Would Anybody Be Interested In A Fem!reader X Fem!idol Ff? Or Should I Stick To Male Idols

would anybody be interested in a fem!reader x fem!idol ff? or should i stick to male idols

roses (장미) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* WC: 11.9K

✧.* SYN: polar opposites were said to attract, but nobody specified when. no matter how beautiful, no matter how enchanting—sometimes, they were just made to repel.

✧.* 16+

roses were meant to be the symbol of love—romance captured in its purest form. their petals, silken and fragile, were light against the fingertips, and their colors, from the softest blush to the deepest crimson, seemed to glow with a kind of inner fire. roses were everything beautiful, everything tender. but to you, they were a lie.

for every rose, no matter how lovely, was laced with thorns. they were subtle, hiding just beneath the surface, waiting for a careless touch to remind you of their presence. they never scarred your fingers on purpose—how could they? the flowers themselves had no say in the sharpness of their defenses. and yet, they always found a way to mar your skin, leaving behind thin lines of pain, tiny rivers of blood mingling with the red of the petals. it was as if the rose took your blood as payment for its beauty, demanding a piece of you in exchange for the admiration it commanded. you couldn't see them as others did. where others saw a token of love, you saw a warning—a reminder that beauty often came with a cost, and that love, no matter how sweet, could hurt just as deeply.

you hated roses. not because they weren't beautiful, but because their beauty was tainted by the inevitability of pain. they were a paradox, a contradiction you could never reconcile. to love them was to accept the wounds they left behind, and you had no desire to be wounded. jungkook, with his warm eyes and gentle smile, knew this about you. he knew it better than anyone.

when you first started dating, he surprised you with a bouquet of red roses, each bloom more perfect than the last. they were vibrant, luxurious, their scent intoxicating in its richness. you smiled when you saw them, because how could you not? they were beautiful, after all, and he had chosen them with you in mind. but beneath your smile, a familiar unease churned. nothing that truly loved you, no matter how beautiful, would never hurt you. you didn't want to hurt his feelings, didn't want to dampen the joy in his eyes, so you accepted them with as much grace as you could muster. you held them close, careful not to let your fingers brush too harshly against the thorns. you placed them in water, tended to them, watched as their petals unfurled further, revealing their full splendor. yet, no matter how much care you gave them, they remained a symbol of everything you couldn't bring yourself to love.

the roses, with their beauty and their thorns, became a silent metaphor for your fears. they were a constant reminder that love—true, deep love—wasn't without its dangers. that even the most beautiful things could hurt you if you weren't careful. and so, while you couldn't see the beauty in the roses, you saw it in jungkook. you saw it in the way he beamed when he handed them to you, in the tenderness of his voice when he asked if you liked them. you saw the care he took in choosing them, the thoughtfulness behind his actions, and you loved him all the more for it. but the roses themselves? they remained, as ever, a source of quiet torment.

it wasn't until after a few dates that you finally confessed the truth. you remember the moment vividly—the way the words tumbled out of your mouth, hesitant yet firm, as you told him you didn't like roses. you hadn't intended to hurt him, and you could see the brief flicker of embarrassment in his eyes, the way his shoulders tensed slightly. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his voice tinged with regret. his fingers traced the edge of your hand, a silent apology in his touch.

you sighed, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “i didn’t want to disappoint you. you were so thoughtful, i just didn’t have the heart to say it.”

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor as if he’d wronged you in some unforgivable way. “i didn’t know.”

“it’s okay,” you assured him gently, lifting his chin so that his eyes met yours. “i kept every single one.” his eyes softened at your words, and a small, sheepish smile curved his lips. “really?”

“really,” you confirmed, squeezing his hand. “i may not love roses, but i love the thought behind them.”

the roses stopped after that day. in their place came something simpler, something that held a different kind of beauty. jungkook began to bring you dandelions, plucked from wherever he could find them, their bright yellow heads bobbing on slender green stems. they were humble, unpretentious, the kind of flower people often overlooked or dismissed as weeds. but to you, they were perfect.

you loved the way they scattered in the wind, carrying with them the weight of a thousand wishes. every time you held one in your hand, you couldn't resist closing your eyes, drawing in a breath, and blowing gently, sending the delicate seeds spiraling into the air. with each breath, you made a wish—small, secret hopes you whispered to the universe, trusting that somehow, some way, they would be heard. jungkook always watched you with a soft smile as you did this, his eyes never leaving your face. “what did you wish for?” he would ask, his voice warm and curious.

but you never told him. you always shook your head, a playful smile on your lips as you teased him with your silence. “i can’t tell you,” you’d say, “or it won’t come true.”

he would laugh, a rich, melodic sound that made your heart feel lighter than air. “one day, you’ll have to tell me,” he’d insist, though there was no urgency in his words—just the quiet patience of someone willing to wait as long as it took.

and maybe, one day, you would tell him. But for now, you kept your wishes close, letting them flutter away with the dandelion seeds, drifting on the breeze like tiny prayers. in truth, you always wished for the same thing—that you could hold on to this moment, to this feeling, forever. that the love you shared with jungkook, so pure and gentle, would last as long as there were dandelions to carry your wishes. you found comfort in the simplicity of the dandelions. there were no thorns, no hidden dangers. they were honest in their imperfection, and in that honesty, you found a kind of beauty that roses could never offer. the dandelions became a symbol of your love—humble, enduring, and free from the pain that had always accompanied the roses.

and every time jungkook brought you one, it felt like a promise—a promise that he understood, that he knew what you needed even before you did. it was a promise that he would never bring you pain, that he would love you in all the ways you needed to be loved, without the thorns, without the scars. you held on to that promise, just as you held on to each dandelion he gave you, treasuring it for what it was—a gift, not just of love, but of understanding. and as the seeds danced away on the wind, you knew that your wishes were safe, carried on the breath of a love that was as gentle and enduring as the flowers themselves.

“here’s your shirt,” you murmured, handing him the neatly folded fabric that felt heavier in your hands than it should have. the weight of finality clung to it, as if the fibers themselves had absorbed the tension between you, the countless unspoken words and unresolved feelings woven into the threads. you had gathered the last of jungkook's things, the remnants of a love that had once filled your home with warmth and light but now seemed to haunt it, like echoes of laughter long gone.

he took the shirt from you without looking up, his fingers brushing yours in a way that used to send a shiver of excitement through you. now, it only brought a dull ache, a reminder of what was slipping away. he had changed so much over the past year. the bright-eyed boy who once looked at you as if you hung the stars had morphed into someone distant, cold. his eyes, once filled with a warmth that made you feel seen, had grown dim, as though the light within him had burned out, leaving nothing but the shadows behind.

jungkook had quickly become the tear in your eye and the tear in your heart, a source of pain that gnawed at you from the inside out. he was no longer the man you fell in love with, but a stranger wearing his skin. you had watched the change happen slowly at first, like a creeping frost on a windowpane, but then it had sped up, and before you knew it, the warmth between you had been replaced by an icy silence. it was a silence that had once been comfortable, a shared space where words weren't needed because the understanding between you was so deep. now, it was a chasm, wide and unbridgeable, filled with all the things you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

the end had come faster than you had anticipated, but perhaps that was how these things always happened. you tried to brace yourself, to prepare for the inevitable, telling yourself over and over that not everything was forever. it was a mantra you repeated to numb the pain, to convince yourself that you could accept it. but how were you supposed to accept losing him when every part of you still clung to the hope that things could be different? that somehow, the man you loved was still in there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and distance?

you watched as he turned away from you, his manner dismissive in that distinctly masculine, emotionally restrained way that cut you deeper than any harsh word ever could. It was as if he had already moved on, as if this—your heartbreak—was nothing more than a trivial inconvenience. you knew he felt the weight of it too, that he wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted you to believe, but his silence was a wall, thick and impenetrable, that you couldn’t break through no matter how hard you tried.

he was about to walk out of your life for the last time, and you couldn't let him go without trying, just one more time, to reach him. to make him understand what this meant to you. the words were heavy on your tongue, almost too painful to speak, but you forced them out, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “i wished,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. the words caught in your throat, and you had to swallow hard to keep going. “i wished for us to be forever.”

the simplicity of the statement hung in the air between you, raw and vulnerable. it was the truth, stripped of all pretense, the most honest thing you had said in a long time. it was the wish you had made countless times, with dandelion seeds drifting on the wind, with every shooting star that crossed the night sky, with every single breath you had taken while lying beside him in the quiet of the night. it was the wish you had carried in your heart since the beginning, even as things began to unravel, even as the distance between you grew.

you saw the slight falter in his step as the words reached him. he stopped in his tracks, his back still turned to you, and for a moment, you thought he might say something. you held your breath, waiting for the sound of his voice, for anything that would tell you he still cared, that he still felt something. but the silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive, and you realized with a sinking heart that there was nothing left to say. he let the silence fill the space between you, allowing it to drown out your words, as if by not responding, he could erase them from existence.

the seconds dragged on like hours, the silence suffocating you as you stood there, waiting for a response that would never come. jungkook knew you were behind him, could probably feel the weight of your gaze on his back, but he didn't turn around. he didn't offer you the comfort of his eyes, the soft reassurance of his voice. Instead, he walked back inside, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that echoed through the empty spaces of your heart.

you stared at the closed door, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to cry. not there, not now. you had given him everything—your love, your trust, your dreams of a future together. and now, you had nothing left to give. the door had closed, not just on this chapter of your life, but on the possibility of ever finding solace in his arms again. the silence that followed was no longer comforting. it was deafening, a void that pressed in on you from all sides, reminding you of what you had lost. and in that silence, you knew the truth—you were no longer there. not in his heart, not in his mind. the person you had been, the person who had loved him with every fiber of her being, was gone, leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell of who you once were.

you forced yourself to leave, to walk away from the door that had once opened so easily for you. each step felt like a struggle, as if the weight of your heartbreak was pulling you down, making it hard to move forward. but you kept going, because you had no other choice. you couldn't stay in that place any longer, surrounded by memories that would only serve to haunt you. as you stepped out into the cool evening air, the world felt different—dimmer, less vibrant. It was as if the color had been drained from everything, leaving behind only shades of gray. the wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of roses from a nearby garden. you inhaled sharply, the scent stinging your senses like the thorns that had once pierced your skin. and just like those thorns, the memories of your time with jungkook would leave scars—scars that would take time to heal, if they ever did at all.

you walked away, leaving behind the man who had once been your everything, and with each step, you felt the weight of the past slowly lifting from your shoulders. but the pain remained, sharp and aching, a reminder that some wounds run too deep to ever fully heal. and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in darkness, you couldn't help but wonder if the wish you had once held so close to your heart had been nothing more than a foolish dream, carried away on the wind like dandelion seeds, never to come true.

when you returned home, the silence greeted you like an unwelcome guest, settling into every corner of the house, amplifying the emptiness that seemed to have grown overnight. the house felt colder, emptier than it ever had before, as though the very walls had absorbed the sorrow that weighed so heavily on your heart. and yet, nothing had changed. the furniture was still in its place, the same pictures hung on the walls, the same sunlight filtered through the windows, casting the same patterns on the floor. everything was as it had been, and yet, it all felt different—foreign, somehow, like you were a stranger in your own home.

you didn’t know why you had expected it to be any different. why had you thought, even for a moment, that the world would stop spinning on its axis just because your heart had been shattered? the absurdity of the thought struck you as both laughable and tragic. your heart was broken, yet the world found a way to keep spinning, indifferent to your pain. the birds still sang outside, the traffic still moved along the streets, and somewhere, people were still laughing, still loving, still living their lives as if nothing had happened. the world carried on, and you were left to pick up the pieces of a life that had been torn apart.

as you moved through the house, your gaze fell on the roses he had given you, still thriving in the crystal vases where you had carefully placed them. they stood proudly, their petals full and vibrant, a stark contrast to the withered dandelions that lay beside them. you had been diligent in changing the water, making sure the roses had everything they needed to flourish. and flourish they did, their beauty almost mocking in its perfection, as if to remind you of the love that had once been so full of promise.

but the dandelions—oh, the dandelions—they had not fared as well. you had taken extra care of them, watering them more frequently than you ever had with any other flowers, desperately trying to keep them alive. they were delicate, fragile things, just like the wishes you had whispered into the wind, and you had wanted them to last, to hold on to their golden beauty for just a little longer. but no matter how much care you gave them, they still found a way to wilt, their once bright yellow heads now drooping, petals shriveled and brown. they had died on you, leaving you with nothing but the memory of the hopes they had carried.

it was a bitter realization—one that struck deep, piercing through the numbness that had settled in your chest. you needed to stop watering dead flowers. the thought echoed in your mind, a painful truth you had been avoiding for far too long. the dandelions were gone, just like the love you had once shared with jungkook, and no amount of water or care could bring them back. it was over, and you had to let go. but letting go felt like an impossibility, like trying to breathe under water—each attempt only filled your lungs with more pain.

your eyes returned to the roses, and you realized just how little had changed. their beauty did not bring you any comfort. instead, it filled you with a deep, aching sense of emptiness. their perfection was a lie, a facade that hid the thorns lying just beneath the surface. thorns that had always been there, even when you hadn’t seen them, ready to pierce through the skin at the slightest touch. they were beautiful, yes, but their beauty came at a cost—one that you had paid dearly.

your heart sank as you reached out for the roses, your hand trembling slightly as you wrapped your fingers around the stems. you felt every prick, the way the thorns dug into the tender flesh of your palm, piercing through the surface with sharp, unyielding precision. the pain should have made you flinch, should have forced you to pull back, but instead, you tightened your grip, welcoming the sensation. it was almost a relief to feel something other than the hollow numbness that had been consuming you.

you watched, detached, as your blood began to seep from the wounds, mingling with the bright red petals, the crimson droplets staining the clear water. it was a sight both grotesque and mesmerizing—your life force mingling with the very thing that had symbolized your love, now tainted and corrupted. and yet, for the first time, it didn’t hurt. the pain was there, yes, but it was distant, as though it belonged to someone else, a stranger who had nothing to do with you.

you loosened your grip, letting the stems slip from your fingers and fall back into the vase. the blood on your hand began to dry, a faint stinging sensation left behind as a reminder of the thorns' touch. but the pain no longer mattered. it was just another sensation in a world that had become a blur of emotions too complex to untangle. you turned away from the flowers, leaving them behind as you walked further into the house, each step echoing in the silence that had settled around you. the rooms felt colder, the air thicker, as if the very atmosphere had shifted, mourning the loss that had taken place within those walls. but there was nothing left to mourn.

you slept. it was easier that way, easier to slip into the quiet oblivion of dreams where reality couldn’t reach you, where the sharp edges of your pain were softened, blurred by the fog of sleep. you slept because every time you woke up, the world was colder, more hostile, and you were too weak to face it. the bed, once shared, now felt like a vast, empty expanse, a void that swallowed you whole. the sheets still carried his scent, faint but there, a cruel reminder of what was lost. so, you buried yourself beneath them, cocooning yourself in a fragile barrier against the world.

every time you woke up, you were confronted with the same brutal truth: he was gone. the realization came slowly, like a wave that started far off in the distance, gaining strength as it approached until it crashed over you, relentless and unforgiving. it would hit you as you blinked yourself awake, in that brief, disorienting moment where you didn’t quite remember where you were. you reached out instinctively, your hand searching the space beside you, but it met only the cool emptiness of the sheets. the ache in your chest deepened, a hollow, gnawing pain that seemed to settle into your very bones.

you felt the urge to call him, to reach out to him, to hear his voice on the other end of the line—steady, warm, reassuring. your fingers would hover over your phone, trembling with the need to dial his number, to send a message, anything to break the silence that pressed down on you. but what was there to say? what could you possibly tell him that hadn’t already been left unspoken? the words died in your throat, choked by the knowledge that it wouldn’t change anything. he was no longer there, and no amount of pleading or wishing would bring him back.

and so, you turned away from the phone, sinking back into the bed, pulling the covers over your head as though you could block out the world itself. sleep became your refuge, your escape from the brutal clarity of consciousness. in sleep, you could forget, if only for a little while. in sleep, the weight of reality lifted, and you drifted into a world where things were as they should be, where he was still there, still yours.

but every time you woke up, the reality would crash back down on you, harder and more unbearable than before. the bed felt colder, the room emptier, and the silence heavier. it was as if the universe itself was conspiring to remind you of what you had lost, what had slipped through your fingers like grains of sand, impossible to grasp and hold on to. the disbelief settled into your chest like a stone, heavy and cold. it was easier to cling to that disbelief than to accept the truth, easier to let yourself be carried away by the numbness than to face the searing pain that lay just beneath the surface. you couldn’t believe it had happened, refused to let yourself truly accept that he was gone. had it happened? had you really lost him? the questions circled in your mind, relentless, unanswered, each one twisting the knife a little deeper into your heart.

you were confused, disoriented, lost in a labyrinth of grief that you didn’t know how to navigate. the world outside seemed distant, almost unreal, as though you were floating through it without truly being a part of it. the memories of him lingered like ghosts, haunting every corner of your mind, and you couldn’t tell where the past ended and the present began. everything was a blur, a swirl of emotions too tangled to unravel.

and so, you went back to sleep, because in sleep, the lines between reality and dreams were blurred, and you could still see him, still feel him. in your dreams, he was there, whole and real, his smile warm and bright, his touch gentle. in your dreams, he hadn’t left you, hadn’t walked away, and the world was still as it should be. you clung to those moments, those fleeting glimpses of a world that no longer existed, because they were all you had left. in sleep, the disbelief settled into temporary joy, a fragile, fleeting happiness that only existed in the depths of your mind. you knew it wasn’t real, knew that it would shatter the moment you woke up, but you held on to it anyway, desperate for any scrap of comfort. you would see him in your dreams, and for those precious moments, everything would be okay. you would laugh with him, talk with him, hold him, and it was as if nothing had changed.

but then you would wake up, and the illusion would fade, leaving you more broken than before. the bed would feel colder, the room quieter, the silence more suffocating. and you would lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself to get up, to face the day, but the weight of your denial would pull you back under. so you would close your eyes again, praying for sleep to take you, to pull you back into that world where he still existed, where you could pretend, if only for a little while, that everything was still the same. and so, you slept. and slept. and slept. because it was easier than facing the reality of a world without him.

jungkook shut down. it wasn’t something he consciously decided to do, but rather an instinctual retreat into himself, like a wounded animal seeking shelter in the darkest corner of the forest. his emotions were a storm that threatened to tear him apart, so he did the only thing he knew how—he numbed himself. he buried the pain deep, far beneath the surface, where he hoped it would never see the light of day.

his days became a monotonous blur of routine. he went through the motions, each one devoid of the color and warmth that had once defined his life. there was a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth that never seemed to go away, a constant reminder of the emptiness that had taken root in his heart. he woke up, dressed himself, and headed to the gym, as if the physical exertion could somehow drown out the chaos in his mind.

the gym became a sanctuary, the one place where he could lose himself in the rhythmic clanging of weights and the steady thump of his heartbeat in his ears. he lifted, the strain on his muscles a welcome distraction from the thoughts that threatened to consume him. he ran, his feet pounding against the treadmill in a desperate attempt to outrun the memories of you. but no matter how fast or how far he ran, they always threatened to catch up with him, lingering at the edges of his consciousness like a persistent shadow.

he pushed himself harder, ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like they would give out beneath him. he jogged, then walked, then jogged again, anything to keep his body moving, to keep his mind from spiraling into the dark places he feared. the pain in his muscles was a dull, constant ache, but it was nothing compared to the void inside him, the hollow ache that seemed to have settled in his chest.

when he left the gym, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, he found himself wandering aimlessly, as if searching for something—anything—that could fill the emptiness. he went to the market, seeking the comfort of familiarity in the mundane task of picking out fresh fruit. but even there, you haunted him. he would see the watermelons stacked neatly on the shelves, their bright, green rinds a stark contrast to the dullness of his mood, and he would be reminded of how much you loved them. he could almost hear your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how sweet and refreshing they were on a hot summer day. the memory would twist the knife in his chest, and he would force himself to look away, to walk away, leaving the market with nothing but a bitter taste in his mouth.

nights were the worst. the silence of his apartment was suffocating, the loneliness almost unbearable. he started going to bars with his friends, seeking solace in the mind-numbing effects of alcohol. it was easier that way—easier to drown his sorrows in liquor, to forget, even if it was just for a little while. he would order round after round, paying for everyone, desperate to keep the drinks flowing, to keep the laughter and noise around him as a buffer against the silence that awaited him at home.

his friends would cheer, their voices loud and boisterous, their smiles wide and carefree. he would force himself to smile along with them, to laugh at their jokes, even as he felt the icy tendrils of grief winding tighter around his heart. the alcohol would dull the edges of his pain, make the world seem softer, more bearable, and for a few fleeting hours, he could almost forget. but he knew it wouldn’t last. it never did. he clung to those moments of reprieve, no matter how brief, no matter how hollow they left him feeling afterward. because as long as he could keep the pain at bay, as long as he could pretend, just for a little while, that he wasn’t completely shattered inside, he could survive. he needed those moments to last, needed them to stretch out into the dark hours of the night, to carry him through until the morning light.

but even as he forced himself to keep moving, to keep pushing forward, there was a part of him that knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. the weight of his grief was a constant, oppressive presence, and no amount of physical exertion or alcohol could truly erase it. he was running on borrowed time, and deep down, he feared the day when the numbness would wear off, and he would be left to face the full force of his emotions. so he shut down, closed himself off, and went through the motions, day after day, night after night. because it was easier than feeling, easier than confronting the reality of what he had lost. he couldn’t afford to break down, couldn’t afford to let himself fall apart, because he didn’t know if he would ever be able to put himself back together again.

you couldn’t cling to the false reality you had carefully constructed any longer. the threads holding it together unraveled, leaving you exposed to the raw truth you had desperately tried to ignore. the more you tried to force yourself back into the numb comfort of denial, the more reality clawed its way into your consciousness, demanding to be acknowledged. “why me?” the question echoed in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. you couldn’t understand how this had happened to you, how your life had spiraled into a pit of despair so deep you couldn’t see the bottom. what had you done to deserve this? what crime had you committed that was so terrible, so unforgivable, that you were now being punished in such a cruel and merciless way?

your thoughts were a chaotic swirl of anger and confusion, a storm that raged within you with no outlet, no direction. the more you tried to reason with yourself, the more frustrated you became. who could you blame for this? was it your fault? his? the universe’s? the questions tormented you, gnawing at your sanity, and with every passing minute, the fury inside you grew stronger, more uncontrollable.

there was nobody to lash out at, nobody to direct your anger toward. you were alone, left to wrestle with the seething emotions that had taken up residence in your heart. and every time your gaze fell upon the roses, still standing tall in their vase, they seemed to mock you, their vibrant beauty a contrast to the darkness that had settled over your life. they thrived, even as everything else around you withered away. their presence was a constant reminder of the love that had once been and the pain that remained. you had every right to hate them.

your hands trembled as you reached for the television remote, the plastic cool and unyielding against your skin. without thinking, you hurled it across the room, your vision blurring with the force of your anger. the vase shattered into a thousand tiny shards of glass, scattering across the floor in a sparkling array of destruction. but the roses—those damned roses—remained intact, their petals untouched, as if the chaos around them couldn’t reach their perfection.

you stared at the mess you had made, your chest heaving with ragged breaths, but there were no tears left to shed. the sadness that had once consumed you had been swallowed up by a burning rage, a fire that seemed to scorch everything in its path. how could he do this to you? how could he walk away, leaving you to pick up the pieces of a life that no longer made sense? the injustice of it all fueled the inferno in your heart, and you found yourself consumed by a single, overpowering desire: revenge. you wanted him to suffer, to feel the guilt that you believed should be eating away at him every second of every day. you wanted him to see you, to be reminded of everything he had thrown away, and you wanted him to beg for your forgiveness. if you couldn’t have peace, then you would have the satisfaction of knowing that he didn’t either.

with newfound resolve, you began to ready yourself. you meticulously prepared, every brush of makeup, every stroke of mascara, a declaration of war against the version of yourself that had crumbled in the wake of heartbreak. you refused to be the victim any longer. you would go out, find the pieces of yourself that still remained, and piece them together into something new—something that would draw his eyes back to you and make him realize what he had lost. you chose the bar carefully, the one where you knew he was a regular, where the chances of seeing him were high. as you slipped into a dress that clung to your figure, accentuating every curve, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. but the woman who looked back at you was a stranger—her eyes were sharp, glittering with the fury that had replaced every other emotion. the void was gone, buried beneath layers of anger and the determination to make him pay for the pain he had caused.

your heart hammered in your chest, a drumbeat of anticipation, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when you saw him. would he recognize you? would he see the fire in your eyes and understand that it was his doing? or would he turn away, indifferent to the transformation you had undergone? as you made your way to the door, your heels clicking against the floor, you clung to the hope that he would be there, that he would see you and fall to his knees in regret. but even as you tried to convince yourself that this was the outcome you wanted, a small, uncertain voice whispered in the back of your mind, asking if this was truly who you had become—someone who thrived on anger and revenge, who found solace in the idea of another’s suffering.

but you pushed that voice aside, determined to see this through. the fury in your veins was the only thing that felt real anymore, the only thing that kept you going. and so, you walked out the door, ready to confront the man who had once been your everything, even if it meant losing the last remnants of yourself in the process.

jungkook’s world had narrowed to a single point of focus—the relentless, unyielding ache inside him that refused to be named or tamed. it simmered beneath his skin, a beast with no outlet, coiled and ready to strike. the gym had become his sanctuary, a place where he could pound his fists into the heavy bag until his knuckles were raw and bleeding, until the sharp pain in his hands was all that existed in his mind. but even that wasn’t enough.

he hit the bag harder, his bare fists connecting with brutal force, over and over again. the sting of torn skin, the dull throb in his bones—none of it registered. all he knew was the rhythmic, punishing impact of his fists against the leather, the way his breath came in ragged gasps, the way his blood seemed to boil beneath the surface. he didn’t care that his knuckles were split, didn’t notice the way his sweat dripped off him in steady streams, matting his hair to his forehead and soaking through his clothes. he was beyond caring, beyond feeling anything other than the rage that consumed him.

he didn’t realize how loud the sound of his fists smashing into the bag had become, didn’t notice the way other gym-goers had started to watch, their eyes widening at the intensity of his aggression. they stared, some concerned, others keeping their distance, wary of the energy radiating off him in waves. but jungkook was oblivious, his focus entirely on the bag in front of him, as if it held all the answers to the chaos in his mind.

his thoughts were a tangled mess, a storm that raged without end. why was this happening to him? what had he done to deserve this? he needed answers, needed someone to blame, but the more he searched for a reason, the more elusive it became. the frustration gnawed at him, clawing at the inside of his chest until he felt like he might explode. he couldn’t make sense of the turmoil inside him, couldn’t find a way to quiet the incessant pounding of his heart or the restless tapping of his feet as he stood there, trying to regain control.

jungkook’s fingers twitched, playing with the edges of his gym towel, twisting it into knots as if the physical action could somehow unravel the knots inside his own head. his heart raced, a frantic beat that seemed to echo in the silence of his mind, a silence that only made him angrier. he hated the quiet, hated the way it left him alone with his thoughts, with the voices that whispered all sorts of things to him, things he didn’t want to hear, things that only made the fury inside him burn hotter.

he needed an escape, a way to release the tension that coiled inside him like a spring wound too tight. but nothing worked—nothing took the edge off the anger that bubbled just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment. he needed to feel something other than this gnawing, hollow rage, needed to drown out the noise in his head, even if only for a little while.

so he did what he always did when the pressure became too much to bear—he turned to the only temporary relief he knew. the bar called to him, a beacon of false hope in the darkness that had become his life. there, among the noise and the laughter, the clinking of glasses and the buzz of conversation, he could lose himself, if only for a little while. the alcohol would burn away the edges of his anger, would blur the sharp lines of his thoughts until they were nothing more than a dull ache in the back of his mind. he craved that numbness, the brief respite it offered, even if it never lasted.

as he left the gym, his mind was still running wild, the voices still whispering insidiously, feeding his anger, pushing him to the edge. he could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his hands still shook slightly from the exertion, the way his heart pounded with unresolved fury. but he pushed it all down, burying it deep inside as he made his way to the bar, seeking out the oblivion he so desperately needed. the world outside seemed indifferent to his turmoil—the sun still shone, people still went about their day, oblivious to the storm that raged within him. and that only made him angrier, made him feel even more isolated, as if he was the only one trapped in this endless cycle of anger and pain. but the bar was waiting, the promise of temporary relief dangling just out of reach, and he latched onto that hope, no matter how fleeting, no matter how false. it was all he had left.

you stepped into the bar with a forced sense of confidence, your heels clicking against the worn wooden floor as you entered. the dim lighting cast shadows over your face, but you convinced yourself that every pair of eyes followed your every move. you had to believe it, even if it wasn’t true. you were determined to be the center of attention, to show the world, and more importantly, to show him what he had let go.

as you approached the bar, you held your head high, the tension in your shoulders disguising the fragility beneath. the bartender caught your eye, and you ordered your drink with a voice that sounded stronger than you felt. the glass was cool in your hand, a momentary relief as you took a sip. the burn of the alcohol was sharp, a distraction from the thoughts swirling in your mind.

with every sip, the anger that had fueled you began to dissipate, leaving a hollow space in its wake. the bar's noise faded into the background, and your thoughts grew louder, clearer. you began to think—really think—about everything that had happened. the whirlwind of emotions, the moments you thought were forever, and the sudden, jarring end that left you lost.

the more you thought, the more you began to pray. it started as a whisper in your mind, a plea to the universe, to whatever force controlled fate. you begged for a chance to undo the past, to turn back time, to rewrite your story. you wished for him, for the universe to bring him back into your life, for the pain to dissolve and be replaced with the love you once knew.

your thoughts spiraled, one after another, questioning everything. what if you had done something differently? what if you had fought harder, loved him more, or been more forgiving? what if this was all a test, and you were meant to prove that your love was stronger than the pain? you pondered every possibility, every twist of fate that could have led to a different ending. the more you thought, the more desperate your prayers became. you weren’t just asking—you were begging, pleading with whatever power might be listening. you needed him back; you needed him to see you, to realize what he had walked away from. you would do anything, give anything, to have him in your life again.

as you stared into the depths of your glass, the alcohol no longer brought relief. Instead, it amplified the ache in your chest, the void that only he could fill. the world around you faded, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your prayers, and the unbearable longing that consumed you. you wanted to make it clear, to whatever force might be listening, that you would do anything—everything—to have him back. you needed him to know, needed the universe to know, that your love was stronger than the pain, stronger than the anger, and that you were willing to fight for it, no matter the cost.

jungkook walked through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air biting at his skin, but he barely felt it. his thoughts were too loud, drowning out the world around him. he replayed every moment with you in his mind, dissecting each word, each touch, each mistake. the pain in his chest was sharp, a constant reminder of what he had lost. he wondered if there was anything he could do to have you back, even for a fleeting moment.

he knew the truth, though. he knew he couldn’t have you the way he used to. he had been selfish, too caught up in his own world, too focused on his own fears. he had pushed you away, bit by bit, until there was nothing left to hold onto. you were the opposite of him in so many ways. where he was sharp and jagged, you were soft and warm. where he built walls, you built bridges. you knew how to fulfill wishes, how to bring hope to the hopeless. that was why people were drawn to you, why they loved you.

but he had pushed you away, scared you off with his sharpness, with the very things he thought were protecting him. he often hurt people, unintentionally but inevitably, and it was exactly how he lost you. he hated himself for it, for letting his fears get in the way of something so beautiful. he was beautiful on the outside, and you knew it. but the more he had let you in, the more he found himself hurting you, even if it wasn’t intentional. you had a way of mingling with the night sky, floating in the air in an etherreal way that gave those around you a sense of relief, as if their wishes were being fulfilled, whereas he was nothing of the sort. he was pretty, and with beauty, there was the inevitable pain attached to it.

he needed you, even if it was just for a moment. he needed to see you, to feel the warmth of your presence, to remind himself of what he had once had and lost. his mind raced with thoughts of how he could make it happen, what he could do to have you back, even if it was just for a second. he would give anything to look at you, to see the way you smiled, to remember what it felt like to be loved by you. as he approached the bar, his heart pounded in his chest, a mix of anticipation and dread. he hadn’t planned on seeing you here, hadn’t even thought it was possible. but as he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room, and there you were, sitting at the bar, a vision of everything he had lost.

the world seemed to stop for a moment as he took you in. you were beautiful, more beautiful than he remembered, but it wasn’t just your appearance that drew him in. it was the way you carried yourself, the way you seemed to light up the room even when you were sitting there alone. he could see the sadness in your eyes, the way you sipped your drink like it was a lifeline, and his heart ached for you, for the pain he knew he had caused. he wanted to go to you, to say something, anything, but his feet were rooted to the ground. he couldn’t move, couldn’t bring himself to take that step. what would he say? what could he say that would make any of this better? he had lost his chance, and now all he could do was stand there, watching you, begging the universe for just one more moment.

but the universe was silent, offering him no answers, no solace. all he could do was watch as you sat there, beautiful and sad, and wonder how he had ever let you go. the weight of his regret was crushing, and he knew that no amount of wishing could change what had happened. he had lost you, and now all he could do was live with the pain of that loss. so he stood there, frozen in place, watching you from across the room, the distance between you feeling insurmountable. he didn’t approach you, didn’t say a word. he just watched, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he would never have you the way he once did, that the only thing he could do now was remember, and regret, and wish for things that could never be.

the neon lights of the city danced in the puddles of rainwater, casting an eerie glow across the deserted streets. it was a night much like any other, except for the quiet ache in your chest that had been lingering for months. the rain had picked up just as you stepped out of the bar, the droplets mingling with the tears that had been threatening to spill since the moment you saw jungkook standing by the entrance. the silence between you had been deafening, a cruel contrast to the laughter and shared secrets that once filled the air. now, you found yourself walking in the same direction as him, the cold rain a pitiful excuse for the chills that ran down your spine.

his eyes met yours, a silent question hanging in the air. he offered a tentative smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and you felt your heart stumble. without a word, you turned and ducked into the nearest alley, the rain a veil hiding your desperate hope that he’d follow. the seconds stretched out like a tightrope between you, each drop of water echoing in the silence until you heard his footsteps approaching.

he stepped into the alley, the rain soaking his dark hair and tracing lines down his cheeks. he looked at you, his gaze intense and searching, as if trying to read the story etched on your face. you took a deep breath, the scent of wet concrete and rain-soaked asphalt filling your lungs, and closed the distance between you. the rain grew heavier, but the only sound you heard was the thundering of your heart, the universe seemingly holding its breath for what was to come.

jungkook reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed the wet strands of hair from your face. his touch sent a jolt through your body, a reminder of the electricity that had once danced between you. his thumb traced the outline of your jaw, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. you leaned into his touch, your own hand finding its way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. it was a silent conversation, a dance of longing and regret that needed no words.

with a soft sigh, you raised your face to his, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. it was a kiss that held the weight of a thousand unsaid i love yous, a silent apology for the time lost and the chances squandered. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the rain continued to pound against the two of you, a cocoon of pain and passion. the alley was a sanctuary for your fleeting reunion, a place where the outside world couldn't intrude.

you both knew it wouldn’t last, that the universe had only granted you this one night to set things right. but for now, you were lost in the warmth of his embrace, the taste of him on your lips, and the feel of his skin against yours. you allowed yourself to believe in the lie that this could change everything, that you could have a second chance. his hands roamed your body, relearning every curve and contour as if trying to burn the memory into his soul. the rain soaked through your clothes, melding you together in a bittersweet symphony of desire and despair.

the night unfolded in a haze of passion, every touch a whispered promise of what could have been. the air grew thick with the scent of rain and the heat of your bodies as you stumbled into his apartment, a silent agreement hanging in the air. the room was dimly lit, the rain now a gentle lullaby against the windows, the only sound the ragged breaths and soft moans that filled the space. you let him lead you to his bed, the softness of the sheets a contrast to the tumultuous storm raging within you.

as you lay together, the storm outside mirroring the one in your hearts, you felt the sting of tears on your cheeks. jungkook kissed them away, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. you didn't speak, didn't dare to break the spell with words that could shatter the illusion. instead, you communicated with touches and sighs, your bodies speaking a language that transcended the limitations of speech. the moments were fleeting, the time slipping away like the rainwater down the drain. you both knew it was just a temporary reprieve from the cold reality that awaited you come morning. yet, as you tangled together, lost in the warmth of his arms, you couldn’t help but cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, the universe had chosen to tip the scales in your favor tonight.

but even as the thought whispered through your mind, the weight of the truth settled in your chest like a stone. the universe had never played favorites, and it wasn’t about to start now. this was just a brief intermission in the grand play of life, a poignant reminder of the love that once was and could never be again. as dawn approached, you lay there, your hearts racing, your bodies slick with sweat and the scent of each other. the rain had stopped, leaving only the quiet hum of the city waking up around you. jungkook's grip on you tightened, as if he could hold onto the moment forever. but the light grew brighter, and the shadows of doubt began to creep in, painting the walls with the harsh strokes of reality.

you knew it was over, that the universe had collected its debt and the bill was now due. you pulled away from him, the cold air hitting your skin like a slap. you dressed in silence, the weight of your clothes feeling heavier than the armor of a thousand warriors. jungkook watched you, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored your own, his expression a silent plea for you to stay. but you couldn’t. the sun was rising, and with it, the inevitable end to your stolen night. you whispered a goodbye, the finality of the word cutting through the air like a knife. he nodded, understanding in his eyes as you stepped out.

the days stretched out like an endless, monochromatic expanse, each one bleeding into the next with a sense of profound emptiness. the world outside your window seemed to spin on, indifferent to your internal collapse. you found yourself in a state of profound disconnection, where everything once vibrant had faded to gray.

you no longer cried, not because you had run out of tears, but because the depth of your sorrow had become a silent, consuming void. your eyes, once accustomed to weeping, now felt parched and vacant. the tears had dried up, leaving behind a dryness that mirrored the desolation within you. the very act of crying had become a distant memory, a faint echo of the anguish that had once poured forth uncontrollably.

the ache of his absence was now a dull, relentless throb in your chest. you moved through your days with a leaden sense of inertia, your limbs heavy and unresponsive. the bed you once shared with him felt like a vast, hollow expanse. you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the sheets cold and uninviting. the warmth of his presence had been replaced by an oppressive chill that seemed to seep into your bones.

you had lost your motivation, the spark that once drove you to engage with the world had flickered and died. the things that used to bring you joy now felt like meaningless rituals. you had no desire to engage with anything—no will to cook, to read, to socialize. the activities that once held meaning now seemed like empty gestures, as though they belonged to a past self you could barely recognize.

every corner of your home seemed to mock you with reminders of his absence. the roses he had given you still stood in their vases, their petals vibrant yet wilting against the muted backdrop of your sorrow. they had become a symbol of your hollow grief, their beauty now tainted by the pain they represented. they, too, had started to wilt. you found yourself unable to touch them, unable to bring yourself to care for them. they were a reminder of what had been lost, and their presence only served to deepen the emptiness.

the moments you had once cherished now felt like fleeting illusions. the memories of his touch, his laughter, his smile—they all seemed like echoes from a distant, unreachable past. they hovered around you, tantalizingly close, yet forever out of reach. the very essence of him had become a temporary fixture in your life, a fleeting warmth that had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. your days blended into a monotonous routine, each one passing in a blur of gray and silence. you moved through your life with an automaton’s grace, performing tasks without passion or enthusiasm. the mirror reflected a face that seemed unfamiliar—hollowed eyes, a wan smile that never quite reached your eyes. the person you saw there was a shadow of who you once were, a shell that had been hollowed out by the weight of your grief.

even as you went through the motions of daily life, your mind was a swirling vortex of despair and disillusionment. you felt disconnected from everything, as though you were observing your own existence from a distance. your body was present, but your spirit seemed to have retreated into a dark, inaccessible corner. the world was a blur of indistinct shapes and sounds, and you struggled to find meaning in anything. in the quiet of your solitude, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of thoughts that offered no solace. the emptiness was all-consuming, a deep well that seemed to have no bottom. the once vibrant, hopeful person you had been now felt like a distant memory, a ghost of a self that had been irrevocably altered by the loss of him.

jungkook lay in the darkness of his room, the sheets crumpled around him, a silent testament to the upheaval of his emotions. the room was heavy with the scent of you, a lingering fragrance that had become both a balm and a torment. the aroma of you clung to the fabric, a ghostly reminder of a presence now painfully out of reach. he buried his face in the pillow, the soft, familiar scent washing over him like a bittersweet wave, mingling with the dampness of his tears.

his heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, each beat a sharp pang of longing and regret. he clung to the pillow, clutching it as if it were a lifeline, trying desperately to hold onto the remnants of you. the tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless, soaking the fabric beneath him. he sobbed into the pillow, his cries muffled but raw, each sound an expression of his overwhelming grief. he could no longer see clearly through his tears, but the darkness of the room seemed to envelop him, pressing down on him with a suffocating weight. your absence was a gaping void that filled the space around him, amplifying his sense of loneliness. the bed, once a place of comfort and shared warmth, now felt like a desolate expanse where he lay alone, adrift in his sorrow.

desperation clawed at him, driving him to a place where he sought to express his pain in ways that went beyond mere tears. his hands, once gentle and loving, now sought a different outlet for his anguish. with a shuddering breath, he pushed himself up from the bed and stumbled to the wall, the dim light casting long shadows that danced with his movements. his knuckles, still raw from previous attempts to subdue his rage, were now red and bruised, but the pain seemed to offer a distorted sense of relief.

he pounded his fists against the wall, the sound of his blows echoing through the room. each hit was not driven by anger but by a profound sadness that had consumed him entirely. he felt the sting of the impact, the dull ache of his knuckles meeting the unforgiving surface. his punches were more of a plea than a fight—a plea to feel something other than the empty ache in his chest, a desperate attempt to make the void of your absence tangible.

the walls bore the brunt of his sorrow, and the small marks left by his fists seemed to mock his attempts to find solace. the physical pain was a poor substitute for the emotional torment, but it was the only thing he could grasp at in his moments of despair. the act of hurting himself became a ritual of sorts, a way to channel the overwhelming sadness that threatened to drown him.

he collapsed back onto the bed, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and his hands, now throbbing with the aftereffects of his self-inflicted blows, rested limply by his sides. the room was silent save for the soft rustle of the sheets and his uneven breathing. he stared up at the ceiling, the darkness above him a mirror of the darkness within. his mind was a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and memories. He replayed moments with you over and over, each memory a painful reminder of what had been lost. the scent of you on the sheets, once a comfort, now felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of how close yet how unreachable you were. he wished he could reach out to you, to call you and hear your voice, but the reality of your absence was a constant, unyielding presence in his life.

jungkook’s sorrow had transformed into a deep, gnawing depression that consumed every corner of his existence. he felt hollow, his body moving through the motions of daily life with a mechanical detachment. the days blended into a blur, each one marked by a sense of loss and longing. his emotions were a tumultuous sea, and he struggled to find solid ground amidst the crashing waves. every time he lay down, every time he stared at the empty space beside him, the grief would engulf him anew. the scent of you, the lingering touch of your presence, was both a comfort and a torment. he was caught in a cycle of remembering and mourning, unable to escape the pain that had become a constant companion. the bed, the walls, the silence—everything around him seemed to echo the emptiness of your absence, amplifying his despair.

you had spent days entangled in the suffocating grip of despair, every day a struggle to drag yourself through the motions of life. your home, once filled with the remnants of a love that now felt like a distant dream, had become a place where echoes of your pain reverberated endlessly. but as time wore on, there came a moment—a quiet, insistent moment—when the weight of your sorrow began to lift, if only slightly.

the realization that you had been clinging to a fractured ideal of the past started to seep into your consciousness. you began to accept that what you wished for, what you had yearned for so desperately, was not something that could be willed back into existence. the journey to acceptance was not instantaneous; it was a slow, deliberate process, marked by small victories and subtle shifts in your mindset.

you found solace in the mundane details of daily life. you began to notice the subtle beauty in everyday moments—the way the sunlight filtered through your window, the calming rhythm of your breath as you practiced mindfulness, the comforting hum of routine, and the way the godforsaken roses had finally withered away. slowly, you started to feel a sense of security in these ordinary rituals. they were reminders that life, while changed, continued to offer moments of tranquility and purpose.

as you ventured out into the world, your heart began to open up to new experiences. a first date—a simple, unremarkable event—brought with it a feeling of genuine happiness that you hadn't experienced in a long time. it was a tentative, fragile joy, but it was there nonetheless. you allowed yourself to be present, to savor the laughter and the connection, to let go of the lingering shadows of the past. the date was a pleasant surprise, an unexpected gift of normalcy and hope. as you walked hand-in-hand with your companion, you felt a warmth in your chest that had been absent for too long. the world seemed to expand around you, filled with possibilities rather than regrets. you were starting to live again, to feel alive.

at the end of the evening, as you were handed a bouquet of flowers, your heart fluttered with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. the flowers were beautiful, vibrant red roses, their petals soft and inviting. you accepted them with a genuine smile, letting their delicate fragrance mingle with the newfound joy you were experiencing. the sight of the roses, however, didn’t evoke the visceral reaction they once did. instead, they were simply another part of your reality, no longer a symbol of the pain that once defined your days.

what you didn't realize was that jungkook had been waiting nearby, a bouquet of dandelions clutched in his hands. he had hoped to see you, to offer you something that held meaning for both of you. but as he watched from the shadows, his heart sank when he saw you take the roses with such ease, a gesture that seemed to signify a quiet acceptance of a reality that he himself struggled to embrace.

the sight of you with the roses, when he knew how much you had loved dandelions, was a harsh reminder of the chasm that had grown between you. it was a moment that crystallized the harsh truth he had been avoiding—your life had moved on, had found new sources of happiness and meaning, while he remained anchored in the past. the acceptance he had hoped to find in his own heart seemed elusive, overshadowed by the painful reality of watching you embrace a new chapter without him. jungkook stood there, paralyzed by the sight before him. the dandelions in his hand felt like a cruel joke now, a poignant symbol of what could have been. they were meant to be a token of his love, a way to reconnect with the joy you had once shared. but seeing you with the roses, accepting them so effortlessly, made the dandelions seem insignificant, a mere relic of a bygone era.

in that moment, he faced the unyielding truth of his situation: the reality he had been trying to avoid was indeed cruel and unforgiving. his heart ached with a profound sense of loss, but beneath the pain was a new understanding. acceptance was a bitter pill to swallow, but as he watched you with the roses, he began to grasp its necessity. as you walked away with your bouquet, your happiness palpable, jungkook was left alone with his dandelions and the reality that you had found a way to move forward. the once vivid pain of your absence was now tempered by a melancholic acceptance. it was a realization that, no matter how much he wished things could be different, the world continued to turn, with or without him in your life.

the sky was a somber gray, an oppressive expanse that stretched endlessly above you, mirroring the weight that settled heavily on your heart. you stood there, clutching the bouquet of roses in your hands, their vibrant red a definite contrast to the bleak backdrop of the overcast day. the flowers, once symbols of love now transformed into markers of loss, felt heavy and poignant.

you had come to understand something profound in this moment—something that had eluded you for so long. you understood why jungkook had been drawn to these roses, why they had held such a special place in his heart. the roses were undeniably beautiful, their petals velvety and rich, a testament to nature’s ability to create splendor even in the face of hardship. but you also grasped the deeper truth: beauty, as with everything, came at a price. the thorns of the rose were not just physical barriers; they were metaphors for the pain that often accompanied true beauty and love.

as you held the bouquet, you let yourself marvel at the roses’ splendor. each petal was like a delicate brushstroke of crimson on a canvas of green, a fleeting masterpiece of nature. you ran your fingers gently over the petals, feeling their softness, their warmth, and for a moment, you were lost in their beauty. the roses were not just flowers; they were a testament to the complexity of emotions and experiences.

a tear, born from the depths of your sorrow, slipped silently down your cheek. it landed softly on one of the petals, its glistening drop mingling with the rose's vibrant hue. you watched in a kind of mesmerized sadness as the tear traced a slow, shimmering path over the surface of the petal. it was a testament to the pain you felt, yet the flower remained unwavering in its beauty. the tear did not diminish the rose's allure; it merely added to its story, making it all the more poignant.

with careful reverence, you approached jungkook’s grave, the final resting place of the person whose absence had left a void in your life. the roses, now intertwined with your sorrow, seemed to carry a weight that transcended their mere physical presence. you set them gently by his grave, placing them with a tenderness that spoke of your deep, unspoken grief.

the wind stirred, causing the petals to flutter ever so slightly, as if acknowledging the gesture. as you stepped back, you observed the bouquet resting there, a symbol of your enduring affection, and also of your newfound understanding of the delicate balance between beauty and suffering. the roses, despite the tear that marked them, remained beautiful—unblemished in their elegance, a reflection of the love and the pain they represented.

the realization hit you with a cruel clarity: even as the roses symbolized something deeply personal and painful, they also embodied an immutable truth about beauty. it was a truth that jungkook had understood far better than you could have ever realized before. his love for the roses had been an acknowledgment of their dual nature—their ability to captivate and hurt simultaneously.

you stood there, feeling a quiet, aching acceptance. the sky above remained gray, a canvas as muted as the feelings swirling within you. the roses danced in the eind, their thorns seemingly harmless now, their crimson petals vibrant as the wind blew against them. they were beautiful, just as he was. if only they hadn’t withered as quickly as they did. maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have either.

✧.*

a/n: modu uril chyeodabwa

never give up, i love every single one of u !

USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS

three words (세 마디) – kim taehyung (김 태형)

✧.* WC: 17.1K

✧.* SYN: white lines and white lies, loose ends and fake friends. money used to be the answer to all of your problems, but some problems just can’t be solved with money. some problems just can’t be solved at all.

✧.* 18+

the problems in your world were unlike those that others faced, but that wasn't entirely your fault. your life had always been a carefully curated mess, the kind that looked almost intentional. too many bottles of wine with names you could never quite pronounce, too many hits of something green that seemed to belong more in your hand than in anyone else’s, where it would have looked trashy, almost vulgar. white lines on glass tables and white lies whispered between teeth stained with the residue of indulgence. loose ends frayed in the chaos of your existence, each one tied to another false friend, another empty promise.

you had lived your life this way for as long as you could remember, drifting through the haze of late nights that bled into mornings, pretending that the simplicity you yearned for was just around the next corner, or at the bottom of the next glass. But somewhere along the line, the neat lines of your carefully managed chaos had tangled into something more sinister.

when had it all gotten so complicated? you couldn’t pinpoint the moment when the scales tipped, when the balance between indulgence and destruction tilted beyond repair. what was once a game of excess and appearances had become a reality that you no longer recognized, a world where the choices you made were no longer yours, where the control you once held slipped through your fingers like sand.

you found yourself lost in thought, tracing the thread of chaos back to its origins, trying to pinpoint the moment when everything had lost its rhythm. it was like trying to grasp smoke, the memories slipping through your fingers, elusive yet haunting. you had lived in the center of that storm for so long that it was hard to recall when the clouds had first gathered, but one memory stood out, crystallized in the haze of everything that followed.

it was an evening like so many others, the sky a muted shade of gray, as if even the heavens had grown weary. taehyung had been strolling alongside jungkook, his stride easy and unhurried, a joint dangling carelessly between his fingers. there was a sense of freedom in the way he moved, as if he belonged to the world in a way that you never quite could.

jungkook had been quieter than usual, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. he had scoffed, almost playfully, as taehyung brought the joint to his lips. “you’ve been smoking way too much, dude,” he had said, a hint of concern buried beneath the teasing. but taehyung had only shot him a look, one of those lazy, knowing smirks that always seemed to hide more than they revealed. without a word, he offered the joint to jungkook, his eyes gleaming with a challenge that only they could understand.

of course, he took it. it was a ritual, a shared understanding between them, one that you had never fully grasped. as he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke curl in his lungs, taehyung had watched him closely, a slight tilt to his head as if he were assessing something. “you look like you could use it,” he had remarked, the words almost too casual, laced with an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. there was a pause, a moment where the world seemed to still, before he asked, “what’s on your mind?”

jungkook had sighed, the sound heavy with something unspoken, as he took another hit. he held the smoke in a second longer, as if drawing strength from it, before exhaling slowly and handing the joint back to taehyung. he could almost see the thoughts swirling behind his eyes, the way he wrestled with himself, trying to find the right words. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost resigned. “i made a mistake.”

taehyung had scoffed, the sound light and disbelieving. “the golden boy would never,” he had said, the nickname slipping from his tongue with a hint of sarcasm, as if the very idea was preposterous. but jungkook had only shaken his head, his steps faltering slightly as they continued down the street. “it’s really bad this time,” he had admitted, the words carrying a weight that was impossible to ignore.

that was when taehyung stopped, his usual nonchalance replaced by something far more serious. the easygoing smirk faded, replaced by a frown as he studied jungkook’s face, searching for something in his expression that would explain the sudden shift. without hesitation, taehyung had thrown the rest of the joint away, grinding it under his shoe with deliberate force, as if the act could somehow erase the gravity of the moment.

“jungkook,” he had said, his voice steady but laced with an uncharacteristic urgency, “what did you do?”

he had never seen fear in jungkook’s eyes before, not like that. it was raw, unguarded, a glimpse into a part of him that he rarely showed. the memory of that look had stayed with him, long after the moment had passed, seeping into his thoughts whenever you tried to piece together the fragments of his own life. it was there, in that fleeting second, that he realized how far you had all fallen, how deep the chaos had truly run. and yet, even then, none of you had fully understood it. not until it was too late.

the memory of your nineteenth birthday was etched into your mind, a night that had been meticulously planned, every detail tailored to perfection. you had orchestrated the entire event with the enthusiasm of someone who believed they could control the world, if only for one evening. with your best friend by your side and your mother’s credit card in hand, you had ensured that this night would be one to remember.

tzuyu had been eager, her energy contagious as she helped you plan every aspect of the celebration. you had noticed that she had been a bit off lately, her usual spark dimmed by something you couldn’t quite identify, but tonight, she seemed like her old self again. it was a relief to see her that way, smiling and carefree, and you were more than happy to indulge in the illusion that everything was fine.

the club had been your choice, a pulsating heartbeat of music and lights, where the world outside ceased to exist. the two of you had danced until the rhythm became a part of you, your movements in sync with the beat, as if the night itself was a celebration of your existence. the crowd, the noise, the flashing lights—all of it was a backdrop to the bond you shared, the laughter and the whispers that passed between you like secrets. when you finally left, it was with tzuyu by your side, the two of you slipping into the back of the sleek, black limo waiting outside. the city lights blurred into streaks of color as the car pulled away, and you reached for the champagne that had been chilling in the ice bucket. with a grin, you handed it to her, letting her take the honors.

ahe had popped the bottle with a delighted yelp, the sound of it echoing in the enclosed space. your laughter mingled with hers as she poured the bubbly liquid into two glasses, the bubbles rising like a cascade of stars. yhe glasses clinked softly as you raised them, her eyes sparkling with something akin to joy. “we should leave the boys some, too,” you had said, the words casual as you took a sip, the champagne crisp and cold against your tongue.

tzuyu’s head had snapped up at that, her expression shifting, her eyes searching yours. “the boys?” she echoed, the question hanging in the air between you. there was a pause, a slight hesitation before she continued, “taehyung and jungkook?”

you had nodded, the motion so natural, so obvious to you that you didn’t understand why she even questioned it. “yeah,” you replied, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “would that be a problem?”

her laugh had been nervous, a sound that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “of course not,” she had answered quickly, almost too quickly, before turning her attention back to the champagne, refilling her glass with a focus that seemed a little too intense. the silence that followed was almost thick, hanging heavy in the air despite the supposed festivities. it was supposed to be a celebratory night, but the atmosphere had shifted, a subtle tension settling between you that hadn’t been there before.

it wasn’t long before the boys arrived, the limo door opening to reveal them stepping inside, their presence altering the dynamic instantly. taehyung slid in first, his eyes taking in the scene with a practiced ease, followed by jungkook, whose demeanor was noticeably subdued. you had immediately reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a gesture that was as much habit as affection. your lips brushed against his cheek in a light kiss, a quiet greeting escaping your lips. “hey, baby.” he had returned the kiss, a brief peck on your cheek, but there was something off about it, a distance in the way he held himself, the way he didn’t say anything. you felt it, that something was missing, the usual warmth, the unspoken connection between you. his silence spoke volumes, filling the space with an unease you couldn’t ignore.

and then your eyes had met taehyung’s, a fleeting moment of eye contact that seemed to last longer than it should have. there was something in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat, an unsettling feeling that settled deep in your stomach. it was in that moment, in the way his eyes held yours, that you felt it—the weight of something unspoken, something just beyond your grasp, lingering in the air like a shadow. the atmosphere of the night had shifted, the joy and excitement tempered by a sense of unease that you couldn’t shake. whatever it was, you knew it had changed everything.

that night, as the champagne and the clamor of the club swirled together in a haze, you had found yourself slipping beyond the edge of reason. the celebratory atmosphere, once vibrant and intoxicating, had transformed into a foggy blur. the alcohol, your unwitting companion, had blurred the lines of your comprehension, rendering everything around you distant and distorted.

taehyung had been the first to notice your inebriated state, his concern barely masked beneath a veneer of casual detachment. the moment he saw you struggling to maintain your balance, his demeanor had shifted, becoming more focused and intent. jungkook and tzuyu, sensing the urgency of the situation, had both nodded in agreement when taehyung had offered to take you home. their willingness to step aside, allowing him to handle the responsibility, was tinged with a mixture of relief and reluctance.

as he guided you out of the limo and into the cool night air, you stumbled beside him, the world around you swaying unpredictably. his hand was steady on your back, offering a semblance of support as you leaned into him, your thoughts spilling out in slurred, incoherent fragments. “they’ve been acting so weird lately,” you had said, your voice thick with the weight of your inebriation. your feet fumbled with each step, nearly tripping over nothing, causing taehyung to steady himself as he guided you forward.

“who?” he had asked, his voice a mixture of concern and curiosity as he tried to keep you upright. “jungkook and tzuyu,” you had managed to articulate, the names coming out in a jumble. you had nearly taken him down with you, but he had managed to regain his footing, his grip on you firm and reassuring.

taehyung had sighed, a hint of bemusement in his tone as he responded, “yeah, they must be on their periods.” his attempt to lighten the situation with a touch of humor did little to quell the storm brewing inside you. you had leaned into his touch, seeking comfort as you stumbled along, his breath catching in his throat at the weight of the situation.

as you reached your building, taehyung had retrieved the keys from your purse, his movements steady despite the chaos around you. he had quietly opened the door and guided you inside, the familiar surroundings offering little solace in your disoriented state. his touch was gentle yet firm, leading you toward your room. when you collapsed onto your bed with a sigh, your hair tousled and makeup smeared, taehyung had settled beside you, his presence a steady anchor in the whirlwind of your emotions. the silence between you had been heavy, filled with unspoken words and unacknowledged truths.

“i’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” he had said, his voice breaking the silence with an unexpected vulnerability. his apology hung in the air, charged with an unspoken weight that you struggled to process. you had turned to him, your gaze unfocused yet searching, and asked quietly, “what do you mean?”

he had hesitated, the tension evident in the way he struggled to find the right words. “jungkook, he cheated on you with tzuyu,” he had finally admitted, his voice carrying the gravity of the confession. “it was for his nineteenth birthday, not too long ago. they both got drunk and let it happen.”

the words hit you like a physical blow, the shock of the revelation enough to make your stomach churn. you could hardly process the enormity of what you were hearing. your face remained a blank canvas, a mask of disbelief that hid the turmoil raging within. the shock and betrayal combined with the alcohol had caused you to heave, but you fought to keep your composure, even as a stray tear slipped down your cheek. taehyung had watched you with a look of genuine concern, his own face reflecting the weight of the confession. “are you okay?” he had asked softly, his eyes searching yours for a sign of how you were holding up.

you had nodded, your face still an inscrutable mask of calm. “of course i am,” you had said, your voice carrying a hollow edge. you had wiped the stray tear from your cheek, a gesture of self-reliance born from the realization that, ultimately, no one else would tend to your pain if not you. “i’m my mother’s daughter,” you had continued, the words dripping with a resigned bitterness. “what did i expect?”

the morning after the revelation had dawned on you with an oppressive weight, the remnants of sleep eluding you entirely. you had barely managed a few restless hours in the tangled sheets of your bed, your mind too frantic to find solace. the truth that taehyung had so courageously unveiled the night before replayed relentlessly in your thoughts. despite your own turmoil, you had promised him one thing: you wouldn’t tell a single soul it was he who had delivered the devastating news. he was the only one who had broken the silence, not your childhood boyfriend, not your childhood friend—just taehyung. that sense of betrayal, sharp and unrelenting, needed an outlet, and jungkook was the target.

you dialed his number with a resolve that left no room for hesitation. the message you left was terse and urgent, an unmistakable demand for his presence. the call was made with the singular intent of making him face what he had done. the hangover that should have plagued you was eclipsed by a burning rage that consumed every corner of your being, leaving no room for the dull ache of alcohol.

when jungkook finally arrived, his demeanor was casual, an oblivious ease that contrasted sharply with your seething anger. he knocked softly on the door before stepping in, and there you were, seated in the living room with an air of normalcy that belied the storm raging inside you. your robe was tightly wrapped around you, a newspaper spread over your lap, and a mimosa in your hand. the scene seemed almost serene, save for the smirk playing on your lips, a jarring anomaly in an otherwise composed setting.

jungkook’s gaze swept over you with a hint of confusion, his eyes scanning the room as he stepped inside. “what happened? is everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern that felt out of place given the circumstances. you put the newspaper aside with deliberate calm, taking a leisurely sip of your mimosa. your tone was laced with a blandness that only partially masked the fury beneath. “why wouldn’t it be?” you responded, your voice a veil over the storm raging inside.

his confusion deepened as he took in your demeanor. “you made it sound like an emergency,” he said, his brow furrowing as he tried to reconcile your apparent calm with the urgency of your call. you rose from the couch, every movement purposeful as you approached him. “it is,” you said, your voice cutting through the air like a blade. the room seemed to contract around you, the tension thick and suffocating.

as you neared him, you gave him one last scrutinizing look, taking in the sight of his relaxed, oblivious smile. “i had a question for you,” you said, your voice steady, almost eerily calm. jungkook’s smile remained, a complacent grin that belied his confusion. “sure, babe, what is it?” he asked, the affectionate term coming out as a painful irony.

you looked at him, that smile of his igniting the flames of your anger further. and then, with a sudden, sharp movement, you struck him. the force of your hand colliding with his cheek was enough to silence him, to shock him into the reality of the situation. the impact left a stinging imprint, a physical manifestation of the emotional upheaval you were feeling.

“did you fuck her good?” you demanded, your voice low and cutting.

the words seemed to hang in the air, each syllable weighted with the pain and betrayal you felt. jungkook’s face shifted from shock to realization, his eyes widening as the gravity of your question sank in. his once relaxed demeanor shattered, his hands became frantic as he tried to piece together the situation. “please, listen to me,” he stammered, his voice breaking. “it was a mistake. it was a mistake!”

you mimicked his earlier sweet smile with an icy twist, the gesture as false as it was cruel. “i wouldn’t hear you out even if you kneeled,” you said, each word deliberate and final. “get out, before i call security.”

the command was clear, leaving no room for negotiation or apology. jungkook’s pleas continued, but they fell on deaf ears as you turned away, the finality of your words hanging in the air like a guillotine. the door clicked shut behind him, a sound that resonated with the finality of an ending. in the silence that followed, you were left alone with the remnants of your anger and betrayal. the echoes of his desperate voice faded, leaving you with nothing but the harsh reality of the situation and the unyielding truth that you would face alone.

the weight of your actions had not yet fully settled, but your resolve was unshakable. you moved with a determined grace, the anger fueling your every step. you discarded your robe with an almost clinical precision, the soft fabric slipping from your shoulders as you reached for something more fitting for your mission. the casual dress you chose clung to you with a casual elegance, but it was the leather jacket that completed your ensemble, draped over your shoulders like a mantle of defiance. you needed to make a statement, and every detail of your appearance was a deliberate choice, a symbol of your readiness to confront the chaos head-on.

the drive to tzuyu’s penthouse was swift, your mind focused solely on the confrontation that awaited. when you arrived, you were greeted by her mother, a vision of warmth and hospitality. her bright smile was so unlike the storm brewing within you. “oh, it’s so nice to see you!” she exclaimed, her cheerfulness almost disorienting. “tzuyu didn’t mention you were joining us for breakfast.”

you returned her smile with practiced ease, masking the turbulence beneath. “it’s wonderful to see you, too,” you said, the words coming out with a politeness that barely concealed your intentions. “i actually didn’t come for breakfast, though,” you continued, your tone slipping into a more measured calm. “i don’t have much of an appetite.”

with that, you bypassed her, moving swiftly toward the door that led to tzuyu’s room. you didn’t wait for an invitation or further pleasantries; you entered with purpose, your stride unwavering. tzuyu, sprawled on her bed in a state of groggy confusion, looked up with an expression of surprise that bordered on innocent. “what’s with the surprise visit?” she asked, her eyes wide with an almost childlike curiosity. “did you sober up?”

you smiled, a tight, controlled expression that belied the seething anger just beneath. “i’ve definitely sobered up,” you said, letting the words hang in the air with an edge of finality. “how about you?” she sighed, rubbing her eyes as if to clear the fog of the morning. “i’m still feeling a bit groggy,” she admitted, her voice trailing off into a yawn. her obliviousness was almost unbearable, a contrast to the storm you were about to unleash.

the moment was charged with a palpable tension. you could feel your hand twitching, a physical manifestation of the anger you could no longer contain. before you could second-guess yourself, you allowed your hand to collide with her cheek with a sharp, decisive smack. the sound of the impact reverberated in the room, leaving a stinging silence in its wake. tzuyu’s eyes widened in shock, her face frozen in an expression of disbelief.

“maybe that’ll wake you up,” you said, the words cold and devoid of sympathy. her mouth opened as if to respond, but the ringing of her phone cut her off. both of you turned toward the sound, and the sight of jungkook’s name flashing on the screen seemed to crystallize the realization of what had transpired.

a derisive scoff escaped your lips as you watched her face drain of color, the realization dawning on her with a visceral impact. “i always knew you were a slut,” you said, each word deliberate and cutting. “never took you for a liar, too.”

her composure shattered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to find words that would never come. the sight of her distress was almost satisfying, but you were beyond caring. you had come to deliver a message, and now that it was sent, you turned on your heel with a resolute finality. you left the room without a backward glance, the confrontation leaving behind a cold, echoing silence. your steps were purposeful as you made your way out, each footfall a reminder that you had not come for breakfast or for pleasantries. the meal you had served was one that was best served cold.

the limo door closed behind you with a soft thud, sealing you in the quiet, dimly lit interior. the rush of adrenaline from the encounter with tzuyu still lingered, but as you settled into the plush leather seat, a different kind of tension began to gnaw at you. your eyes drifted to your hand resting in your lap, the subtle tremor in your fingers drawing your attention. no matter how hard you squeezed your hand into a fist, the twitching refused to cease, a stubborn reminder of the morning’s confrontation.

“will we be going back home, miss?” the driver’s voice broke through your thoughts, his tone polite but indifferent, as though he hadn’t just ferried you from one battlefield to another. you forced yourself to regroup, pushing aside the flicker of doubt that threatened to creep in. “no,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “there’s one more stop.”

the drive to taehyung’s hotel was brief, the city’s landscape a blur as you wrestled with the unrelenting twitch in your hand. the calm you had worked so hard to maintain was fraying at the edges, and by the time you arrived at the penthouse, the tremor had become a constant, unsettling presence. the door was unlocked when you arrived, a testament to the casual chaos that always seemed to surround taehyung. the minute it swung open, you were greeted by the overpowering musk of weed and cologne, the two scents mingling in a way that was almost nauseating. you stepped inside, barely managing to stifle the scoff that threatened to escape as you took in the familiar scene before you.

two girls emerged from the lit interior, their hair a mess of tangled curls, and their makeup smeared from what must have been a long night. they wore nothing but oversized shirts that you could only assume belonged to taehyung, the hemline barely grazing their thighs. the sneers they shot you were unmistakable, a territorial display that you found almost laughable.

and then, taehyung appeared. his hair was wet, droplets of water clinging to the strands as he emerged from what must have been a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. you rolled your eyes, too accustomed to his antics to be fazed by the sight. he caught your eye, a smirk playing on his lips as he used a towel to rub his hair dry. “please excuse their lack of manners,” he drawled, the arrogance in his voice palpable. “gangnam girls, what can i say?”

you rolled your eyes again, the gesture becoming almost second nature in his presence. “you’re disgusting,” you retorted, your voice laced with disdain. he laughed, the sound rich and careless, as though your insult had only amused him. “why did you stop by?” he asked, tilting his head in that infuriatingly casual way of his. “did you come by to partake in round two?”

the suggestion was enough to make you scrunch your face up in disgust. “not even in your wildest dreams.” his smirk only widened, and he turned to pour himself a drink, the clink of glass against glass echoing through the penthouse. your eyes followed the movement, landing on the amber liquid as it swirled in the glass. “a little early for a drink, isn’t it?” you asked, unable to keep the note of disapproval from creeping into your voice.

he downed the glass in one go, the smirk never leaving his lips as he shook his head. “never too early for some fun,” he replied, his voice casual. he paused, setting the glass down with a deliberate clink before adding, “i heard you had some fun of your own this morning.” his words took you by surprise, your carefully constructed plan to break the news to him first crumbling in an instant. “how do you know about that?” you demanded, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

taehyung merely shrugged, the movement languid as he refilled his glass. “i could only assume,” he said, his tone nonchalant, “given the missed calls from the ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.” you stared at him, the surprise flickering across your face. “did you answer any of them?”

he chuckled, the sound low and amused. “i was a bit busy, as you saw.” another eye roll. “you’re awful,” you muttered, turning on your heel, ready to leave the chaos of his penthouse behind. but just as your hand reached for the door, his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“i’m opening my club tonight,” he said, the words hanging in the air between you. “aren’t you gonna come and show your support?” you turned back to face him, a scoff escaping your lips. “you’re really investing in a burlesque club?”

he shot you a look, one that was almost serious if it weren’t for the glint of mischief in his eyes. “i thought you knew art better than anyone else.” a sigh slipped past your lips, a mix of exasperation and reluctant acceptance. “fine,” you said, the word heavy with resignation. “i’ll be there.”

as you turned to leave, something caught your eye—a subtle change in taehyung’s expression. the smirk that usually adorned his lips had softened, replaced by something you hadn’t expected. a smile. not a smirk, not a taunt, but a genuine, warm smile. it was fleeting, barely there, but it left a lingering warmth in the room even after you had gone.

you returned home with a heavy weight on your shoulders, the events of the day replaying in your mind like a broken record. the penthouse, the limo, the tremor in your hand—all of it seemed to swirl together in a murky haze of emotions you could barely contain. the opulent surroundings of your home provided little comfort, the luxurious furnishings and sprawling space feeling more like a cage than a sanctuary.

you tried to distract yourself, lounging on the chaise in the living room, your fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns on the silk cushions. the house was quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that allowed your thoughts to echo louder than they should. but you refused to let your mind wander too far, knowing that if you did, the reality of everything would come crashing down.

and then, the quiet was interrupted by the soft click of heels against marble, a sound you recognized all too well. your mother entered the room, her expression unreadable as she approached you. she had a newspaper clutched in her hands, the edges crinkled from the way she held it, as if she had been gripping it tightly for some time. you looked up, meeting her gaze with a flicker of curiosity. “is everything okay?” you asked, your voice steady, though the knot in your stomach told you otherwise.

“i don’t know,” she replied, her tone careful, measured. she paused, then spread the newspaper open in front of you, laying it on the coffee table with a deliberate slowness that only added to the tension. “you tell me.”

your eyes fell on the display, the bold headline, the accompanying photo. it took a moment for the image to register, for the reality of what you were seeing to sink in. but when it did, it hit you like a freight train. the photograph was unmistakable—jungkook and tzuyu, walking side by side, their hands intertwined as if they belonged together. the smile on his face, the way she leaned into him—it was a picture-perfect moment, captured by a photographer who had been in the right place at the worst possible time.

but it was the headline that truly did you in, the words glaring back at you with a finality that made your stomach churn. an engagement confirmed, jeon jungkook and chou tzuyu set to wed. it was a fatal blow, one that you hadn’t seen coming, one that you hadn’t even known was on the horizon. the engagement—their engagement—was something you hadn’t even heard about until now, and the shock of it made the room tilt around you.

you felt your whole world come crashing down in an instant, the ground shifting beneath your feet. the bile rose in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might actually throw up. but you swallowed it down, refusing to let the nausea take over, even as your heart sank deeper into the pit of despair. your mother noticed your distress, her expression softening as she took in your reaction. she was the only one who could see through the mask you wore, the only one who knew just how deep this wound cut. “so it really is true, is it?” she asked, her voice quiet, almost tentative.

you could only muster up the energy to nod, the motion slow, as if the act of agreeing took more out of you than you had to give. she crumpled the newspaper in her hands, the sound of the paper crunching under her grip filling the room before she tossed it to the ground. the gesture was full of a frustration she didn’t voice, a rage she didn’t let surface.

she approached you, her movements cautious, as if afraid you might break if she got too close. lneeling beside you, she searched your face for tears, but found none. you hadn’t cried, not a single tear, because the pain was too deep, too raw to manifest in something as simple as crying. but she didn’t need to see your tears to know you were hurting. she had always known, perhaps even before you did.

“i’m so proud of you,” she began, her voice soft, filled with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. she reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a gentleness that only made it harder to breathe. “i’m so proud of you for handling it like this.”

you met her gaze for a moment, your eyes locking with hers. but the sharpness in your tone betrayed the anger simmering beneath the surface. “why? because i didn’t handle it the way you did?”

the hurt that flashed across her face was immediate, a brief flicker of pain that she couldn’t hide. but you didn’t care. no matter how bad she felt, no matter how much she hurt, she had to deal with the consequences of her own actions. you weren’t responsible for her pain, not now, not ever. “i would never give second chances,” you continued, your voice cold, detached. “let alone abandon my daughter to give a million more of them.”

she had no words, nothing to say that could make up for the past. because she knew you were right. she knew that no matter how much she wanted to mend the rift between you, no matter how desperately she tried, the mistakes she had made would always be there, a shadow that hung over your relationship like a storm cloud. so when you stood up, she didn’t stop you. she didn’t reach out, didn’t call after you, because she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. the silence between you was heavy, filled with all the things left unsaid, the things that would never be said because the damage had been done long ago.

as you left the room, all you could tell yourself was that she had her chance. when it should have been you, it was your father. when it should have been you, it was the man who had cheated on her, the man she had chosen over you. and now, the choices she had made so long ago were coming back to haunt her, just as they were coming back to haunt you. but you wouldn’t let them define you. you wouldn’t let her mistakes dictate your life. because you were stronger than that. and no matter how much it hurt, no matter how deep the wound, you would heal. even if it took everything you had.

you spent the evening preparing for taehyung’s club opening with meticulous care. your makeup was flawless, each stroke and blend designed to enhance your natural features while exuding confidence. you opted for a dress that struck the perfect balance between understated elegance and bold sophistication—a midnight blue gown that hugged your figure in all the right places, with a slit that hinted at just enough leg. your choice of jewelry was deliberate: a pair of sapphire earrings and a delicate silver bracelet that added a touch of sparkle without overwhelming your look. every detail was intended to make a statement of support, a way of showing that despite everything, you stood with taehyung.

as you adjusted the final strands of your hair and examined your reflection, you felt a pang of resolve mixed with unease. taehyung had been a steadfast ally, someone who had stepped up when others had not. you might not have known him as long or as intimately as you did jungkook or tzuyu, but his loyalty and support had earned your respect. you were determined to return the favor, even if it was under these difficult circumstances.

your chauffer arrived promptly, a sympathetic look in his eyes that betrayed his knowledge of the day's earlier events. you offered him a polite smile, appreciating the gesture even as you sensed the pity behind it. it seemed everyone had seen the news, and while some might have been hoping to witness your downfall, you refused to let their expectations dictate your actions. you had no need for their pity; you were here for taehyung, and that was all that mattered.

upon arriving at the club, the driver gave you a fleeting compliment on your appearance, his words tinged with transparent affection. you acknowledged it with a practiced smile and a courteous thank you before turning to face the club’s entrance. the twitching in your hand persisted, an incessant reminder of the chaos that had unfolded earlier. you gripped your fingers tightly, trying to steady the unsettling tremor, but it only seemed to intensify as you approached the bouncer and announced your name.

inside, the club dazzled with its blue lighting, casting a cool, ethereal glow over the crowd. the music was upbeat, familiar, a soundtrack that seemed both comforting and alien amidst the night’s emotional turmoil. the air was rich with the mingling scents of high-end alcohol and the faint trace of a sophisticated, floral aroma. despite the beauty of the setting, your nerves remained on edge. the club was undoubtedly a reflection of taehyung’s tastes, a testament to his style and ambition, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that clung to you.

just as you began to lose yourself in the ambiance, a new sound caught your attention. the gruffness of a man’s voice, unmistakably agitated, drew you toward a nearby hallway. as you approached cautiously, you caught sight of taehyung and his father engaged in a heated conversation near the entrance to the bathrooms. taehyung’s expression was a mixture of sorrow and frustration, while his father’s face was etched with anger and disappointment.

you pressed yourself against the wall, straining to hear their conversation while remaining unobtrusive. the words that drifted toward you were sharp and cutting. “this is why you’ll never be good enough. is this what you plan on doing for the rest of your life? investing in women and alcohol?” the harshness in his father’s voice was evident, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

taehyung’s response was a desperate plea. “it isn’t like that. don’t you see how many people are here? they came to support me. it’s not about the money or the women.”

his father’s reaction was dismissive, a scoff escaping his lips. “your mother would be disappointed.”

the statement hung heavy in the air, a final, damning indictment that seemed to crush taehyung’s spirit. you could see the hurt in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped slightly under the weight of his father’s words. goosebumps broke out on your skin as you watched the scene unfold, the pain and conflict evident in taehyung’s face. the confrontation seemed to end abruptly as his father turned away, leaving him standing alone with his hurt and frustration.

you remained frozen in place, your gaze fixated on the scene that had just unfolded. the discord between taehyung and his father had left you feeling unsettled, and you were still processing the weight of their conversation. when he finally turned around and met your eyes, his expression softened slightly, though the hurt remained etched into his features. he approached you with a wry smile, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and reproach. “eavesdropping isn’t very eloquent of you, now is it?”

you felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, and you shook your head, flustered. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to intrude.” his eyes searched yours, gauging the truth of your apology. “how much did you hear?” he asked.

you hesitated for a moment before responding. “not much,” you lied, though you knew he could see right through you. despite this, he chose not to press further, an unspoken understanding passing between you. determined to ease his pain, even just a little, you offered a genuine compliment. “the club is amazing. you did a great job, taehyung. i’m really proud of you, and you should be too.”

he scoffed lightly, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “i thought you of all people would know how i feel about pity.” you walked with him, taking in the luxurious surroundings of the club as you spoke. “i pity no one,” you said, your gaze sweeping over the elegant décor. “i just have a good eye.”

he chuckled softly and gestured toward a nearby velvet sofa. “let’s see just how good your eye is.”

you took a seat beside him, the plush cushions enveloping you in comfort. the club’s ambiance was sophisticated and chic, a far cry from the rowdy, overtly provocative establishments you had anticipated. the women around you were dressed in stylish, modest attire, their elegance a testament to taehyung’s taste and vision. as you sipped from your glass, you felt the familiar twitch in your hand returning, an involuntary reaction to the stress and turmoil of the day. you tried to ignore it, but taehyung’s perceptive gaze noticed your discomfort.

“what’s with your hand?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. you shook your head, attempting to dismiss it. “it’s been doing that all day.”

before you could raise your glass for another sip, taehyung reached over and gently took your hand in his. his touch was unexpectedly warm, and you felt a jolt of surprise as he placed his hand over yours, effectively stilling the trembling. “what are you doing?” you asked, taken aback by his unexpected gesture.

he ignored your question, instead focusing on the sensation of your hand beneath his. With a gentle squeeze, he seemed to transfer some of his warmth to you. “it’s freezing,” he remarked. “no wonder you’re shaking.”

the simple act of his hand over yours had an immediate effect; your hand ceased its tremor, the warmth and reassurance from his touch proving to be surprisingly calming. you looked at him, astonished by the unexpected relief. he let go of your hand, and you noticed with a mix of wonder and gratitude that the twitching had completely stopped. his thoughtful gesture had provided more comfort than you had anticipated, and you felt a deep sense of appreciation for his quiet support.

as you and taehyung settled into the plush velvet sofa, the atmosphere of the club enveloped you. the stage, bathed in a rich, ambient light, was now the focal point of the room. the performers, a group of women dressed in matching, sleek outfits, took their positions. their attire was a harmonious blend of black and gold, each piece meticulously chosen to accentuate their grace and elegance. the room fell silent in anticipation, and the low, sultry beats of the music began to pulse through the air.

the dancers moved as one, their synchronized steps creating a mesmerizing rhythm that captivated the audience. the choreography was a seamless blend of fluid motions and sharp accents, each gesture exuding confidence and allure. their bodies swayed and undulated with practiced precision, creating a visual symphony of movement that held the crowd in rapt attention.

the dance routine was both graceful and provocative, designed to showcase their athleticism and artistry. their movements were precise yet fluid, their expressions a mix of allure and control. as they twirled and moved, the lighting cast dramatic shadows that emphasized every curve and line, adding to the seductive ambiance of the performance.

you glanced at taehyung, noting the way his eyes followed the dancers with admiration. his smirk was barely contained as he observed their performance, but when he noticed your gaze, he tilted his head slightly, acknowledging your silent praise. “good dancers, aren’t they?” he asked, his voice low and filled with an undertone of challenge. you nodded, still watching the stage. “you’ve outdone yourself this time,” you said, genuinely impressed by the display.

his smirk widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “but i think i’d rather see you up there,” he said, his tone light but carrying an edge of challenge. you turned back to him with a roll of your eyes. “you’re despicable,” you replied, your voice tinged with both amusement and defiance.

he chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “i know you’d never, don’t worry,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. the challenge in his words sparked something within you. your eyebrows raised in surprise, and you met his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and determination. “you really think i wouldn’t?” you asked, your tone daring.

taehyung leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “enlighten me.”

with a resolute nod, you felt the warmth of the alcohol dulling your nerves, giving you the courage to accept the challenge. you stood up, feeling the eyes of the room upon you as you made your way to the stage. the sudden shift in energy was intense, and you could sense the anticipation building. the stage was bathed in a soft spotlight as you stepped into the center, the audience’s eyes fixed on you. the music, a slow, seductive melody with a steady beat, filled the space around you. you took a deep breath and began to move, each step deliberate and measured, yet brimming with sensuality.

your dance was a blend of sultry elegance and bold confidence. you began with a slow, sinuous sway of your hips, your movements flowing seamlessly with the rhythm of the music. your hands glided through the air, tracing invisible patterns as you twirled and spun with a grace that drew the audience’s gaze. the fabric of your dress clung to your curves, accentuating every motion and adding to the overall allure of your performance. as you continued, you incorporated a series of fluid, seductive movements, your body articulating each beat with precision. your gaze remained locked on taehyung, whose eyes were fixed intently on you. his expression was a mix of surprise and admiration, his smirk replaced by a look of genuine interest.

you made use of the entire stage, your movements becoming increasingly bold and expressive. the lighting shifted to highlight your figure, casting dramatic shadows that played across the floor. the audience’s reaction was one of awe, their murmurs and gasps a testament to the impact of your performance. taehyung’s gaze never wavered as he watched you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and intrigue. the intensity of his stare only fueled your confidence, and you poured every ounce of emotion into the dance.

you weren’t sure when exactly it had happened. one moment, you were basking in the afterglow of your performance, the applause still ringing in your ears, and taehyung’s unwavering gaze was locked onto yours. the next, the world around you blurred into a hazy swirl of emotions and sensations. you were vaguely aware of the transition—of leaving the club, of the distant sound of music and chatter fading away—but the details were a disjointed blur, unimportant in the grand scheme of what was unfolding.

the next clear memory was the sudden jolt as your back hit the plush leather seat of the limo. taehyung’s hand, warm and firm, cupped the back of your head, guiding it gently to soften the impact. his touch was both tender and commanding, a subtle yet unmistakable assertion of his control over the moment. the rush of air, mingled with the lingering scent of his cologne and the intoxicating aroma of the night, created an atmosphere thick with unspoken desires.

as your eyes met his, he closed the distance between you, his lips finding yours with a fervor that sent a shiver down your spine. the kiss was a potent mix of passion and urgency, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that matched your own. the warmth of his breath, the slight pressure of his lips, and the way his fingers gripped your hair created a cocoon of sensation that drowned out everything else.

he broke the kiss briefly, his eyes still locked on yours, a fleeting moment of clarity amidst the whirlwind of emotions. “i think it’s my turn to say you’ve outdone yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and laden with a sultry confidence. before you could fully process his words, he closed the distance again, pressing his lips to yours with renewed intensity. the limo’s interior, dimly lit and private, became a haven for your shared moment. the air inside was thick with the mingling scents of alcohol, his cologne, and the faint traces of sweat from the evening. the mingling of these aromas, combined with the intimate setting, only heightened the electric tension between you.

as your nails clawed at his suit, desperate to feel the warmth of his body against yours, you were acutely aware of the recklessness of the situation. there was a part of you that knew, in the back of your mind, that this was a moment you might come to regret come morning. the clarity of dawn would bring with it the weight of consequences, the knowledge of what you had done. but right then, under the weight of his embrace and the intoxicating blend of alcohol and desire, those thoughts seemed distant, almost irrelevant.

taehyung’s hand slid down from your hair to your chest, his thumb brushing against the swell of your breast. your breath hitched as he squeezed gently, his eyes darkening with hunger. “you’re full of surprises tonight,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust. his other hand found its way to your thigh, slowly sliding up under your dress, the fabric parting like water around his fingers. your heart raced as he reached the apex of your thighs, his touch setting your skin alight.

his fingers danced around the edge of your panties, teasing, before dipping beneath the fabric. you gasped as he touched you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. “i knew,” he murmured, a smug smile playing on his lips. “i knew you wanted this as much as i do.” his voice was a seductive purr, his words a mix of praise and degradation that sent a thrill through your body. despite the vulgarity, you found yourself craving more, the need to hear him say those dirty things growing stronger with each passing second.

his hand continued to explore, his thumb now circling your clit with a maddening slowness. your hips bucked against his touch, urging him on. you could feel his erection pressing against your leg, a silent display of his own arousal. with a growl, he pushed aside the last barrier of fabric, his fingers plunging into you with a fierce urgency that stole the breath from your lungs. “fuck, tae—” you moaned, your voice a hoarse whisper that seemed to echo in the enclosed space of the limo. he smirked, his eyes never leaving yours as he worked his fingers in and out of you, your juices coating his hand.

his thumb remained a constant pressure point, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of release. you threw your head back, lost in the sensation, as he leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. the mix of pleasure and pain sent you spiraling, your body tensing and then releasing in a powerful orgasm. taehyung’s chuckle of satisfaction vibrated against your skin, his grip on your hair tightening as he claimed your mouth once more. your thoughts were a jumbled mess, but one thing was clear: this was the best sex you’d ever had. and for a brief, shining moment, jungkook was nothing but a distant memory.

you reached down to free his cock from the confines of his pants, your hand wrapping around his thick, velvety length. he hissed in a sharp breath, his eyes closing briefly as you stroked him, the tip already slick with precum. the sensation of his pulse in your palm was intoxicating, a silent promise of the pleasure yet to come. “you’re gonna take it all, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice a dark, seductive whisper in your ear. “every inch of me, until you can’t walk straight tomorrow. until jungkook is nothing but a pathetic little worm in your memory.”

his words sent a thrill of excitement through you, a heady mix of anger and lust that only served to fuel your desire. you nodded, a silent agreement, as he pushed your panties aside and positioned himself at your entrance. without warning, he slammed into you, filling you to the brim. the suddenness of it took your breath away, your eyes wide with shock and pleasure.

his hips moved in a steady, powerful rhythm, each thrust driving him deeper and deeper. your nails dug into his back as you tried to anchor yourself, the pleasure building with each movement. his hand found your breast, playing with the nipple as he pounded into you, the sting of pain from your tight grip on his shoulders only adding to the symphony of sensations.

his mouth found yours again, his tongue demanding entry, his teeth nipping at your lower lip. your bodies were slick with sweat, the leather of the seat sticking to your skin as you moved together. the air was thick with the sound of your ragged breaths and the wet slap of skin on skin. it was raw, it was animalistic, and it was everything you never knew you needed.

his thrusts grew harder, more urgent, his breathing ragged. “you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me,” he groaned, his voice a desperate growl. “you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard, aren’t you?”

you could only nod, the words lost in the intensity of the moment. as he sped up, you felt yourself climbing towards another peak, the pressure building like a crescendo in your core. when you finally shattered again, it was with a scream that was muffled by his mouth, his own release following swiftly after.

in the aftermath, you lay there, your heart racing, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. taehyung’s weight was a comforting presence, his chest rising and falling heavily against your own. you didn’t know what the morning would bring, but in that moment, all you knew was that you had claimed your victory over jungkook, and it was a victory that had left you feeling more alive than ever before.

when you woke up the next morning, the throbbing in your head was the first sensation that greeted you. the remnants of a night spent in hazy indulgence seemed to have manifested in the dull ache that now pervaded your temples. as you slowly gathered yourself from the tangle of sheets, you became acutely aware of the soreness in your thighs and the general discomfort that seemed to have settled in every joint of your body. the remnants of your encounter with taehyung from the night before were all too vivid, despite the haze of alcohol and heartbreak that had enveloped the evening.

the memories of what had transpired, the reckless abandon in the limo, felt like a crushing weight on your chest. you tried to push them aside, focusing instead on dressing yourself and stepping out the door as if nothing had changed. however, despite your efforts to maintain a facade of normalcy, the gnawing embarrassment at what had happened lingered in the back of your mind.

as you walked down the quiet streets, your pace quickened, an unconscious reaction to your heightened sense of anxiety. the sharp screech of tires sliced through the morning calm, making you turn abruptly. To your dismay, a familiar limo pulled up beside you, its sleek black surface reflecting the bright morning light. the window rolled down, revealing taehyung’s smirk.

“need a ride?” he asked, his tone teasing. “or was last night enough?” you scoffed, the sound sharp in the stillness of the street. “i have no idea what you're talking about,” you replied, attempting to walk away with as much dignity as you could muster. however, the limo kept pace with you, taehyung’s voice drifting out the open window.

“how about you come in, and i’ll enlighten you?” his words were laced with a mix of amusement and challenge. “no need. one disappointment is enough,” you shot back, frustration edging your voice. you were relieved when the limo finally turned around and drove off, your body tensing as you continued your walk.

but your respite was short-lived. as you rounded a corner, your heart sank at the sight of jungkook and tzuyu standing just a few feet away. they were intertwined, their hands clasped together, looking equally flustered and frozen in the moment. the silence between you all was deafening, each person seemingly waiting for the other to speak, yet no one moved.

just when you were about to speak, a familiar arm slid around your shoulders. you turned to find taehyung beside you, his focus unwaveringly fixed on jungkook and tzuyu. you tensed, feeling the weight of his arm as he drew you closer, and despite your discomfort, you couldn’t help but notice how taehyung's gaze remained defiant, almost mocking.

“it’s funny seeing you two here,” he said, his voice carrying a note of casual detachment. “you two look like escorts.” you fought back a laugh, surprised by the sudden shift in tension. tzuyu’s response was a scoff, her voice edged with annoyance. “you’re not funny, taehyung.”

he shrugged nonchalantly. “i wasn’t trying to be.” jungkook’s eyes were a mix of anger and hurt as he glanced from taehyung’s arm around you to your own stiff posture. “what are you two doing?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

you tilted your head, a trace of exasperation in your tone. “how is that any of your business?” taehyung patted your shoulder, a gesture that seemed almost patronizing. “don’t worry, he has a right to know,” he said before addressing jungkook again. “we were about to leave for brunch.”

the words seemed to hit jungkook harder than you’d expected. his expression softened, a fleeting look of hurt crossing his face. “that’s a funny coincidence. we were about to go too.” taehyung’s chuckle lacked any real amusement. “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said, then turned back to you. “we should all go together.” your head whipped around to him, eyes wide with disbelief. before you could protest further, jungkook had already agreed. the situation had spiraled out of your control, leaving you caught in a tangled web of the things you hated most in the world.

the restaurant was an elegant blend of sophistication and comfort, with plush velvet seating and softly glowing chandeliers that cast a warm, inviting light over the room. you were seated beside taehyung, who exuded a relaxed confidence that contrasted starkly with the tension you felt. jungkook and tzuyu were across from you, their expressions a mix of discomfort and guardedness.

you tried to focus on the menu, but the trembling in your hand betrayed your inner turmoil. to your surprise, taehyung noticed. his hand slipped over yours, his touch firm yet reassuring. the moment his fingers enveloped yours, the shaking ceased. the sudden calm was almost unnerving, but you tried to ignore it, instead fixing your gaze on the champagne bottle that the waitress had just placed in an ice bucket on the table.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange between you and him. his fingers clenched into a fist, the muscles in his jaw tightening. tzuyu shot him a concerned glance but remained silent. the atmosphere was thick with unspoken words and simmering emotions.

taehyung broke the uneasy silence, his voice carrying a note of playful reproach. “i was so disappointed when you two didn’t show up to my opening last night,” he said, his smirk widening as he turned to you. “you missed quite the show.”

your gaze hardened, a flash of irritation crossing your face. qithout thinking, you kicked taehyung’s shin with your heel. he let out a yelp, drawing a sharp look from jungkook and tzuyu. they exchanged glances but chose not to comment. instead, tzuyu responded with a curt tone. “we were a bit busy last night.”

you took a sip of champagne, letting the bubbles dance on your tongue as you maintained a steady gaze on tzuyu. “i’m sure you were,” you said, pausing for effect before adding, “how’s your cheek?”

her silence spoke volumes. she couldn’t meet your gaze, and you caught a glimpse of taehyung’s smirk from the corner of your eye. his amusement was obvious, but you forced yourself to stay focused. jungkook, clearly frustrated, asked, “do you always have to be so hostile?”

you finished your glass with a deliberate motion and turned to him. “try not to talk too much,” you said, your voice cool. “your cheek still must be sore.” tzuyu rolled her eyes, her tone laced with irritation. “his cheek is just fine, no thanks to you.”

you offered a condescending smile and took the champagne bottle, pouring yourself another glass. the liquid swirled within the glass as you swished it lightly. “careful, princess,” you said with a hint of mockery, “a dangerous thing to say with a last season valentino on.” you gestured toward her dress, noting the slight discomfort it caused her.

she fell silent, her expression tightening. taehyung’s hand moved to your thigh, his touch startling you. it was a jolt that snapped you into a heightened awareness of the situation. he leaned in, his voice a low murmur against your ear. “play nice.”

you took a deep breath, struggling to maintain a semblance of composure. every word, every gesture felt like an excruciating exercise in restraint. the effort was draining, but taehyung’s hand on your thigh provided a strange comfort. each time your hand started to tremble, he was there, his grip steady and calming. the trembling would cease, leaving you with a paradox of relief and frustration.

despite your best efforts, the undercurrent of conflict remained. every forced smile and polite exchange felt like a compromise of your true feelings. you were acutely aware of the intricate dance you were performing, trying to keep the peace while your emotions simmered just beneath the surface. but with each tremor of your hand and each reassuring touch from him, you struggled to maintain your fragile equilibrium, knowing that beneath the veneer of civility, everything was unraveling.

you were ready to leave, your patience worn thin by the tension and the forced pleasantries. the evening had drained you in more ways than one, and all you wanted was the solace of solitude. as you stood to go, taehyung’s voice cut through the air, calm yet insistent. “it’s a long drive. i’ll take you.” you scoffed, shaking your head as you reached for your bag. “my legs work just fine, taehyung.”

but he didn’t listen. before you could protest further, he had already grabbed your arm, gently but firmly pulling you towards the exit. you tried to resist, but he was unyielding, guiding you out of the restaurant and into the waiting limo. the door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing you inside with him, the tension from the dinner still thick in the air.

the drive was stiflingly awkward, the silence between you a heavy reminder of the mistake you had made the night before. the plush leather seats, the tinted windows, the soft hum of the engine—it all felt like an extension of the regret that gnawed at you, a physical manifestation of the night you wished you could forget. taehyung’s voice broke the silence, his words heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. “you regret it, don’t you?”

you couldn’t find the words to respond. instead, you turned your head to the window, watching the city lights blur past. the weight of his question hung in the air, and though you couldn’t bring yourself to answer, the silence that followed was answer enough. you could feel his gaze on you, the quiet pain it caused him evident in the way he shifted slightly in his seat. it was a silent, unspoken ache that settled in your chest, but you forced yourself to ignore it.

the drive seemed to stretch on, the minutes dragging like hours. you glanced at your phone, frowning as you noticed the time. “we should’ve been home by now,” you remarked, your voice tinged with suspicion. taehyung shook his head, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “i have to stop somewhere first.” you wanted to ask where, but the weariness in his tone kept you silent. instead, you leaned back into the seat, resigned to wherever he was taking you.

after what felt like an eternity, the limo finally came to a halt. taehyung was the first to exit, and you followed, confusion knitting your brows as you noticed the plastic bag of flowers he carried in his hand. the air was cool, a slight breeze ruffling your hair as you looked around, taking in the sight of the park that stretched out before you. but it wasn’t the park that caught your attention—it was the memorial center adjacent to it.

you trailed after him, your confusion deepening with every step. he walked with purpose, his steps steady and deliberate, until he came to a stop in front of a grave. you stood beside him, your gaze dropping to the headstone as he crouched down, carefully placing the flowers at its base. the name engraved in stone caught your eye, kim jeongsook, a loving daughter, wife, and mother.

your breath hitched as understanding dawned, your heart clenching with an ache that mirrored taehyung’s. he remained crouched, his hands pressed together, eyes closed in a silent prayer. the vulnerability in his posture, the raw emotion etched in his features—it was a side of him you had never seen before. “is this your mother?” you asked quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

he opened his eyes and nodded, the movement almost imperceptible. the softness in his gaze, the fragility in the way he looked at you—it broke something inside of you. you knelt beside him, your fingers reaching out to adjust the flowers he had placed, centering them with care. the silence was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was a shared moment of understanding, of unspoken grief and quiet solace.

“she’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. taehyung looked at you then, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “she was,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

you held his gaze, the weight of the moment settling over you both. in the quiet of the cemetery, surrounded by the stillness of the say, there was no need for words. the air was charged with unspoken feelings, a connection forged in the shared silence as you both mourned the woman who had given him life.

the drive back home was quiet, the kind of silence that wasn’t heavy with tension but rather a mutual understanding, a shared exhaustion. the earlier conversation had stripped away the usual banter between you and taehyung, leaving behind something raw and unspoken. he hadn’t said much after the visit to his mother’s grave, and you hadn’t pressed him. some things were better left undisturbed.

as the limo pulled up in front of your apartment complex, you turned to him, offering him a small, appreciative smile. “thanks for the ride, taehyung.” he nodded, the movement slow and deliberate, as if he had a lot on his mind. his eyes, usually so bright and full of mischief, were shadowed with something deeper—an emotion you couldn’t quite place. there was a heaviness in the way he looked at you, a weight in the air between you that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

you lingered for a moment, feeling as though there was something you should say, something that might lift the gloom that hung over him. but the words didn’t come. instead, you stepped out of the limo, the door closing softly behind you with a finality that echoed in the quiet night. as you walked into your complex, the familiar sight of the lobby greeted you, its warmth and comfort doing little to ease the tension knotted in your chest. you were almost to the elevator when the lady at the front desk called your name.

“miss (l/n)!” you turned to face her, noting the envelope in her hand. she held it out to you with a polite smile. “this came for you.”

you took the envelope from her, murmuring a quick thanks before turning away. it was an ordinary envelope, plain white with your name scrawled in a neat, practiced hand. but there was something about it, something that made your heart stutter in your chest, your fingers tremble as they brushed over the paper. you wished you hadn’t looked at it, wished you hadn’t seen the sender’s name neatly written in the corner. but the minute you did, it felt like your world ended all over again. a wedding invitation.

your fingers tightened around the envelope as you took in the names on the card—jungkook and tzuyu. the date was for tomorrow, just a day away. your breath caught in your throat as the realization hit you like a freight train. how long had they been planning this? how many months, or even years, had they been conspiring behind your back?

your world fell silent, the blood rushing in your ears drowning out everything else. it was as if the ground had been ripped out from under you, leaving you weightless and untethered, flailing in a void of disbelief and betrayal. your legs felt heavy, leaden, as you walked to your apartment. each step was an effort, each breath a struggle. by the time you reached your door, your fingers were numb as they fumbled with the key. the door creaked open, revealing the emptiness of your home, a reflection of the hollow ache in your chest.

you stepped inside, the silence of the room pressing down on you, suffocating in its stillness. your maid appeared from the hallway, her usual cheerful demeanor subdued as she noticed the expression on your face. “where’s my mother?” you asked, your voice flat, emotionless.

she hesitated, offering you a sad, almost sympathetic smile. “she left,” she said softly, the words lingering in the air before she added, “again.”

the finality of that word settled in your bones, the realization that you were truly alone sinking deep. you stood there, rooted to the spot, the wedding invitation clutched tightly in your hand as the emptiness of the room mirrored the void within you. all at once, the weight of the day crashed down on you, the betrayal, the loneliness, the heartbreak. you let the envelope slip from your fingers, watching it flutter to the floor as you stood in the silence, the walls of your world closing in around you.

the walls of your room seemed to close in around you, their familiar corners and edges transformed into suffocating reminders that everyone, in the end, leaves. the emptiness inside you mirrored the hollow space in the room, an echo of the losses that had piled up over time. every piece of furniture, every picture on the wall, felt like a ghost of a memory, haunting you with the truth you had tried so hard to escape. you couldn’t stand it anymore—the feeling of everything crashing down on you, the weight of it all pressing you into the ground until you couldn’t breathe.

you needed to go somewhere, anywhere, but there was nowhere that felt safe, nowhere that didn’t remind you of the people who had walked out of your life. the walls were closing in, and you couldn’t stay. with a desperate need to escape, you rushed out the door, letting your legs carry you without direction. the building’s corridors blurred as you sprinted through them, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing with thoughts too chaotic to grasp.

the sky had opened up, and the rain was falling in torrents, but you didn’t care. the cold droplets pelted your skin, drenching you to the bone, but you kept running. the water soaked through your clothes, plastering them to your skin, but still, you didn’t stop. your feet pounded the pavement, splashing through puddles, the rain mingling with the tears that streamed down your face, but you didn’t care. you ran until your breath burned in your lungs, until the world around you was nothing but a blur of gray and cold. you ran until you reached the only place that felt like it might offer some solace, the only place you knew to go.

taehyung’s hotel loomed in front of you, its grand entrance a stark contrast to the storm raging outside. you stumbled through the doors, oblivious to the stares of the patrons who watched you, a soaking, disheveled figure who had burst into their calm, orderly world. but their judgment didn’t matter. nothing mattered except getting to him.

you headed straight for the elevator, your steps unsteady but determined. your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, a chaotic storm that didn’t stop until the elevator doors slid open on his floor. you stepped out, and suddenly, you couldn’t move. because there he was, standing right in front of you, as if he had been waiting for you all along.

his eyes locked onto yours, and you saw the sympathy etched in his features as he took in your drenched appearance. there was no judgment in his gaze, only concern, and something deeper—something that made the tears well up in your eyes all over again.

your hand trembled as you raised it, the crumpled wedding invitation clutched in your fingers. “this and my mom,” you began, your voice breaking, “she just, she left and i—” the words failed you, your throat constricting as the weight of everything pressed down on you once more.

but before you could fall apart completely, taehyung was there, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides. to your surprise, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. his suit was immaculate, but he didn’t care as the rain from your clothes soaked into it. he just held you, his warmth seeping into your frozen body, his arms a barrier against the storm both inside and out.

you couldn’t hold it in any longer. the tears came in a rush, followed by gut-wrenching sobs that shook your entire body. you cried into his chest, clutching at his suit as if it were the only thing anchoring you to this world. all the pain, all the hurt that had built up inside you, came pouring out in waves that you couldn’t control. his arms tightened around you, his hand smoothing over your hair in a comforting gesture as he held you close. of all the things he had seen and expected of you, this was the last of them all.

taehyung guided you down the hallway with a steady hand on the small of your back, his touch gentle but insistent, as if he knew that you needed the support to keep moving forward. his silence was a comfort, a balm to the rawness inside you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his presence, drawing strength from the warmth of his body beside you. the world outside was still a blur of rain and shadows, but here, in this narrow space, it was just the two of you, and that was enough.

when you reached his door, he paused, glancing at you as if to make sure you were still with him. then he unlocked it, the click of the key in the lock loud in the quiet hallway. the door swung open, and you stepped inside, expecting the same warmth you’d found in his arms, the same comfort you’d desperately sought in your flight from the cold. but that warmth vanished the moment you saw her.

she was disheveled, her hair a tangled mess and her clothes—or lack thereof—a stark reminder of what taehyung’s life was like outside of the moments he spent with you. she was wearing one of his shirts, the fabric hanging loosely off her shoulders, and she was gathering her things with a hurried, almost guilty air. you didn’t know her, not personally at least, but it didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. she didn’t sneer at you or glare as she might have in some cruel twist of fate. she just slipped past you both, her eyes downcast as if she didn’t want to meet your gaze. she was gone as quickly as she appeared, but you remained frozen, your eyes glued to the spot where she had stood, her presence lingering like an unwanted ghost.

you didn’t know what to feel. should you be angry? hurt? disappointed? what were you supposed to expect from him? after all, you weren’t his girlfriend, and he wasn’t your boyfriend. there was no label, no commitment, nothing to give you the right to feel anything at all. but you did, and it hurt. taehyung noticed the way you stared at the empty space, his own expression faltering as he tried to gauge what you were thinking. he stepped closer, his voice softer than usual as he asked, “you aren’t mad, are you?”

you forced yourself to look at him, to meet his eyes even though it felt like shards of glass were digging into your heart. then you mustered one of your smiles, the kind that never quite reached your eyes, the kind that was more for his benefit than yours. the shift in your demeanor seemed to shock him, his brows knitting together in confusion. “why would i be mad?” you replied, your voice light and airy, as if the sight of another woman leaving his room hadn’t just shattered something deep inside you. you turned and handed him the drenched wedding invitation, the paper crumpled and ruined by the rain but still legible. It was a tangible reminder of the life you were supposed to have, the life that had been ripped away from you.

you walked around the room, your gaze flitting over the furniture, the decorations, anything to avoid looking at him. “you’re free to do collect as many diseases as you please,” you added, the words slipping from your lips with a hint of bitterness that you couldn’t quite suppress. he scoffed, a sound of disbelief that cut through the thick air between you. “i liked you better when you were crying,” he muttered, his tone defensive, almost wounded.

but you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. instead, you let the weight of everything you’d seen, everything you’d felt, sink deep into your bones, and for once, you allowed yourself to acknowledge the truth. you weren’t mad because you had no right to be. but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. and that didn’t mean you wouldn’t remember this moment, the moment when everything you thought you could rely on came crashing down around you once again.

changing in his bedroom felt like stepping into another world, one that was as foreign as it was unnerving. the room was dimly lit, the shadows long and dark, and everything carried his scent—a mix of expensive cologne, faint traces of smoke, and something uniquely him. you felt a strange sense of vulnerability as you rummaged through his closet, searching for something to wear. when your fingers brushed against one of his shirts, a simple white button-down that was far too large for you, you hesitated. it felt surreal, putting it on, almost degrading, knowing how many women had done the same. but unlike them, you had no choice. all your belongings were back home, in a place you couldn’t bear to return to, so you had to make do with what you had.

as you slipped into the shirt, the fabric cool against your skin, you couldn’t shake the discomfort that gnawed at you. it was as if the shirt was a reminder of how little you belonged here, of how temporary this moment was. the sleeves were too long, the hem hanging down to your thighs, but it was better than staying in your rain-soaked clothes. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and the sight made you pause. there you were, standing in taehyung’s bedroom, wearing his shirt, looking every bit the part of someone who had been broken down by life’s cruelty.

you sighed, pushing away the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm you, and stepped out into the living room. the first thing you noticed was the faint scent of smoke, followed by the sight of taehyung lounging on the couch, a joint between his lips. the soft glow of the lighter flickered against his face as he took a drag, his eyes half-lidded with the calm that only the drugs could bring.

you scoffed, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “you’re no different from a crack addict,” you muttered, your tone laced with disdain.

he looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, he was taken aback. not by your words, but by the sight of you in his shirt. there was something in his gaze, something raw and unguarded, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. it wasn’t lust, not exactly. it was more like wonder, like the sight of you had caught him off guard in the best way possible.

to his surprise, you walked over to the couch and plopped down beside him, close enough that your legs brushed against his. without a word, you snatched the joint from his fingers and took a drag of your own. the smoke burned as it filled your lungs, but it was a welcome distraction, a numbing agent to the chaos inside your head. taehyung chuckled to himself, the sound low and warm. “why’d you come all the way here?” he asked, his voice soft but curious.

you exhaled, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling, and passed the joint back to him. “i assume you saw the invitation,” you said, your tone flat. he nodded, taking another drag before answering. “i got one of my own,” he admitted, pausing as if debating whether to say more. “jungkook even drew a smiley face on mine.”

you scoffed, the sound bitter. “are you touched?” you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. he feigned a wounded expression, placing a hand over his heart. “truly,” he replied, his tone matching yours.

a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, but it quickly faltered as the weight of everything crashed down on you once again. “mom left again,” you said, the words heavy, as if each one cost you a piece of yourself. taehyung turned to you, his expression softening as he passed the joint back. “where’d she go?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you shrugged, the movement small, defeated. if only you knew where she had gone, where she always went when she left you behind. “probably back to dad,” you muttered, taking another drag. the smoke filled the silence, thick and suffocating. “she always says she’ll never leave, until she does. just like everybody else.”

you passed the joint back to him, your gaze dropping to the floor as you spoke. you didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes, didn’t want to acknowledge the truth in your words. it was easier this way, easier to believe that everyone would leave eventually. it hurt less when you expected it. taehyung studied your face, his eyes tracing every line, every feature, as if he was committing them to memory. his expression softened further, his voice barely above a whisper when he said, “not everybody.”

you met his gaze, and for a moment, you saw something there—something soft, something fragile, like a promise he wanted to make but couldn’t bring himself to say aloud. the softness in his eyes looked like a silent betrayal after what you had seen earlier. you couldn’t let yourself love him, couldn’t afford any more losses, so you stayed quiet.

the silence between you and taehyung was thick, almost suffocating, as the effects of the joint began to take hold. the world around you seemed to slow, the edges of reality blurring as the haze settled in. the tension that had coiled in your chest earlier started to unwind, loosening with each passing second. it was quiet—too quiet—yet neither of you felt the need to fill the space with words. you were both content to sit there, side by side, sharing the same air, the same smoke, letting the quietness cradle you.

but then, the stillness was shattered by the sudden, shrill ring of your phone. the sound cut through the calm like a knife, making your heart skip a beat. you froze, your eyes snapping to the screen as it lit up with the caller id. taehyung, lost in his own thoughts, didn’t seem fazed by the noise. he didn’t even glance your way, his gaze fixed on some distant point. but you—you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen. jungkook was calling you.

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to do. the sight of his name, bright and clear, sent a wave of emotions crashing over you—confusion, dread, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name. you cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, and with trembling fingers, you picked up the phone. pressing it to your ear, you tried to maintain some semblance of composure as you answered, your voice strained.

“what do you want?” you asked, the words sharper than you intended, laced with a bitterness that came from deep within. jungkook’s voice on the other line was soft, almost slurred, and you could hear the telltale signs of alcohol in his tone. he was drunk, or close to it, and the vulnerability in his voice was palpable. “i made a mistake,” he confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. “you’re the girl i want to spend my life with. i’ll do anything—anything—to have you back.”

your eyes widened, your heart pounding in your chest. you were at a loss for words, stunned into silence by the confession. this was jungkook, the one who had left you, the one who had torn your heart out without a second thought. and now, here he was, asking for a second chance, pleading for you to come back to him. it didn’t make sense. mone of it made sense.

the astonishment on your face didn’t go unnoticed by taehyung. he turned to you, his attention now fully on the conversation you were having. his eyes narrowed as he took in your shocked expression, and without warning, he snatched the phone from your grasp. you protested, your voice rising in alarm, but taehyung was quicker. he held the phone away from you, pressing it to his own ear instead.

“never call her again,” he said, his voice low and menacing, before he hung up the call without another word. the finality of the action left you reeling, staring at him in disbelief.

“what was that for, you asshole?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and confusion. you raised your hand to snatch your phone back, but taehyung was ready for you. he caught your wrist mid-air and, with a swift tug, pulled you toward him. the force of it made you stumble, and you fell against his chest, the heat of his body seeping into yours.

“were you really considering it?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “going back to him?”

you didn’t know how to respond. the truth was, you didn’t know what you were considering. jungkook’s call had thrown you off balance, and your mind was still struggling to catch up. taehyung’s grip on you tightened, and when you looked up at him, you saw something in his eyes—something almost like hurt.

“you were, weren’t you?” he pressed, his voice quieter now, laced with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

you shook your head, trying to pull away from him. “you have nothing to do with it,” you said, your voice firmer now. You needed to get away from him, away from the intensity of his gaze. he scoffed, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. “i have everything to do with it.”

“no,” you snapped, finally breaking free from his grip. you took a step back, putting distance between you. your heart was racing, your thoughts a tangled mess. “i’ll die before i become someone’s toy. don’t even think about it. i’m not my mother, so don’t think i’ll let you do this.”

he stared at you, stunned, taken aback by the force of your words. the room felt colder, the air between you charged with tension. he let go of your wrist, the hurt in his eyes deepening as he processed what you had said. “out of all people,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i never thought you’d see me that way too.”

your voice shook as you replied, “prove me wrong, then.” you paused, your heart lodged in your throat as you added, “three words. say them, and i’m yours.”

his eyes lit up, a spark of hope flickering in the depths of his gaze. he opened his mouth, and for a moment, you thought he would say them. you could see it in his eyes, the struggle, the want. but as the silence stretched on, you realized the truth. he wanted to say them, you knew he did, because he meant it. but the thought of loving just to lose—of facing that pain again—was too much for him. the words died on his lips, the weight of fear holding them back. you nodded quietly, your heart sinking as the realization settled in. you turned away from him, moving back to the couch, your movements slow and deliberate. you sat down, your eyes glued to the sight in front of you, refusing to let him see the tears that threatened to spill.

taehyung didn’t say anything as he watched you, the room growing impossibly still. after a long moment, he turned away, retreating to his room without another word. the door closed softly behind him, and with that, you knew you had your answer. the silence that followed was deafening, and you let it envelop you, suffocating and cold. there was nothing left to say, nothing left to do.

you woke up with a weight in your chest, a heaviness that seemed to anchor you to the bed, pulling you deeper into the sheets. the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, but it did little to brighten the darkness that lingered in your mind. the first thing you noticed was the absence of taehyung. the space beside you was cold, untouched, as if he had never been there at all. your heart sank further at the realization, the memory of last night flooding back in a wave of regret and confusion.

you sat up slowly, your eyes sweeping across the room in search of some sign, something that might explain his absence. but the only thing that caught your eye was the unfamiliar box sitting on the table across the room. it stood out against the familiarity of his things, a stark reminder that something was amiss. curiosity piqued, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded over to it, each step feeling heavier than the last.

the box was simple, plain, but it had a note attached to it, a small piece of paper that fluttered slightly as you picked it up. you unfolded the note, your eyes scanning the words written in taehyung’s familiar scrawl. “if he’s really what you want, tell him before it’s too late.”

your heart twisted painfully at the words, the implication behind them cutting deep. you clenched the note in your hand, your fingers trembling as you struggled to make sense of it. what did he mean? was this his way of saying goodbye, of pushing you toward something you didn’t even know if you wanted? taking a deep breath, you turned your attention back to the box, lifting the lid with tentative fingers. inside, neatly folded and pristine, was a dress—a pale pink, soft and delicate, the kind of dress that would be worn to a wedding. It was new, the fabric crisp and clean, untouched by time. you stared at it, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. you didn’t want to go, didn’t want to face whatever awaited you there, but you knew you had to. you had to prove you were strong, if not for anyone else, then for yourself.

you had spent your entire life proving your strength to everyone around you, showing them that you could endure, that you could survive whatever life threw at you. but deep down, you knew you had never truly proven it to yourself. this was just another test, another challenge that you had to face head-on, no matter how much it hurt.

with a resigned sigh, you slipped the dress on, the fabric cool against your skin. you didn’t bother with makeup, didn’t feel the need to present yourself as anything other than what you were—a woman who was tired, who was worn down by the weight of her own choices, but who would still stand tall, no matter what. your appearance alone would be enough; there was no need to mask the reality of what you were feeling.

as you left taehyung’s apartment, the note still crumpled in your hand, you hailed a cab. the ride to the venue was a blur, your thoughts consumed by the words he had left you with. “if he’s really what you want, tell him before it’s too late.” the sentence echoed in your mind, over and over, like a mantra that you couldn’t shake. but you knew the truth, the truth that taehyung couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see. jungkook wasn’t what you wanted. he wasn’t what you needed. what you needed was something you couldn’t have, something that was just out of reach, always slipping through your fingers like sand.

the venue was as grand as you had expected, filled with the usual trappings of a wedding—flowers, lights, people dressed in their finest. but as you stepped inside, you felt a hollowness in your chest, a sense of detachment from the celebration around you. you were there, physically present, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the confusion of your own thoughts.

you didn’t drink. you didn’t speak. you just listened, your eyes dull as you watched the festivities unfold. the happy couple moved through the crowd, smiles bright and genuine, and you couldn’t help but wonder how things had gotten to this point. how had you ended up here, in this place, feeling so lost and alone? Where had it all gone wrong? your eyes drifted through the crowd, searching for something—someone. but taehyung was nowhere to be found. the realization brought a fresh wave of pain, a reminder that you were truly alone in this moment. and then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, your gaze locked with jungkook’s from across the room.

he was standing by the bar, his eyes wide and filled with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, maybe, or sorrow. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, to reach out to you, but he didn’t. he didn’t move, didn’t speak. Instead, he forced himself to look away, turning back to his drink, leaving you standing there with the weight of a thousand unsaid words between you.

you let him go, let the moment pass without reaching out. you knew it would happen this way, had known from the moment you saw his name on your phone screen. there was nothing left to say, nothing that could change the course you were on. so you let it be, standing alone in the midst of the celebration, the note still crumpled in your hand as the world moved on around you.

the ceremony had ended, the final vows exchanged, the last kiss shared. the room slowly emptied as the guests filed out, leaving you standing alone in the midst of the decorated hall. you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone—not to tzuyu, not to jungkook, not to anyone. the silence that surrounded you felt heavy, oppressive, but you welcomed it, letting it wrap around you like a comforting shroud as you walked out of the venue.

the pain gnawed at you, deep and unrelenting, but the sharpest ache came from the absence of taehyung. he hadn’t shown up, hadn’t been there to witness the ceremony or to stand by your side as you struggled through it. his final act of love had been to let you go, to give you the space to decide whether you wanted to be with jungkook. but in the end, you hadn’t been able to follow through. you couldn’t find it within yourself to go to jungkook, to accept what he was offering. you knew, deep down, that it wasn’t what you truly wanted.

you didn’t know where to go next—whether you should head back to your own place or return to taehyung’s apartment. but something drew you to his place, a pull that you couldn’t resist. the walk there was long, each step heavy and labored, as if your legs were weighed down by the burden of your thoughts. when you finally reached his door, your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and anticipation swirling within you.

a sick feeling settled in your stomach as you stood outside his door, expecting to find something that would shatter you even further. maybe a girl, maybe two, maybe some other reminder that you were too late, that he had already moved on. but when you finally mustered the courage to open the door, you found nothing. the apartment was empty, eerily silent except for the faint sounds coming from taehyung’s room. you hesitated, straining to hear what was going on behind his closed door. the noises were muffled, but they weren’t what you had feared. they weren’t the sounds of moans or laughter; they were something else entirely. steeling yourself, you pushed the door open and stepped inside, freezing at the sight that greeted you.

taehyung sat at the foot of his bed, his body hunched over, shaking with silent sobs. his hands clutched a photograph, his fingers trembling as he held it close to his chest. for a moment, you couldn’t register what you were seeing, your mind struggling to make sense of the situation. but as you took a closer look, your blood ran cold. it was a photograph of his mother.

the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and before you knew it, you were rushing to him, your arms wrapping around him as if by instinct. he didn’t hesitate, didn’t push you away; instead, he held on to you with a desperate, almost frantic grip, his sobs wracking his body as he buried his face in your shoulder.

you let him cry, your own shock giving way to a deep, aching sadness. the sound of his tears broke something inside you, a raw, unfiltered pain that you hadn’t been prepared for. you could feel his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as he clung to you, as if you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. tears of your own began to fall, silent and unstoppable, as you held him tighter, offering whatever comfort you could.

in between his sobs, his voice broke through, raw and choked with emotion. “did you tell him?”

you knew he was referring to the note, the one he had left with the dress, urging you to make a decision about jungkook. you shook your head, your hand coming up to gently stroke his hair as you whispered, “no, no, i didn’t.” his sobs quieted down, his grip on you loosening slightly, but he didn’t let go. “he isn’t the one i want,” you continued, your voice soft but firm. the words hung in the air between you, a truth that you hadn’t fully realized until that moment.

the trembling in his body gradually subsided, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes red and puffy from crying. he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat, a mixture of vulnerability and something deeper, something you had always hoped to see in his eyes but had never dared to believe was there.

“i love you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words echoed in your ears, reverberating through your entire being.

you blinked, trying to process what he had just said, but before you could respond, he brought his thumbs up to brush away the tears from your cheeks. “i love you,” he repeated, this time with more certainty, more conviction.

it was no use—you couldn’t keep from crying. the tears spilled over once again, but this time they weren’t just tears of sadness. they were tears of relief, of joy, of finally hearing the words you had longed to hear for so long. “i love you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking as the emotions overwhelmed you. it was your turn to sob, your body shaking with the force of everything you had been holding back. and this time, it was taehyung who held you, who wrapped his arms around you and didn’t let go. he held you as if he would never let go, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

that was all it took. three words, eight letters, and he was yours.

✧.*

a/n: off-brand gossip girl

ion think yall jaeheard the way jaehyun put his entire jaehyussy into the “it’s killing me to know there’s someone else out there buying you roses,”