firm grip, and he helped you scramble up to his side. relief flooded through you as you stood on solid ground once more.

as you both entered the water again, the cold of the underground lake was a sharp contrast to the warmth of your fear-induced sweat. you swam through the dark water, the only sound being the echo of your strokes and the distant, intermittent drip of water. reaching the opposite shore, you were greeted by an oppressive darkness. the cave was pitch black, and the vast emptiness before you seemed to absorb any hint of light. you turned to him, voicing your concern. “it might actually be a dead end,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration.

he shook his head, refusing to give in to despair. “i don’t believe it,” he said firmly. he paused, the realization dawning on him. “he who is under the moon needs not light to see the gold,” he recalled, his face lighting up with sudden comprehension. “needs not light to see.”

your heart skipped a beat as you reached for your backpack, pulling out the waterproof flares you had packed. “three flares,” you said, glancing at him. “twenty minutes each. one hour.” yoongi nodded, his expression determined. “we’ll use them to explore.”

you struck the first flare, the brilliant orange light cutting through the impenetrable darkness. the cavern in front of you came alive with a sudden, warm glow, revealing intricate patterns etched into the stone. the illuminated symbols seemed to beckon you forward, their shapes dancing in the flare’s light as if guiding you deeper into the cave’s heart. the sight was both mesmerizing and exhilarating. the path ahead was illuminated, leading you further into the cave. you and yoongi exchanged a look of resolute determination before plunging into the illuminated darkness, the flares lighting the way to whatever lay hidden in the depths.

the flare’s light carved a path through the dense darkness, guiding you and yoongi deeper into the cave. with each step, the cavern walls seemed to pulse with a golden glow, hinting at the marvel that lay beyond. as you rounded a final bend, the flare’s illumination suddenly gave way to an awe-inspiring spectacle.

you both froze, your breath catching in your throats as the room came into full view. the cavern stretched out before you, a vast, breathtaking expanse of shimmering gold. the walls, ceiling, and floor were encrusted with gold, every crack and crevice glistening with a rich, golden hue. the light from the flare reflected off the gold, casting dazzling patterns across the cavern's surface and creating an ethereal glow that made the entire room seem to pulse with life.

the sight was nothing short of magnificent. you felt as though you had stumbled upon a forgotten world, a treasure trove of immense beauty and unimaginable wealth. gold hung from every corner, cascading in delicate strands, and the floor was scattered with golden relics and artifacts, each one telling a story of a bygone era. yoongi's hand tightened around yours as he pulled you gently into the heart of the cavern.

his eyes, wide with disbelief and wonder, met yours. with a joyous smile, he leaned in and planted a tender, congratulatory kiss on your cheek. “we did it,” he said softly, his voice filled with pride and relief. the words hung in the air between you as you both took in the sheer splendor of the room. it was as if you were standing in the very heart of a legend come to life, the stories and myths you had heard becoming tangible reality. the gold seemed to sing with a history long forgotten, and the room itself felt like a living testament to an age of grandeur.

you moved towards the piles of gold scattered around, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the cavern. yoongi helped you fill your bags with chunks of raw gold, the weight of the precious metal a satisfying burden. each piece you picked up seemed to hold a piece of the cavern’s magic, and the act of collecting it felt like a ritual of its own. as you both worked, you took moments to pause and admire the room once more. the golden light played on your faces, highlighting the awe and wonder in your eyes. It was a place where history and legend had merged into something tangible and breathtaking, a reality that far surpassed any story ever told.

once your bags were filled to the brim with gold, you paused to take one final look at the cavern. the scene before you was so stunningly beautiful that it was almost surreal. you knew you would carry this image with you forever—the shimmering gold, the sense of triumph, and the shared wonder of discovering something so extraordinary. with a final, lingering glance at the cavern, you and yoongi began your journey back. the return trip was a mix of careful navigation and unspoken understanding, both of you focused on retracing your steps through the dark, illuminated only by the faint, dwindling glow of the flares.

emerging from the cave, you were greeted by the cool, crisp air of dawn. the first light of morning kissed the horizon with a soft, golden glow, a stark contrast to the dark, glittering realm you had just left behind. you and yoongi stood at the cave’s entrance, the early light painting a serene picture after the chaos you had endured. overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment and the relief of having succeeded, you turned to yoongi and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. it was a moment of pure, unguarded emotion—a celebration of your shared victory and the bond you had forged.

but the peace was shattered abruptly. a gunshot rang out, echoing through the tranquil morning. the bullet struck the tree above you, the sharp crack splitting the air and causing you both to jerk in surprise. you spun around, your heart pounding as you took in the sight before you.

standing there, calm and menacing, was your father. his eyes, once filled with warmth and encouragement, were now shadowed with a mixture of resignation and fear. the most chilling aspect, however, was the gun pressed firmly against his temple. your breath caught in your throat, your relief swiftly morphing into dread.

“i knew you would find it.” the words hung in the air, each one a knife twisting into your heart.

yoongi’s arms instinctively moved to shield you, his protective presence a stark contrast to the danger that now surrounded you. the world seemed to shrink to just the three of them—yoongi, your father, and jungkook, who had guided you there, now at gunpoint.

your father shook his head sadly, the gun still pressed to his head. he spoke softly, trying to convey his message despite the dire circumstances. “it isn’t worth it,” he said, his voice trembling. the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. jungkook was not just any adversary; he was the one behind the failed museum heist, the reason why the break-in was discarded, the one who had been after the same treasure you sought. everything fell into place—the clues, the tension, and now, this horrifying confrontation.

desperation surged through you. “drop the gun,” you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. “leave my father be.”

to your astonishment, jungkook momentarily lowered the gun, a fleeting hope flickering in your chest. but it was quickly extinguished when he aimed the gun back at you. “you’re right,” he said with a chilling calmness, “you’re the one i should be shooting.”

yoongi’s grip on you tightened, his body a shield against the threat. jungkook’s gun shifted to target him instead. “don’t be a hero,” he ordered, his voice icy and unyielding.

tears streamed down your cheeks, your heart breaking at the sight of the man you loved being placed in such danger. you leaned into yoongi’s embrace, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m so sorry,” you choked out, the weight of your apology heavy with the knowledge of the peril you had brought upon him.

yoongi’s eyes were filled with an intense, unwavering love. “i love you,” he said fiercely, “and no amount of gold could ever compare to you.” his words were both a comfort and a heart-wrenching reminder of what was at stake. he held you close, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. the love in his eyes was unwavering even in the face of imminent danger. you turned to your father, whose eyes were full of regret and sorrow. he met your gaze with an apologetic smile, and you saw him mouth an “i love you.” the sight made your heart ache, the final, heart-wrenching goodbye unspoken but deeply felt.

a scream rose in your throat, but before you could utter it, the scene unfolded in a blur. your father lunged at jungkook, his actions fueled by a mix of desperation and bravery. the two of them collided, struggling fiercely. the struggle was chaotic, and in the turmoil, they both tumbled over the edge of the cliff.

you watched in horror as they fell, your father’s figure disappearing from view. the sound of their impact was muffled by the distance, but the sight of their lifeless forms on the ground below was clear. the sight of their bodies, unmoving and broken, left a raw, aching void in your chest.

yoongi wrapped his arms around you, his own tears mingling with yours as you both stood there, grief-stricken and devastated. his embrace was the only thing grounding you as you both wept. the cavern, the treasure, and the journey seemed insignificant compared to the unbearable weight of loss that now pressed upon you. in the cold light of the morning, the world felt empty, hollow. the triumph of your discovery was overshadowed by the profound sorrow of your father’s death and the jungkook's betrayal. yoongi’s presence was a small comfort in the midst of the overwhelming grief, his strength and support a beacon in the darkness of your loss.

the journey back was a somber one. as you and yoongi made your way through the tangled undergrowth, the golden dawn now a distant memory, you both climbed into the small boat you had left tethered by the shore. the morning’s light was gentle, casting a muted glow over the rippling water. the boat’s wooden frame creaked under the weight of your sadness and the burden of the gold you had decided to leave behind.

yoongi’s touch was gentle, his hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder as you sat side by side. the silence between you was profound, each of you lost in your own thoughts. the distant sounds of nature—the lapping of the water against the boat, the chirping of birds—seemed almost foreign against the backdrop of your grief.

as the boat glided over the shimmering surface, yoongi reached into his bag and pulled out a small, glistening piece of gold. His fingers were deft as he used a small tool to carefully engrave your father’s name into the metal. the delicate scratch of the tool against the gold was the only sound that marked this poignant moment. his movements were meticulous, his concentration evident as he worked with steady hands.

when he was finished, he held up the gold piece for you to see. “this is for him,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. with a heavy heart, you watched as yoongi released the engraved gold into the water. it sank slowly, disappearing beneath the surface, leaving ripples in its wake. you clung to him, the weight of your loss pressing heavily on your chest.

the boat journey seemed endless, each wave a reminder of the pain you carried. the hours passed in silence, the water reflecting the sky’s changing colors as the day progressed. when you finally reached the shore, the sight of the city brought a mix of relief and apprehension.

the moment you set foot on solid ground, the press was there, waiting for you. the bright flashes of cameras and the clamor of questions assaulted you. “why did you disappear?” one journalist asked. “did you have anything to do with the museum break-in?” another queried.

yoongi stood protectively beside you, his presence a steadying force as you fielded the questions. “we were on an expedition,” you managed to say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “we discovered something significant, but the details are still being finalized.” the press thronged around you, but yoongi guided you through the crowd and into the waiting car. the drive back to the penthouse was a blur, the cityscape slipping past the window in muted colors. when you arrived, the penthouse was an unexpected haven of calm.

inside, the weight of the world seemed to lift slightly. you sank into bed, yoongi’s arms wrapping around you with a comforting warmth. the events of the past days felt like a distant dream, and the victory you had once celebrated now seemed bittersweet. he held you close, his breath warm against your skin. “i’m so proud of you,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. “you did it.”

in the quiet of the night, as you lay beside him, you whispered, “i did it.” the victory felt hollow against the backdrop of loss, but yoongi’s presence was a balm to your wounded heart. you felt a flicker of hope amid the sadness.

the next day was a whirlwind of ceremony and celebration. the city honored your discovery with a grand ceremony held in your names. the venue was adorned with gold accents, a tribute to the treasure you had uncovered. as you and yoongi stood on the stage, the applause and cheers from the crowd felt distant and surreal. the ceremony was a testament to your achievement, but the joy was tempered by the sorrow of your recent loss.

later, in the quiet of your kitchen, you found a moment of peace. yoongi leaned against the counter, watching you with a curious smile. “what are you making?” he asked, his tone light. you looked up from your work, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “you fulfilled your promise,” you said, placing a cup of affogato in front of him. “now it’s my turn to fulfill mine.”

hia eyes softened as he took in the gesture, the warmth of the moment soothing the lingering ache in your heart. he took a sip, his expression one of contentment. as you joined him, the kitchen became a sanctuary—a place where the echoes of the past week could be put aside, if only for a moment, to savor the present and the future you were beginning to build together.

✧.*

a/n: ok outer banks crossover!!! i was gonna kill yoongi off ngl

smile for me (웃어줘) — lee taeyong (이태용)

✧.*

fate was a silent sculptor, a force that worked with the grace of a master artisan, molding the raw clay of existence into shapes unforeseen. it was an entity shrouded in mystery, an invisible thread weaver, pulling taut the strands of your life with an artistry both cruel and kind. every choice, every chance encounter, every seemingly trivial moment—fate held them in its delicate hands, spinning them into the tapestry of your existence.

but fate was not a mere craftsman; it was an omnipotent architect, capable of constructing entire worlds with a single breath. it could raise mountains of joy or carve deep valleys of despair with equal precision. it had the power to guide your steps down paths you never intended to tread, to bring you to your knees with the weight of its decisions, or to lift you to heights unimaginable, where the air was thin and every breath felt like a gift.

in its infinite wisdom, fate was both a gentle whisper and a thunderous roar. it spoke to you in the quiet moments of dawn, when the sky blushed with the promise of a new day, and it shouted at you in the chaos of a storm, when the winds howled with untamed ferocity. it was the unseen hand that nudged you towards love when your heart was unguarded and the ruthless tyrant that tore it away when you least expected it.

you knew that fate was not to be questioned. it was an ancient force, older than time itself, a presence that moved through the ages with a purpose unfathomable to mortal minds. it carried within it the echoes of a million lifetimes, the hopes and dreams of those who had come before you, and the silent prayers of those yet to be born. it was neither kind nor cruel, neither friend nor foe; it simply was.

the weight of nostalgia wrapped around you like a heavy blanket as your thoughts drifted back to those tender years when love was a golden thread that tied you and taeyong together. you were both so young, too young to understand the depth of the feelings that had blossomed between you, yet old enough to believe that what you shared was something eternal. it was the kind of love that flourished in secret, nurtured by stolen glances and whispered words under the cover of twilight. you could still remember the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, a brilliant, unwavering gaze that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. he had always been like that—intense, focused, as though nothing else mattered when you were together.

there was one evening, a memory still vivid in your mind, when the two of you had escaped to the old playground behind the school. the swings creaked with age, and the air was thick with the scent of rain that had just passed. you sat side by side, your hands barely touching, as you watched the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold.

“do you think we’ll always be like this?” you had asked him, your voice soft, almost hesitant. it was a question that carried the weight of your unspoken fears—the fear that this moment, like all things, would eventually fade.

taeyong had turned to you, his expression serious, but his eyes held that familiar warmth. “i don’t know what the future holds,” he had replied, his voice steady, “but as long as you’re here, i’ll be happy.” he reached for your hand then, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that felt both comforting and electrifying. you had smiled at him, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into your skin, anchoring you to that moment, to him. it was one of those rare times when the world seemed to stop, and all that existed was the two of you, together.

but the world didn’t stop, and neither did time. there were other memories, too—nights spent talking about dreams and fears, of futures you dared not imagine without each other. he had always been the more daring of the two, the one who would pull you into the unknown with a laugh and a promise that it would all be okay. and it always was, as long as he was by your side.

yet, nothing lasted forever. the inevitability of change came crashing into your life on a day that should have been ordinary. you could still hear the sound of your mother’s voice breaking as she delivered the news—the kind of news that shatters the world you thought you knew.

your sister was gone. the accident had been swift, merciless, taking her from you without warning, without time to prepare or to say goodbye. the grief that followed was a dark, suffocating cloud that settled over your home, over your heart. and with it came the decision that would alter the course of your life.

“we’re moving to gangnam,” your father had said, his voice heavy with a resolve that left no room for argument. it was meant to be a fresh start, a way to escape the memories that haunted every corner of your old life. but for you, it was the end of everything you knew, including your relationship with taeyong. you could still remember the day you told him. it was the last day of summer, the air thick with the scent of autumn just around the corner. you met him at the park, the same place where so many of your memories had been made. but this time, there was no laughter, no lightheartedness. only the heavy weight of what you had to say.

“i’m leaving,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “my family, we’re moving to gangnam. i don’t have a choice.”

taeyong’s eyes widened, disbelief and pain flashing across his face. “no, you can’t,” he murmured, stepping closer to you as if he could somehow change the reality with his presence alone. “we’ll find a way, we always do.”

but there was no way this time, and you both knew it. the distance, the grief, the weight of everything that had happened—it was too much. you shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “we can’t, tae. this time, it really is goodbye.” he was silent for a long time, the kind of silence that felt like it stretched on forever, as if the world itself was holding its breath. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, filled with a sadness that broke your heart all over again. “i don’t want to say goodbye to you.”

you finally looked up at him, your vision blurred with unshed tears. “neither do i,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “but we don’t have a choice.”

he took your hand then, just as he had so many times before, but this time it felt different—final. he held it tightly, as if trying to memorize the feel of your skin against his, as if this one touch could somehow bridge the distance that was about to come between you.

“promise me something,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “promise me you’ll be happy, no matter what happens.” you nodded, unable to find the words. your throat was tight, your heart breaking with every second that passed. but you knew you had to let him go, just as he had to let you go.

he smiled at you then, a sad, beautiful smile that you knew you would carry with you for the rest of your life. “smile for me,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. “just once more, before you go.”

you forced yourself to smile, though it felt like your heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin.

“i’ll never forget you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice breaking. “no matter where you go, or how much time passes. i’ll never forget.” you closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of that moment, knowing it was the last you would share. when you opened them again, he was already stepping back, his hand slipping from yours as if he was afraid to hold on too tightly, afraid to break you both. you watched him go, your heart aching with every step he took away from you. and when he was finally gone, you stood there for what felt like hours, the weight of the goodbye settling over you like a heavy, unbearable burden.

and though you eventually turned and walked away, leaving behind the park, the memories, and the boy you had once loved, you knew that a part of you would always remain there, with him, in the echoes of your past.

time had a way of healing wounds, softening the sharp edges of pain until they became manageable, like scars that faded but never entirely disappeared. after the storm of your past, you had found solace in creation, in the art of storytelling, where you could lose yourself in worlds of your own making. it was there, behind the lens of a camera, that you found your true calling.

filmmaking became your salvation. each frame you captured, each story you brought to life, was a step forward—a way to channel your grief, your loss, and the remnants of love that still lingered in the corners of your heart. you poured yourself into your work, every script a piece of your soul, every scene a reflection of your journey.

there was one film in particular, one that marked the turning point in your career and life. it was a story about love and loss, about the inevitability of change and the beauty that could still be found within it. it was a story that, in many ways, mirrored your own, though you kept that truth hidden beneath layers of fiction.

on the day of the premiere, you stood at the back of the theater, watching as the audience was drawn into the world you had created. the lights dimmed, the opening scene played, and you felt a sense of pride swell within you—a pride that you had not felt in a long time. you had done it. you had taken the broken pieces of your heart and crafted them into something beautiful, something that resonated with others.

when the lights came up and the applause filled the room, you allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes, to let the sound wash over you. it was more than just success; it was a validation of everything you had been through, a sign that you had not only survived but thrived.

later, as you mingled with guests at the after-party, you found yourself surrounded by admirers—people who had been touched by your work, who saw in you the talent and drive that had carried you this far. but amid the congratulations and praise, there was one moment that stood out above the rest.

a young aspiring filmmaker approached you, her eyes wide with admiration. “your film, it was incredible,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “i’ve always wanted to make films, but i never thought i could do it. watching your work, it’s made me believe that maybe i can.”

you smiled at her, seeing a reflection of your younger self in her eyes. “you can,” you assured her, your voice steady and warm. “if you have a story to tell, then nothing should stop you from telling it. the world needs to hear it, and you’re the only one who can share it in your way.” she beamed at your words, and you felt a deep sense of fulfillment knowing that you had inspired someone else to follow their dreams. it was in that moment that you realized how far you had come, not just in your career, but in your journey of healing.

the years had been kind to you, and as you continued to create, to tell stories that moved and inspired, you found that the pain of the past had become a source of strength, rather than a burden. you had taken the darkest chapters of your life and turned them into art, into something that could touch the hearts of others and remind them that there was always hope, even in the face of loss.

but you were not the only one who had found success in the years that followed your breakup with taeyong. he, too, had risen to the heights of his potential, carving out a name for himself in the world of acting. he had always possessed a natural talent, a charisma that drew people to him, both on and off the screen. his presence was magnetic, his performances imbued with a raw intensity that captivated audiences. he had a way of slipping into his roles, of becoming the characters he portrayed, with a depth that left those who watched him breathless.

you heard about his success in the way one might hear about the weather—a constant, ever-present topic of conversation among those in your circle. his name was on the lips of critics and fans alike, his face gracing the covers of magazines, his performances earning him accolades and awards.

there was one film, in particular, that catapulted him into the spotlight, a gritty drama that required him to delve into the darkest recesses of the human experience. it was a role that demanded everything from him, both physically and emotionally, and he delivered with a performance that was nothing short of transformative.

as you watched the film, you couldn’t help but be struck by how far he had come, how much he had grown since those days when the two of you had been just a couple of kids with big dreams. he had taken the raw potential that you had always seen in him and honed it into something extraordinary.

his eyes, those same eyes that had once looked at you with so much love, now held a depth of emotion that spoke of experience, of a life lived and lessons learned. he was no longer the boy you had loved; he was a man who had faced his demons and come out stronger for it. in interviews, he spoke with the same quiet confidence that you remembered, but there was a wisdom in his words now, a maturity that came from the years that had passed. “acting is more than just pretending,” he once said during a particularly poignant interview. “it’s about understanding, about feeling deeply and sharing that with the world. it’s about connection.”

you couldn’t help but smile as you listened to him speak, recognizing the passion in his voice, the same passion that had driven you both to pursue your dreams. he had found his place in the world, just as you had found yours, and though your paths had diverged, there was a sense of pride in knowing that you had both made it.

the years had changed you both, in ways that were both subtle and profound. but as you reflected on all that had happened, on the successes and the sorrows, you realized that there was no regret in your heart. the love you had shared with him had been beautiful in its time, and though it had ended, it had left you both with something invaluable—a strength that carried you through the darkest times, and a determination to succeed, no matter the obstacles. and so, you continued to create, to inspire, to tell stories that mattered. and somewhere out there, taeyong did the same, each of you living the life that you had once dreamed of, finding your place in the world, and knowing that, in some way, you would always be connected by the memories of a love that had shaped you both.

the world had always been a stage for taeyong, a place where he could perform, transform, and transcend the boundaries of the ordinary. the lights, the cameras, the applause—these were the constants in his life, the elements that shaped him and gave him purpose. yet behind the scenes, away from the adoring fans and the glittering awards, there were moments that never made it to the silver screen. moments where the performance slipped, and reality seeped in, raw and unforgiving.

it was a day like any other, the sun bright against the city skyline, casting long shadows that danced along the pavement. taeyong found himself at the doctor's office, a place that had become all too familiar over the past few months. he had always been diligent about his health, keeping up with his annual check-ups, even when his schedule was packed. but this visit carried a weight that he had been trying to ignore, a heaviness that settled in his chest as he sat in the waiting room, flipping through a magazine without really seeing the pages.

when the nurse called his name, he stood, his movements fluid, graceful—an actor slipping into a role. he followed her down the hallway, past the sterile walls and closed doors, until they reached the examination room. the nurse smiled at him, a practiced, polite smile, before leaving him to wait.

and so he waited, the seconds stretching into minutes, each one a reminder of why he was here. he looked around the room, at the medical posters on the walls, the jars of tongue depressors and cotton balls, the examination table covered in crisp white paper. it all felt surreal, like a scene in one of his films, only this time there was no script, no director to call cut.

finally, the door opened, and doctor kim entered, his expression calm and measured, though taeyong could see the strain behind his eyes. they had known each other for years, the doctor having been a constant in his life, someone who had seen him through the ups and downs of his career, who had celebrated his successes and supported him through the tough times.

“taeyong,” the doctor greeted him with a nod, taking a seat at his desk. he pulled out a file, flipping it open and scanning the contents before looking up. “how have you been feeling?”

he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, his smile easy, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “good, i suppose. busy, as always. the new project’s been keeping me on my toes.”

the doctor nodded, though his focus remained on the file in front of him. he let out a quiet sigh, closing the folder with a soft snap. “taeyong, we need to talk about your test results.” there it was, the moment he had been dreading, the words he had hoped he would never have to hear again. he kept his expression neutral, though his heart pounded in his chest. “has it gotten worse?” he asked, his voice steady, but there was a tension there, a crack beneath the surface.

the doctor's gaze softened, and taeyong could see the sadness in his eyes, the weight of what he had to say. “i’m afraid so,” he replied quietly. “the cancer has spread.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and oppressive, pressing down on taeyong’s shoulders like a physical force. he swallowed hard, his throat tight, but he didn’t let his composure falter. “well,” he said, forcing a smile, “i guess that’ll make for an interesting documentary, don’t you think? the story of an actor battling against the odds. it’s got drama, emotion, everything a good film needs.”

but the attempt at levity fell flat, the joke hollow in the face of reality. doctor kim didn’t smile. instead, he leaned forward, his voice gentle, full of compassion. “taeyong, i’m so sorry. i know this isn’t what you wanted to hear.” for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. he stared at the floor, his vision blurring at the edges as the reality of the situation crashed down on him. the dreams he had, the plans for the future—all of it suddenly felt fragile, like glass that could shatter with the slightest touch.

he had always been in control, always the one who called the shots, who decided how his story would be told. but now, now he was faced with something that he couldn’t direct, something that wouldn’t follow the script he had written for himself.

“i thought i had more time,” he finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought, i could beat this.”

despite it all, he managed a weak smile, though his mind was already racing, trying to process what this meant for him, for his career, for the life he had built. he had always been a fighter, someone who never gave up, no matter how tough the battle. but now, it felt like a war he wasn’t sure he could win.

the studio was your sanctuary, a place where creativity flowed freely and the boundaries of reality blurred into the world of film. the walls were lined with storyboards, sketches, and notes, each one a fragment of a story waiting to be told. the room was filled with the soft hum of computers, the quiet rustling of papers, and the muted conversations of your team as they worked diligently on the myriad of projects you had taken on.

you stood in the center of it all, surrounded by the familiar chaos, yet your mind was already elsewhere, lost in the labyrinth of ideas that always seemed to pull you in a hundred different directions. the morning light filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the space, but you barely noticed, too engrossed in the task at hand—a script that demanded your attention, characters that needed your voice to bring them to life.

“hey, boss,” a voice broke through your concentration, and you looked up to see one of your team members standing at the door, a hesitant smile on her face. “got a minute?” you sighed, setting the script down on the cluttered table and running a hand through your hair. “barely,” you replied with a weary smile. “i’m buried under a mountain of work, but go on. what’s up?”

the team member exchanged glances with the others in the room, a silent communication passing between them before she stepped further into the studio. “we’ve got a new project for you,” she said, her tone careful, as if she was choosing her words with great precision. you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite your earlier protest. “a new project?” you repeated, leaning back against the table and crossing your arms. “you know how swamped i am. i’ve got deadlines looming, scripts to revise, not to mention the festival coming up. i’m not sure i can take on anything else right now.”

“i know, i know,” she said quickly, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. “but this, this is something you can’t pass up. trust me.” your interest was definitely piqued now. she knew you well enough to understand that you didn’t take on just any project, especially when your plate was already full. if she was pushing this, it had to be something special. “alright,” you said slowly, eyeing her with a mixture of suspicion and intrigue. “what’s the project?”

she hesitated for just a moment, and you could see the flicker of something—concern, maybe—in her eyes before she spoke again. “it’s a documentary,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “about a famous actor, and his battle with cancer.”

her words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. you blinked, trying to process what she had just said. it wasn’t the first time you’d been approached with a project like this—after all, your reputation as a filmmaker was built on your ability to tell stories that resonated deeply with people, stories that touched on the raw, human experiences of life. but something about this particular proposal struck a chord within you, a sense of déjà vu that you couldn’t quite shake.

“a documentary about an actor’s battle with cancer?” you repeated, your voice softer now, tinged with the gravity of the subject. “that’s certainly an interesting proposal.” there was a brief silence as your team watched you closely, gauging your reaction, waiting to see if you would take the bait. and how could you not? this was the kind of story that could change lives, that could bring hope to others in the same situation. it was the kind of story that needed to be told, and you knew you had the skills and the sensitivity to tell it in the way it deserved.

“so,” your team member continued, her voice a little more confident now, “what do you think? are you up for it?” you let out a slow breath, your mind already racing with the possibilities, the ideas that were starting to take shape. the weight of the project was immense, but it was also an opportunity—one that you knew you couldn’t walk away from. this was why you had become a filmmaker in the first place: to tell stories that mattered, stories that could make a difference.

you met her gaze, a resolve settling over you as you nodded. “yeah,” you said, your voice firm with decision. “i’m up for it. let’s do it.”

there was a collective sigh of relief from your team, and the tension in the room eased as smiles spread across their faces. “great,” she said, her smile wide and genuine. “i’ll set up the meeting as soon as possible. you won’t regret this.”

you nodded again, though your thoughts were already elsewhere, your mind drifting to the story you were about to embark on, the life you were about to explore and capture on film. there was something about this project that felt different, something that tugged at the edges of your consciousness, a sense that this was more than just another film—it was a story that was somehow personal, though you couldn’t quite place why.

the house was quiet, an eerie stillness filling the space as taeyong stood in the center of his living room. the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced across the walls, their movements gentle and unassuming. the room was warm, lit by the soft glow of the fireplace, its flames crackling quietly, adding a touch of life to the otherwise somber atmosphere.

his gaze was distant, his thoughts miles away, lost in the labyrinth of memories and the weight of the present. he had always been a man who carried his burdens silently, his struggles hidden behind a charming smile and a confident demeanor. but tonight, there was a heaviness to him, a sense of finality that clung to the air, making the room feel smaller, suffocating.

mark stood by his side, his eyes filled with concern as he watched his boss, his friend, grapple with the silent battle he had been waging for months now. taeyong’s health had been declining slowly, the cancer spreading with a relentless determination, yet he had never once allowed it to break him. he had continued to work, to smile, to laugh as if everything was fine. but mark knew better. he could see the toll it was taking on him, the exhaustion that was starting to seep into his bones, the way his eyes seemed dimmer, less vibrant.

“are you alright?” mark’s voice was soft, hesitant, as if he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace that hung in the air. taeyong didn’t turn to look at him, his eyes still fixed on the flames that danced before him. “never been better,” he replied, his tone light, almost nonchalant. but there was an edge to his voice, a hint of something darker that he couldn’t quite mask.

mark’s brow furrowed, a frown tugging at his lips as he tried to make sense of his words. he had always admired taeyong’s ability to stay positive, to find the silver lining in even the darkest of situations, but this—this felt different. there was something unsettling about the way he spoke, as if he had accepted his fate, as if he was ready to let go.

“the cancer,” taeyong continued, his voice calm, almost detached, “despite its slow murder, is a good chance for my career to reach its peak.”

mark’s heart clenched at the words, a cold chill running down his spine. how could he say such a thing? how could he talk about his own death with such casual indifference? mark shook his head, trying to push the thought away, trying to ignore the fear that was beginning to coil in his chest.

“boss,” mark began, his voice trembling slightly, but he quickly caught himself, forcing a steadiness he didn’t feel. “don’t say that. you’re going to make it. you’ll beat this.” taeyong didn’t respond, his silence heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and unacknowledged fears. he stepped away from the fireplace, his feet moving almost instinctively towards the mantle where several framed photographs were arranged neatly, each one a snapshot of a moment in time, a piece of his past carefully preserved behind glass.

he paused in front of the mantle, his eyes scanning the photos, memories flooding his mind as he took in the images—his parents, his friends, moments of triumph and joy. but there was one photograph that drew his attention, one that seemed to pull him in with a force he couldn’t resist. it was a picture of you and him, taken years ago when the world seemed so much simpler, so full of promise.

you were both smiling in the photo, your eyes bright with laughter, your arm looped through his as if you were afraid to let go. it was a candid shot, one taken during a summer festival, the two of you surrounded by the vibrant colors of the fair, the warmth of the day captured in the curve of your lips and the softness of your gaze. taeyong’s fingers reached out, brushing lightly against the glass, tracing the outline of your face, the curve of your smile, as if by touching the image, he could somehow bring you back, relive that moment just once more. there was a sadness in his eyes now, a longing that he couldn’t quite put into words.

mark watched him in silence, his heart aching for his best friend, for the man who had once been so full of life and energy, who had always faced the world with an unbreakable spirit. he could see the pain that he was trying so hard to hide, the sorrow that he kept locked away, refusing to let it show, refusing to let it consume him. “you’re going to make it,” mark repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words quietly would make them true, would somehow protect taeyong from the cruel hand that fate had dealt him.

his hand stilled on the photograph, his gaze lingering on your face, on the memory of what you had once been to each other. there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell you, but the words were caught in his throat, trapped by the knowledge that it was too late, that those moments were gone, that the life he had envisioned for himself, for the two of you, had slipped through his fingers like sand.

“smile for me,” he whispered to the photo, the words so quiet that they barely reached mark’s ears. it was a request, a plea for something that he could no longer have, for the joy that had been taken from him, for the love that he had lost.

the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of your apartment, casting a soft, golden light across the room. you sat at the edge of your bed, your fingers idly twisting the delicate silver chain that hung around your neck. the pendant, a simple charm that had once meant the world to you, was cool against your skin, a reminder of a time long past.

today was a day you had been preparing for, though you hadn’t known it. a part of you had been waiting for this moment, whether consciously or not. you had been told this was a career-defining opportunity, a project that could cement your place in the industry. but as you sat there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel the tight knot of anxiety in your stomach, the unease that had been building ever since you first heard the name of the actor you were about to meet.

“focus,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely more than a breath. you had come so far, had worked so hard to get here. this was your moment. you were a successful filmmaker, your documentaries praised for their depth, their emotional resonance. you had built a career on capturing the raw, unfiltered truth of human experience. and yet, the truth of what you were feeling now was something you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

you stood and walked over to the wardrobe, pulling out a simple, yet elegant, outfit. something professional, but not too formal—a reminder that while this was work, it was also personal, far more personal than anything you had ever done before. as you dressed, you went over the plan in your mind, rehearsing the questions you wanted to ask, the tone you wanted to set. you had to be calm, composed, professional. but above all, you had to be respectful. this was someone’s life, someone’s struggle that you were about to document. you needed to handle it with the care and sensitivity it deserved.

you inhaled deeply, trying to steady the trembling in your hands. “it’s just another project,” you told yourself, though the words felt hollow, like a mantra you didn’t quite believe. you shook your head, pushing the thoughts away, focusing instead on the task at hand. this was about the work, about telling a story that needed to be told.

when you arrived at the studio, your manager greeted you with a warm smile. “he’ll be here soon,” she assured you, her tone light, as if this were just another day at the office. you nodded, your expression calm, though inside, you were anything but. you tried to imagine how the conversation would go, the questions you would ask, the answers he might give. you wanted to make sure that you approached him with the respect he deserved, whoever he was. this wasn’t about you, or the past. this was about him, about his story.

you were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the door open, didn’t notice the figure that walked into the room until it was too late. the air seemed to shift, the room growing heavier as if time itself had slowed. when you finally looked up, your breath caught in your throat. there he was, standing just a few feet away, his presence as commanding as ever. your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse racing as you took him in, the years that had passed between you falling away in an instant.

he hadn’t changed. not really. he was older, yes, his features more defined, more mature, but the essence of him was still the same. the same sharp eyes, the same confident posture, the same warmth in his smile that had once made you feel like you were the only person in the world. but now, that smile was tinged with something else, something sadder, something that spoke of battles fought and lost, of a life that had been lived, but not without cost. and then he saw you.

his gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. the air between you was electric, charged with the weight of all that had been left unsaid, all the memories that had been buried but never forgotten. you saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the way his breath hitched, the way his expression softened, just for a moment, before he schooled his features back into that same calm, controlled mask he always wore.

but it was too late. you had seen it. the way his eyes had widened, the way his shoulders had tensed, the way his lips had parted, just slightly, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. he hadn’t changed a bit, you thought, your heart aching with the realization. he was still the same boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago, still the same person who had once held your heart in his hands. but there was something else there now, something deeper, something that spoke of pain and loss and the kind of strength that could only come from enduring both.

for a moment, you didn’t know what to do, what to say. the room felt too small, the air too thick, and all you could do was stare at him, your mind racing, your emotions a whirlwind of confusion and longing and fear. taeyong, for his part, didn’t say anything either. he just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were real, that after all these years, after everything that had happened, you were standing in front of him again.

and as you stood there, frozen in place, you couldn’t help but think how much prettier you had gotten. the years had been kind to you, had softened the edges of your beauty, had added a depth to your eyes, a grace to your movements that hadn’t been there before. he could see the strength in you, the resilience that had carried you through the years, through the pain and the loss and the heartache. but he also saw the vulnerability, the way your hands trembled just slightly, the way your breath hitched when you saw him. and it broke his heart, because he knew that he had put that there, that he was the reason you had learned to guard your heart so carefully, to protect yourself from the kind of pain that had once torn you apart.

the silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until it was finally broken by the soft clearing of a throat. your manager, sensing the tension, quickly made an excuse, something about giving you both some privacy, and with a few hurried words, she ushered the rest of the staff out of the room, leaving you and taeyong alone.

you sat across from him, the space between you feeling like an ocean of memories and emotions that neither of you could fully navigate. the small table in the center of the room was the only thing that separated you, yet it felt like a chasm. both of you were still stunned, your hearts beating in sync with the silence that enveloped the room.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words tumbled out before you could catch them. “of all people,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, “i didn’t expect to see you.”

taeyong’s smile was small, almost wistful, as he looked at you. his eyes, though still bright with that familiar spark, held a depth of sorrow that hadn’t been there before. “it’s been a long time,” he replied, his voice softer than you remembered, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. the pieces began to click in your mind, the realization slowly dawning on you as you recalled the brief your team had given you—the documentary about an actor’s battle with cancer. the words had seemed almost abstract then, just another story to tell, but now, with taeyong sitting in front of you, they took on a weight that made your heart swell with a mixture of pain and empathy. he was the actor. he was the one fighting for his life.

his smile grew a little, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “you’ve gotten prettier,” he said, his voice carrying a note of admiration, but also of something unspoken, a sadness that lingered in the air between you. you couldn’t help the sad smile that tugged at your lips as you responded, “you look as good as ever.” but even as you said it, you noticed the subtle changes in him, the way his clothes seemed to hang just a little too loosely on his frame, the pallor of his skin, the slight tremor in his hands that he tried to hide.

he tilted his head slightly, studying you with those same piercing eyes that had once seen right through you, had once made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered. “how’ve you been?” he asked, his voice gentle, as if he was afraid of the answer. you hesitated, your heart constricting in your chest as memories of the past few years flashed through your mind. “it’s been rough,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. the loss of your sister, the breakup that had shattered your heart, the long, lonely nights spent trying to piece yourself back together—it all came rushing back in a wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm you.

“and you?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your concern, though you already knew the answer. “how have you been?”

taeyong’s smile faltered, and for a moment, you saw the truth written on his face—the exhaustion, the pain, the fight he was barely holding onto. “i’ve seen better days,” he confessed, his voice tinged with a resignation that made your heart ache. it was only then that you truly saw him, really saw him—the fragility in his posture, the way his shoulders slumped slightly as if carrying the weight of the world, the way his skin seemed almost translucent in the harsh lighting of the room. he looked like a shadow of the person you once knew, a ghost of the man who had once stood so tall, so strong. the sight of him, so frail, so vulnerable, sent a pang of sorrow through you that you couldn’t suppress.

your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay. “i leave, and you get sick on me,” you murmured, your voice cracking with the effort to keep your emotions in check. “how’s that fair?”

taeyong’s smile was sad, a reflection of the pain he saw in your eyes. he reached out, his hand hovering over the table as if he wanted to comfort you, but then he hesitated, pulling back slightly. “don’t worry about me,” he said softly, his voice carrying a gentle reassurance that only made the tears in your eyes spill over. you wiped at your eyes, trying to compose yourself, but the overwhelming reality of the situation was too much to bear. the person who had once been your everything was now facing a battle you couldn’t even begin to fathom, and you felt utterly helpless.

he paused, his gaze fixed on you, as if he was memorizing every detail of your face, every expression, every flicker of emotion. “you have a documentary to work on,” he reminded you gently, his voice steady, though you could hear the strain beneath it. you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you tried to push down the flood of emotions threatening to consume you. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i guess i do.”

but even as you said the words, you knew that this was more than just a project, more than just another film to add to your portfolio. this was taeyong’s story, his life, and the thought of capturing something so personal, so painful, filled you with a sense of dread you couldn’t shake.

he smiled again, that same sad, knowing smile, as if he could read every thought that crossed your mind. “it’s okay,” he said, his voice soothing. “we’ll get through this. together.” the word “together” hung in the air between you, a reminder of all that had been lost, but also of all that still remained. despite everything, despite the years that had passed and the pain that had followed, there was still something between you, something that time and distance hadn’t been able to erase.

taeyong glanced at the clock on the wall, the faint ticking echoing in the quiet room. the moment stretched out, heavy with unspoken words and lingering emotions. you could feel the time slipping away, each second pulling him further from you. he began to rise slowly, his movements careful and deliberate, as if he was mindful of every breath he took.

his eyes flickered to yours, and you caught the briefest glimpse of hesitation, a flicker of something deeper that he quickly masked with a soft smile. you knew he was about to leave, and the thought sent a ripple of panic through you—a fear that this might be the last time you'd have him this close, the last time you could reach out and touch the memories that still bound you together.

before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, desperate and unguarded. “would you like to discuss the details over coffee?” he paused, his eyes widening slightly as he took in your request. for a moment, you thought he might refuse, that the careful distance he was trying to maintain would hold, keeping the fragile walls between you intact. but then, his smile softened, melting into something genuine, something warm that reminded you of the boy you once knew.

“i’d love to,” he murmured, his voice tender, as if the mere act of agreeing to your offer was a kindness you couldn’t fully comprehend. his eyes, now shining with a mix of nostalgia and affection, locked onto yours, and in that moment, the distance between you seemed to shrink just a little.

together, you left the room, the tension easing with each step as the familiarity of your presence beside him settled into something more comfortable, more natural. the hallway outside was dimly lit, the muted colors adding a softness to the surroundings that matched the quiet emotions hanging between you. you walked in silence, neither of you needing to fill the space with idle chatter. it wasn’t long before you found a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away on a quiet street corner, its warm glow inviting you both in from the cool evening air. the bell above the door jingled softly as you entered, the sound somehow grounding you in the moment.

taeyong held the door open for you, his eyes never leaving yours as you stepped inside. the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you, mingling with the faint scent of pastries and the low hum of quiet conversation from the few patrons scattered throughout the shop. the space was intimate, with dark wood tables and soft lighting that cast a gentle, golden hue over everything. it was the kind of place that felt like a secret, a hidden gem where time seemed to slow down.

he gestured toward a corner table by the window, where the light from a single candle flickered, casting delicate shadows on the polished wood. you nodded, making your way over to the table, the soft cushion of the chair sinking slightly under your weight as you sat down. he followed suit, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the simplicity of the moment. as he took the seat across from you, the candlelight caught the edges of his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips. he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt as though the years between you had melted away, leaving only the two of you, here and now.

when the waitress came to take your order, you hesitated, unsure if he would remember. but before you could speak, taeyong smiled up at her, his expression calm and certain. “two caramel macchiatos,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “one with extra foam, the other with just a hint of cinnamon on top.”

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, the familiarity of the order sending a rush of warmth through you. he still remembered. after all these years, after all the distance that had grown between you, he remembered your favorite coffee, right down to the smallest detail. the waitress nodded, scribbling down the order before disappearing behind the counter. for a moment, you just looked at him, your heart swelling with a bittersweet kind of joy. the fact that he remembered something so trivial, something you had always considered your little indulgence, felt like a small miracle in the vastness of everything that had changed.

he met your gaze, his eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight, and he smiled—a real, unguarded smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and softened the lines of his face. “some things you just don’t forget,” he murmured, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that wrapped around your heart like a comforting embrace. the words hung in the air between you, a gentle reminder of the connection you once shared. the silence that followed wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable, but rather, it was filled with a kind of understanding, an acknowledgment of all the things that had been left unsaid over the years.

when the drinks arrived, his smile widened as he slid yours across the table, the extra foam creating a delicate swirl in the amber liquid. you wrapped your hands around the warm cup, letting the heat seep into your skin, grounding you in the present moment.

the first sip was familiar, comforting, and you couldn’t help the small sigh of contentment that escaped your lips. he watched you with an expression of quiet satisfaction, as if your enjoyment of something so simple brought him a sense of peace. for a while, the two of you simply sipped your coffee, the world outside the window blurring into the background as the evening darkened. you talked about small things—work, mutual acquaintances, the latest films—but the conversation flowed easily, naturally, as though no time had passed since you last sat together like this.

but underneath the casual conversation, there was a current of deeper emotion, an unspoken acknowledgment of the elephant in the room. you could feel it in the way his gaze occasionally lingered on you, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face, every subtle shift in your expression. eventually, the conversation quieted, and the silence that followed was different—more charged, more significant. his eyes softened as he looked at you, and he reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.

“i missed this,” he admitted softly, his voice almost a whisper, as if the words were too fragile to be spoken aloud. his thumb traced a gentle line across the back of your hand, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. you looked down at your intertwined fingers, the sight so familiar, so right, that it made your chest ache with a longing you hadn’t realized you were still holding onto. “i did too,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with the weight of the truth behind the words.

the warmth of his hand was a balm against the coldness that had settled in your heart over the years, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, the chasm between you could be bridged. that somehow, despite everything, you could find your way back to the place where you had once been so close. as you sat there, the candlelight casting soft shadows on the walls, you realized that this moment—this simple, quiet moment—was more precious than anything you could have imagined. it was a reminder that no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much had changed, there was still something between you. something worth holding onto.

the coffee shop door swung shut behind you, the faint chime of the bell ringing in your ears as you and taeyong stepped out into the cool night air. the evening had settled in fully now, the sky a deep canvas of indigo, speckled with stars that flickered faintly against the darkness. you shivered slightly, though whether from the chill or from the weight of everything unspoken between you, you couldn’t tell.

he walked beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, his breath forming small clouds in the cold air. the silence between you was thick with the lingering warmth of your time together, but also with the unshakable reality that this moment was coming to an end. the streets were quiet, the usual bustle of the city muted as if the world itself had paused to allow you these last few moments together.

when you reached the corner where you would part ways, taeyong stopped and turned to face you. the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp cast a halo of light around him, illuminating the sharp planes of his face, the softness in his eyes that he hadn’t quite hidden from you tonight. he seemed to hesitate, his gaze searching yours for something—perhaps the words he didn’t know how to say, or the strength to hold back what he truly felt.

“thank you,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere. his eyes never left yours, and you could see the depth of his gratitude, the silent plea that you understood how much tonight had meant to him. “for everything. for the coffee, for listening, for just being here.”

you nodded, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. you wanted to say so much—to tell him how much you had missed this, how much you wished things could be different, how much you still cared—but the words felt too heavy, too vulnerable to voice. instead, you just stood there, your heart aching with the knowledge that you were once again saying goodbye to the boy who had once meant everything to you.

he smiled, a sad, bittersweet curve of his lips that made your chest tighten painfully. “i'll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, his eyes holding yours for a long moment, as if trying to convey all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud. “take care,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat, which seemed to echo loudly in the quiet night.

he took a step back, hesitated, then stepped forward again and wrapped his arms around you in a tight, warm embrace. you closed your eyes, sinking into the familiar comfort of his arms, letting yourself hold on for just a little bit longer. the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body against yours—it all felt so heartbreakingly familiar, and yet so distant, as if this moment was something you were meant to remember, not live.

when he finally pulled away, you felt the loss acutely, as if a part of you had been torn away with him. he offered you one last smile, one last lingering look, before turning and walking away, his figure slowly disappearing into the darkness of the night. you watched him go, your heart heavy with the realization that you didn’t know when—or if—you would ever see him again.

once he was out of sight, you finally turned and started the walk home. the streets were empty, save for the occasional car passing by, the world around you quiet and still. your footsteps echoed softly against the pavement, the only sound accompanying the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

by the time you reached your front door, your hands were trembling. you fumbled with the keys, the cold metal slipping between your fingers as you tried to fit the key into the lock. it took longer than it should have, but finally, the door clicked open, and you stepped inside. the warmth of your home greeted you, but it did nothing to chase away the cold that had settled deep within you. the silence here was different—heavier, more oppressive. it pressed down on you as you closed the door behind you, the finality of it ringing in your ears.

you took a few steps into the living room, your eyes scanning the familiar space without really seeing it. everything felt surreal, as if you were moving through a dream, one where you were painfully aware of how it would end. and then, as if the weight of it all had finally become too much, your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor. the tears came suddenly, without warning, spilling down your cheeks in hot, uncontrollable waves. you pressed your hands to your face, trying to stifle the sobs that tore from your throat, but it was no use. the dam had broken, and there was no stopping the flood.

you cried for everything—for the boy who had once been your everything, for the man he had become, for the distance that had grown between you over the years, for the love that still lingered, unspoken and unresolved. you cried for the memories that haunted you, for the pain of seeing him again, for the fear that this might truly be the end. your sobs echoed through the empty room, the sound raw and anguished, a release of all the emotions you had been holding back for so long. the reality of his situation, the knowledge that he was facing something you couldn’t fix, something you couldn’t protect him from—it all came crashing down on you, overwhelming you with a grief so deep, you could hardly breathe.

you stayed like that for what felt like hours, curled up on the floor, your body wracked with sobs until there were no more tears left to cry. the exhaustion that followed was bone-deep, leaving you drained and empty, a hollow shell of yourself. eventually, the tears subsided, leaving only a dull ache in their wake. you were too tired to move, too tired to do anything but lay there, the coolness of the floor pressing against your cheek, grounding you in the present. your breathing slowed, your sobs fading into quiet, shaky breaths as you finally began to slip into the darkness of sleep.

the following morning, you woke with the remnants of your tears still damp on your cheeks, the pain of the previous night still a heavy presence in your heart. you moved through the motions of your morning routine with mechanical precision, the hollow weight of grief settling deep within you. despite your efforts to compose yourself, your eyes were still red and swollen, the telltale signs of a night spent in anguish.

when you arrived at the studio where you were scheduled to meet taeyong, you tried to ignore the way your reflection in the glass doors revealed the exhaustion etched into your features. the bustling energy of the set did little to mask your own emotional turmoil as you prepared for another day of filming. he was already there, looking remarkably composed in contrast to the chaotic state you felt inside. he greeted you with that familiar smile, but it faltered just slightly as he took in the sight of you. his eyes softened with concern, a depth of empathy in his gaze that was all too familiar.

“hey,” he said, his voice gentle as he approached you. “you look tired. surely, you haven’t been crying because of me?” you tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it felt strained and weak. “oh, no,” you said quickly, your voice betraying the lie. “i’ve just been restless. Iit’s nothing, really.”

his expression remained skeptical, but he chose not to press further. “if you say so,” he said, though his eyes lingered on you with a hint of worry. “let’s get started. we’ve got a lot to cover today.”

the morning passed in a blur of activity as you worked together, setting up the cameras, adjusting the lights, and preparing for the next segment of the documentary. he was, as always, a professional, his presence commanding and charismatic even in the face of the vulnerability he was about to share. but today, the process felt more poignant, more bittersweet. each moment of film captured was a moment of his life that was both being documented and slowly slipping away.

as you filmed, taeyong spoke candidly about his journey with cancer. his voice was steady, but beneath the surface, there was a current of raw emotion. “it started with just a bit of fatigue,” he recounted, his eyes distant as he looked at the camera. “then came the pain, and before i knew it, it was everywhere. the treatments, they’re brutal. sometimes, i wonder if the cure is worse than the disease.”

his words were measured, but each one carried the weight of his suffering. the room was filled with the soft hum of the camera, and every so often, taeyong would glance over at you, as if checking to see if you were still there, still listening. his stories were filled with moments of strength and despair, the two coexisting in a delicate balance that left you feeling both heartbroken and inspired.

at one point, he began to talk about the impact of his illness on his personal life. he spoke about the relationships that had faltered, the friends who had drifted away. “people say they want to be there for you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “but it’s hard to be around someone who’s constantly fighting a losing battle. i understand why they pull away. i wouldn’t want to be around me either.”

your eyes filled with tears as he spoke, and you struggled to maintain your composure. the pain in his voice, the vulnerability he exposed—it was all too much. the camera kept rolling, capturing the raw honesty of his words, but you could no longer hold back the tears. they spilled over, running down your cheeks as you tried to stifle the sobs that escaped from your throat.

taeyong noticed immediately. he paused, his gaze shifting from the camera to you, his expression a mix of concern and sadness. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry. “do you need a break?” you shook your head, though your sobs were still audible. “i’m sorry,” you managed to say through your tears. “i didn’t mean to—”

he moved quickly to your side, his hand reaching out to touch your arm with a comforting warmth. “hey, it’s alright,” he said softly. “you don’t have to apologize. this is hard for me too. i understand.”

he took a deep breath, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “i know it’s difficult,” he contonued, his voice cracking slightly. “i don’t have much time left, but i want to make the most of it. i want to spend the time i have left with you.” you looked up at him, your heart aching as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. “taeyong, i—”

he cut you off gently, placing a hand over yours. “let’s make a pact,” he said, his voice resolute despite the tears that glistened in his eyes. “let’s spend as much time together as we can. we’ll make these moments count.” you nodded, the weight of his words sinking deep into your heart. “i’d like that,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

he squeezed your hand reassuringly. “good,” he said, his own tears now flowing freely. “because i need you here with me. more than you know.” the two of you sat there for a while, holding each other in the quiet aftermath of your shared tears. the pain and sorrow were still present, but there was also a sense of connection, of understanding that transcended words. you both knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but in that moment, there was solace in the promise of being there for one another.

you and taeyong honored your pact with a quiet determination that bordered on sacred. the days became a collection of moments, each one more precious than the last, as you spent your time together creating memories that you both knew would one day be the echoes of what once was. the camera was your constant companion, always present but never intrusive, capturing the essence of taeyong as you saw him—strong, vulnerable, endlessly human.

in those weeks, you and him were inseparable, the lines between filmmaker and subject blurring until they no longer mattered. the only difference was the camera, but even that became an extension of your bond, a way to immortalize the fleeting beauty of each day you spent together.

you filmed everything—his quiet moments of introspection, the laughter you shared, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he moved with a grace that belied the weight he carried. you wanted to capture it all, every nuance, every detail, so that when the time came, you would have these memories to hold onto. one afternoon, the two of you were sitting in a sun-drenched park, the warmth of the day wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. the camera rested on its tripod, focused on taeyong as he sat cross-legged on the grass, his head tilted back to catch the rays of the sun. his eyes were closed, a peaceful smile playing on his lips, and for a moment, he looked like he was simply soaking in the beauty of the world around him.

“do you ever wonder what people will remember about you?” he asked, his voice soft as he opened his eyes and turned to you. you lowered the camera, meeting his gaze. “all the time,” you admitted, your voice equally gentle. “but i’m more concerned with how i’ll remember you.”

he smiled, a bittersweet curve of his lips that tugged at your heart. “you’ll remember the good things, i hope,” he said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of sadness. “i’ll remember everything,” you replied, a lump forming in your throat. “every laugh, every tear, every moment we shared. i’ll remember the way you make the world seem brighter just by being in it.”

his eyes softened, and he reached out to take your hand in his. “you make it sound like i’m some kind of miracle,” he said, his voice laced with emotion. “you are,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “you are to me.” the words hung between you, a quiet confession that neither of you needed to elaborate on. the depth of your connection was something that words could never fully capture, but in that moment, you both understood what you meant to each other.

as the weeks passed, you continued to film, capturing every detail of his life. there were moments when the reality of his situation would hit you both, the weight of it all pressing down like a heavy fog. but even in those moments, you found solace in each other, in the knowledge that you were not alone.

one evening, you found yourselves back in the studio, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the overhead lights. taeyong was sitting in a chair, the camera focused on him as he spoke about his journey with cancer, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i’ve come to terms with it,” he said, his eyes distant as he looked into the camera. “i know that my time is limited, but i’m not afraid anymore. i’ve lived a good life, and i’ve been lucky to have people who love me. that’s more than i could have ever asked for.”

you stood behind the camera, your heart aching as you listened to his words. there was a calmness in his voice, a sense of acceptance that both comforted and devastated you. but then, something shifted inside you, a desire to show the world not just the man sitting in front of the camera, but the way you saw him—the way you loved him.

without a word, you turned the camera around, adjusting the focus until it was pointed at yourself. taeyong watched you with a curious expression, his head tilted slightly as he tried to understand what you were doing. “i want everyone to see you the way i do,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you looked into the lens. “i want them to see the man who’s strong and brave, but also the man who’s gentle and kind. i want them to see you through my eyes.”

his expression softened, his eyes filling with unshed tears as he understood the depth of your words. “you’re going to make me cry,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. you gave him a small, tearful smile, your heart pounding in your chest. “maybe it’s time we both let it out,” you said softly.

and then, before you could say anything more, taeyong reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. his touch was tender, his fingers warm against your skin as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was soft, sweet, and filled with a quiet desperation, as if he was trying to pour all the love he had left into that one moment. you kissed him back, your tears mingling with his as the camera captured it all—the love, the sadness, the overwhelming beauty of two souls connected in a way that transcended words.

when you finally pulled away, you were both crying, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. the camera continued to roll, documenting the raw, unfiltered emotions that spilled from your hearts. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears. “i don’t know how much time i have left, but I know i want to spend every second of it with you.”

“i love you too,” you replied, your voice breaking as you spoke the words that had been trapped inside you for so long. “and i’ll be here, right by your side, for as long as you need me.” and when the time came, when the camera was finally turned off and the lights dimmed, you knew that you had done everything you could to show the world the man you loved. the man who had changed your life, who had filled your days with a love so profound that it would linger in your heart long after the film had ended.

the days grew shorter, the light of the sun slipping through the curtains with less intensity as taeyong’s condition deteriorated. the once vibrant and hopeful man you knew was becoming increasingly elusive, his memory fading like the last echoes of a song. it was heartbreaking to witness the gradual erosion of his past, the slow unraveling of the threads that once held his identity together.

yet, even as his memory faltered, one truth remained steadfast—his love for you. it was as if, amidst the fog of confusion, the warmth of his feelings for you was a constant flame that refused to be extinguished. but with each passing day, even this seemed to be on the brink of slipping away.

one afternoon, you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing a meal with a tenderness that mirrored the affection you felt for him. the aroma of the food filled the small apartment, a comforting presence amidst the anxiety that hung in the air. you meticulously arranged the plate, hoping that a familiar taste might bring him some solace.

when you entered the room with the plate of food, taeyong was sitting in his armchair, staring vacantly at the wall. his eyes were distant, his once bright gaze now clouded with confusion. you placed the plate on the small table beside him and gently took his hand in yours. “taeyong,” you said softly, trying to catch his attention. “i made your favorite. i thought it might help you feel a bit better.”

he looked at you, but there was a moment of hesitation, a clouded recognition that struggled to pierce through the haze. his brow furrowed, and for a second, it seemed like he was trying to grasp at a fleeting memory. “i—i’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “i’m trying to remember.”

you could feel the sting of tears behind your eyes as you knelt beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of his struggle. “it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “you don’t have to remember everything. just know that i’m here.” he reached for the plate, his movements slow and uncertain. as he took a bite, you watched him with a mixture of hope and sadness. he chewed slowly, his face reflecting the effort it took to recognize the taste.

with a mouthful of food, he looked at you, a tear slipping down his cheek. “i remember,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “i remember, the taste of your cooking.”

the words hit you like a wave, a bittersweet reminder of the depth of your connection. you nodded, unable to speak as the tears streamed down your face. taeyong continued to eat, each bite accompanied by a flicker of recognition that was as precious as it was painful.

he swallowed hard, his eyes locked on yours, and with a tremor in his voice, he said, “i know your name. i do. it’s...” he faltered, the name on the tip of his tongue slipping away once more. you squeezed his hand gently, your own tears falling freely. “it’s (y/n),” you whispered.

he nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. “yes,” he said through his tears. “(y/n).”

you held his hand tightly, the warmth of his grasp a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions. as he continued to eat, his tears mixed with the food, his sobs muffled by the bite of the meal. the sight of him, struggling to hold onto the fragments of his memory while still reaching out to you, was both heart-wrenching and beautiful. the camera, positioned in the corner of the room, captured the scene with an eerie silence, documenting the raw, unfiltered moments of love and loss. each frame told a story of devotion amidst the sorrow, a testament to the bond that remained even as everything else seemed to fade.

“i love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but carrying the weight of everything he felt. and as you nodded, your own tears still falling, you knew that no matter what else he might forget, this one truth would remain. “i love you too, taeyong,” you whispered back, your voice filled with all the emotion you couldn’t put into words.

the days seemed to blend into one another, each moment weighed down by taeyong’s increasingly distant demeanor. it had become more pronounced recently—he would lose focus mid-sentence, his gaze would drift off into the distance, and he often seemed to be fighting to recall things that once came so easily to him. the sight of his struggle was an unbearable reminder of how fleeting memories could be, and it left you with a deep-seated ache in your chest.

you had been planning this trip for some time, hoping that a change of scenery might help revive his spirits, and today seemed like the right moment to take action. as you looked at him, sitting in the living room with a distant expression, you took a deep breath and gently broached the subject.

“i think we should go on a trip,” you said softly, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil in your heart. “a change of pace might do us both some good.” he looked up from where he had been absentmindedly tracing patterns on the arm of his chair. “a trip?” he echoed, his voice tinged with curiosity and something else—perhaps a flicker of hope.

you nodded, a small, encouraging smile on your lips. “back to seoul. i thought it might be nice to revisit some places we used to go. what do you think?” a faint smile touched his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “seoul sounds good,” he said quietly. “i’d like that.”

the journey back was a quiet one, filled with moments of introspective silence as the cityscape rolled by outside the car window. taeyong’s hand rested on his lap, and you kept your gaze fixed on the road ahead, doing your best to manage the mix of anticipation and anxiety that churned within you.

as you arrived in seoul, the city seemed to envelop you both in its familiar embrace. the streets were alive with the hum of activity, the vibrant buzz of the city a stark contrast to the somber mood that had settled over taeyong. you drove slowly, making your way to a park you both had cherished during your youth.

the park came into view, and you could see the large, welcoming expanse of green surrounded by towering trees. you parked the car and took his hand, gently guiding him out and toward the entrance. his steps were hesitant at first, but as you led him along the familiar path, you could see a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

the park was just as you remembered—an oasis of tranquility amidst the bustling city, its paths winding through lush greenery and blooming flowers. you guided him to a bench beneath a grand old oak tree, its branches stretching out like welcoming arms. the sun filtered through the leaves, casting a dappled shadow on the ground.

you sat down beside him, your heart pounding as you pulled out your camera, ready to capture the moment. “do you remember this place?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. he looked around, his eyes roaming the landscape with a mixture of confusion and dawning comprehension. “i think so,” he said slowly, his voice tentative. “it feels familiar.”

you smiled encouragingly, urging him to take it all in. “we used to come here all the time. we’d sit here and talk for hours. this was one of our favorite spots.” the transformation was gradual but undeniable. as taeyong took in his surroundings, a wave of recognition seemed to wash over him. his eyes grew wider, and you saw the struggle as he fought to connect the fragments of memory that were beginning to surface.

a tremor of emotion passed through him as he began to recall the days spent in this very park—the laughter, the conversations, the dreams you had shared. “i remember,” he said softly, a mixture of awe and sorrow in his voice. “i remember coming here with you. we’d sit here and talk, about everything.”

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you watched him. “yes,” you whispered. “we did. and i wanted to bring you back here, because this place means so much to both of us.” he reached out, taking your hand in his, and for a moment, it was as if time had folded itself back upon itself. his touch was tender, filled with a longing that echoed the depth of his emotions. he looked at you with an expression that was both familiar and poignant.

“i’ve missed this,” he said, his voice breaking. “i’ve missed us.” you squeezed his hand, feeling a mixture of relief and heartache. “i’ve missed us too,” you replied, your voice trembling.

as you continued filming, capturing the raw and beautiful reality of the moment, his emotions seemed to overflow. he stood up slowly, his gaze locked with yours, and wrapped his arms around you. you were caught off guard by the intensity of his embrace, but you melted into it, holding him tightly. he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and filled with a bittersweet intensity. the kiss was a silent testament to all the love you had shared, all the memories that you both cherished, and the reality of the present moment.

when he pulled back, his eyes were glistening with tears, and you could see the depth of his emotions reflected in his gaze. “thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with a heartfelt gratitude. “thank you for bringing me here.” you nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat. Instead, you continued filming, letting the camera capture the poignancy of the moment—the way his eyes shone with love and the way you clung to each other amidst the memories and emotions that surrounded you.

the days seemed to bring a renewed sense of hope, a fragile light that flickered more brightly with each passing moment. taeyong's health appeared to be stabilizing, and the improvement, though modest, filled both of you with a cautious optimism. the treatments had begun to take effect, and his spirits were visibly lifted. he even began to joke about the future, something that had seemed almost impossible just weeks before.

the film project, which had started as a painful exploration of his battle with cancer, had come to an end. with it wrapped up, you decided it was time for the two of you to watch it together, to relive the journey and see how far you had come. you felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you prepared the playback.

you set up the projector in the cozy living room, dimming the lights and arranging the comfortable cushions on the floor. taeyong sat beside you, his presence a comforting anchor as you both settled in to review the film. the screen flickered to life, and the first images began to play.

as the film unfolded, you watched every moment with a mixture of tears and a wistful smile. each frame was a testament to the love and pain you had shared, the highs and lows of the journey that had brought you closer together. the scenes of his struggle, his strength, and the tender moments between you both played out before your eyes. the footage captured his vulnerability, his laughter, and the quiet moments of reflection.

his face was a canvas of emotions as he watched the film, his expression shifting from sadness to nostalgia, and then to a gentle smile. he leaned his head against your shoulder, seeking comfort in your presence as the film continued. you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, a small solace in the midst of the emotional whirlwind.

you turned to look at him, only to find his eyes closed, his face serene yet pale. the sight of him resting so peacefully, so vulnerably, sent a pang of anxiety through your heart. you reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, hoping to provide him with some comfort.

as the film reached its climax, taeyong opened his eyes slowly, meeting your gaze with a faint, bittersweet smile. the change in him was stark; his face looked more drawn, his breaths more labored. the realization of what was happening hit you with a force that left you breathless. his once-hopeful demeanor was now overshadowed by a profound weakness.

“smile for me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with a tender request.

tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to maintain your composure. you managed a trembling smile, forcing through the waves of sorrow that threatened to overtake you. the smile you gave him was full of love, a desperate attempt to hold onto the beauty of the moment even as the reality of his condition loomed over you.

a tear slipped down taeyong’s cheek as he closed his eyes again, leaning his head on your shoulder with a quiet resignation. the sight of his tear, so vulnerable and raw, broke something within you. you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, trying to offer whatever comfort you could.

through your own tears, you whispered, “you’ll wake up, taeyong. we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

you clung to the hope that somehow, despite everything, you would get another chance to share a moment, to hear his laugh again, to hold him close. but as you looked at his pale, still form, you knew deep down that this was the end. the light in his eyes was fading, his breaths coming slower and more shallow.

the film continued to play softly in the background, the images a stark contrast to the stillness between you. you felt the weight of the moment, the enormity of the farewell that was unfolding. his breathing grew even more labored, and his grip on you loosened. his eyes remained closed, a final tear slipping from the corner of his eye as he succumbed to the darkness that had been slowly encroaching upon him. you held him close, your own tears flowing freely, your heart breaking with the finality of the situation.

the room seemed to grow colder, the warmth of his presence slipping away. you could feel the heavy silence settling around you, punctuated only by the soft hum of the film projector. you held him tightly, your tears mingling with his as you whispered to him, your voice breaking with sorrow. you had fulfilled his final wish. you had given him a smile to remember.

✧.*

a/n: i'm ngl i cried writing this bye