Nik

taehyung wasn’t weak, at least he thought he wasn’t. but when he looked at himself through other’s eyes, he did indeed appear like a small fragile package that the delivery man intended to smash.

“how was school, honey?” his mother asked, unaware of the voices haunting him.

“good, same as always.” he nodded, smiling at her because she hadn’t done anything. she was simply caring about him with a little less knowledge.

“great, you have a lot to do today. chores you disobeyed not doing yesterday.” she turned to him, smiling with a slight nod.

sighing, he started moving to his room, the hallway that held many doors. he figured, inside of him there were also many, many doors.

some strange, some odd. but the most important one was in his heart, the soft bright room that existed with colorful flowers and various creatures.

he was an exceptional student, a willingly helpful classmate. but no one came up to him. in fact, he hated group projects. not because he hated the assignments, but because he ended up all alone in a corner hoping he’d feel a touch on the shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t be an outcast to the rest of the lives around him.

he hoped the teacher wouldn’t have to partner him up with a group in pity, but it happened anyway. if he wasn’t somewhat smart, the table full of students would groan to see him coming. but they needed him, like leeches in a parasitic relationship.

he got the grades, but he also got the stares. it was never equal.

they watched as he used one of his fingers to push his glasses back on his nose bridge, as he wrote down everything that needed to be done, as he completed the project on his own with no help at all.

to an outsider, it’d seem strange. not because of what they made him do, but because he was rather attractive. who would bully such a handsome guy?

to the insiders, he deserved it. not because he was actually an ass hole, but because he had no choice but to live in the rumor the monsters created for him. he had to live in the expectation that he was a skunk, the worst animal to be around.

no fucking tiger, no. less of a panther. a skunk.

but he loved all animals.

he couldn’t understand why the skunk comparison would affect him negatively, but if animals endured this view in society, he might as well experience the role. he might as well know what it feels like to be feared of and found in trash cans looking for food to survive just to be made fun of with disgusted expressions and scared screams.

maybe.

looks; they don’t always save a person. nor make them popular.

It doesn’t matter how cool an animal looks, just like the sunfish, it can be made to look, ugly.

and everyday, would be the same routine. ride the bus where only elders would sit with you because they didn’t know who you were made to believe. walk to school with the shoes that needed new laces because they’d been cut on purpose. go to class and sit all alone because nobody wants to be your seat mate. go to lunch and have milk be poured all over you because it’s funny. leave to the bathroom to wash what you can or you’d be smelling like rotten milk the whole day.

go back home and get yelled at by your father to be better, to be a man, to do labor, and to buy him alcohol with the money you very much earned.

no big deal.

and four years later, the adult with the very same soft soul would walk out from the same door he hated. but it was different this time. he didn’t look like the nerd he used to be, in fact he looked like a young man that roamed the streets.

not because he wore tattoos or dark clothing. but because of his expression, his new way of living.

he still believes that animals are the greatest wonders in the world.

the immature titles he was given at school prior to graduating were now just a mere memory he’d grown to move on from. and he liked that. because finally, he could live with a mindset he himself created.

taehyung has been in love before. but it wasn’t so simple. her eyes, they held passion. seeing her crouch near every stray kitten on the way to school to feed them a little bit of bread she always carried had him wondering.

what would it be like to talk to her?

he was sure she’d ignore him like everyone else, but like they say, you never know unless you try.

with his off-brand sneakers, he made his way towards her crouched figure as she fed the cats near an alleyway. the distance to school wasn’t far, only a few blocks forward.

he figured, they had something in common. he loved animals, and maybe so did she.

“hey,” he greeted, her back facing him but earning her head to turn at the sound of his voice. he cursed at himself mentally for stuttering, his own breath getting stuck in his throat.

she looked serious for a moment, looking at him up and down, her gaze lingering for a while on his dirty pants.

the green color of grass was still stuck on it, due to the fact that he had to wash his own clothes and probably wasn’t good at it.

but then she smiled, and taehyung froze.

no one has looked at him that way. just his teachers, but out of pity. maybe some strangers he’d come across when buying groceries. but never, someone like her. so beautiful even if she was tainted with sin she’d look like a saint.

“hey.” she greeted back. maybe, she could understand him.

“I notice you, uh,” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “feed the kittens, and I do too. sometimes. they like meat, so I bring them some once in a while.” he admitted, a shy smile on his face as he lifted the bag full of cooked meat he’d stolen from the fridge before his mother could see.

she nodded, still looking a little confused as if asking, “so?”

“maybe, you would like to try?” he offered, the bag heavy in his shaking grip.

she stood up, the kittens slightly shying away from the sudden movement. “great, let’s feed them together?” she smiled, her face nearing his, making him flustered.

he nodded, moving to crouch where she originally was, the smell of food luring the cats to them once again. she sat beside him, taking a piece of meat right after him and following his lead.

“you’re good with animals.” she pointed out after finishing. noticing how they purred and rubbed themselves on taehyung as he fed them.

“thanks,” he blushed. “you too.” he wasn’t great at compliments, it being a very rare case. he wasn’t exposed to such great feelings. he’s had a few crushes but they hated him so it was of no use.

she was different. she waited for him at the bus stop every day to feed the cats, she waited for him by the gates to walk back, she talked to him like he existed.

she was straight forward, staring at him only to admit she’d been admiring his features as they walked through the neighborhood.

but she wasn’t clear.

he didn’t know what her intentions were, but he lied to believe she liked him. she’d shown signs of attraction, but ended up calling their situation as “friends.”

maybe he was delusional, maybe he wasn’t.

but one day, she held his hand, intertwining their fingers. her hand was warm, soft, and fit just right in his. he tightened the grip, his thumb owning a mind of its own and caressing the skin available.

“you know, I really like you.” she’d admitted, smiling up at him as he looked at her in silent disbelief. their walking slowed down, his heart racing. quite the opposite.

“you,” he whispered. “you like me?” earning a nod.

this was huge. bigger than the awaited season of his favorite tv show.

he didn’t know how to react. he wanted to scream but he’d scare her away. so he just smiled. “are you.. serious?” he asked again, unsure of reality.

she nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

how could he tell her he’s been in love since day one without sounding insane?

“you’re, smart, funny, such a nerd.” she giggled, booping his nose. he smiled, looking down at the pavement in front of them. being a nerd wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, then.

“does this mean,” he gulped, quite loudly. “we’re a couple now?” he asked, curious but nervous of her response.

she halted, her hand leaving his grip with a sharp pull. he faced her, scared eyes confused.

“are you joking?” she scoffed, his eyebrows now furrowed. she pushed a fallen strand behind her ear, only then noticing the small mic she had on her uniform collar.

“why would I wanna date,” she mocked, taking a step forward, making him do the opposite. “you.”

the shy smile that he once adorned on his lips miles away, his hands turning sweaty at his sides. what was wrong with him? why did he ruin what they had?

“fuck, you’re insane.” her laughter sounding like stabs to his chest.

he wasn’t surprised when the taller senior made his way to them, his arm now resting on her shoulders. smirking at him, “what, a, scene.” he joked.

“I can’t believe you actually fell for it.”

“thought you were the nerd.”

“babe, what did you expect from him?” they spoke.

taehyung wanted to burry himself, he’d rather been beaten up then experience such a play with his feelings. as if they had taken his heart right out his chest and used it as dinner.

but as he thought about it, no wonder they’d left him alone for a while, far too long.

“you’re not a tiger, not a panther. you’re a fucking deer, the stupid creature that runs its ass right to the headlights.”

he couldn’t help but let the tears drop. the very same eye the tear dropped from was bruised as he left, purple from the hit he had no choice taking. but he tried to fight back, not for himself. but for what they called him.

he loved deers.

he wore a leather jacket, his adult mind telling him to gamble but forcing himself to pass by the sinful door with drunk advertisements.

he walked towards the flower shop instead, stopping right at the window to admire the colors of the many petals of all different kinds. he loved flowers.

the bell rang as he pushed the door to the store. he didn’t know what to look at first, but knowing the exact names of each plant his eyes came across. though, a specific one caught his eye.

he didn’t know you were a flower.

but you bloomed so radiantly even as you were concentrated on the plants you resembled.

you looked at them carefully, fixing every petal out of shape for the sake of the aesthetics. his eyes couldn’t wander anywhere else.

your delicate touch caught his eye.

but you turned to him, smiling with your soft lips as you noticed him. “welcome, if you need any help finding flowers just come right up to me!” your voice cheerful but so, so, sinful. and maybe he just heard it that way.

he’d never seen you before, given then fact that you were the only flower he couldn’t name.

he nodded, his very same awkwardness sticking to him like a magnet.

you looked, exquisite.

like you belonged in a museum, better yet in a world without the damage of humans.

he found himself visiting the same store he stepped foot in that day, many times. he started small talk this time. until you knew his name when he came into your sight.

“your girlfriend must be lucky, getting flowers every day, huh?” you smiled back at him. he was confused, obviously you didn’t know whether he was or wasn’t in a relationship.

but either way, he was trying to get closer to a girl. to you.

“no,” he replied, his hands unsteady. the familiar feeling started seeping in, feeling like recycled paper that’d be tainted once again. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“oh.” you looked up at him, still smiling with a slight furrow adorning your forehead. “sorry, I shouldn’t come to assumptions.”

you apologized. a small smile creeping on his lips again.

“it’s okay.” but now a question lingered in his mind, if you thought he was taken, what could defend you not to be?

“what about you?” his voice wavering, hopefully only to his ears. “a boyfriend, or relationship, I mean.” his hands tightening their grip on the stems of the bouquet.

“no, no one seems to approach me.” you pause for a second, realizing how pathetic you sounded. looking back at him with eyes more droopy than usual, only to quickly switch back to a cheerful expression.

he felt relieved, but he also felt so wrong.

he didn’t have any business with who you talked to. If you were taken, he couldn’t have done anything about it.

he still smiled though, maybe, he had a chance. but he also wondered, you were so beautiful; how were you never asked out?

looks; they don’t always mean something.

on rainy days, he carried an umbrella. surprisingly, you didn’t.

“you didn’t bring an umbrella?” he asked, confused at the belongings you had near the cash register.

“no, it wasn’t raining when I got here, and the weather slips my mind most times.” you chuckled, your shift ending in a couple minutes. you had the morning shift today, taehyung practically knowing your schedule by now.

“I can walk you to the bus.” he offered, his eyes meeting yours in hesitation.

“I’d like that.”

you sat on the cold bench, waiting for the bus with taehyung to your side. the cold breeze hitting your skin rose goosebumps, shivering slightly.

“you don’t take the bus, do you?”

“no, but I’ll wait for it. for you.” he answered, turning his head to face you. his gaze was deep, determined not to let you go, your soul.

“thanks.” passing him a smile that truly reached your eyes.

taehyung grew scared. when you stepped onto the bus, leaving him sitting alone on the cold bench, he grew anxious.

you were leaving, and he knew it wasn’t permanent but he couldn’t help but think it might’ve been.

but when you waved at him with a smile through the restricting window of the big vehicle, he sighed. a small grin making its way on his lips as he realized, this wasn’t a goodbye. this wasn’t a pathetic farewell. it was a simple ‘see you tomorrow.’

because it truly was.

one would say he was a stalker. others would say he’s desperate. and maybe that’d be true, because he would find himself in the same building yet again, talking to you like close friends.

but he wanted to be more than that.

“what’s your favorite flower?” you asked, watering the soil of a few pots.

“I like,” he paused. he hated choosing favorites. frowning, he swallowed. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“same. I find beauty in every plant, even if it’s torn.” you faced him, catching his eye as he stopped spraying the petals with you.

“what about animals?” he brought up. you looked lost in thought, your eyes wandering around as if searching for an answer.

“I love deers.” you smile. “they’re, so gentle. and, so lovable. I love their little noses.” you described.

taehyung wasn’t shocked, but rather in awe. he didn’t expect it. you loved, deers. you loved him.

maybe not directly, but his heart pounded with a foreign joy.

“deers aren’t.. stupid to you?”

“what? of course not, no animal is.” you defended, taking him wrongly. your eyebrows were slightly furrowed, your tone slightly fierce.

“sorry.” he apologized. “sometimes predators call deers idiots.. because they willingly choose to die.”

you look at him confused, “they’re not dumb for that.” making him nod, a smile plastered on his face, his cheeks bunching up like soft bread-like hills.

you smile, “you can talk to me, y’know?” noticing his now lowered gaze.

turning to you, he leans a little closer to your face. his eyes focus on your lips, expression worried. you didn’t move, waiting for the moment for his lips to touch your own.

but suddenly, he stopped himself. “sorry.” your disappointment clearly shown on the drop of your shoulders.

you sighed, smiling and accepting that maybe, he didn’t feel the same way you did. you were just friends after all.

but why would he lean in to kiss you, if he didn’t like you? maybe it’s attraction, like all the other boys that’d played with you.

maybe.

taehyung didn’t want to fuck things up, especially not with you. but he hoped that the day he kisses you, he wouldn’t feel a small device at the collar of your shirt.

he wasn’t meant for things like this.

by the shore, both of you dangled your feet over the deck. it wasn’t a date, at least you claimed it not to be. especially not with the interrupted kiss back at the shop.

“y’know, when I was in school, I was like an outcast.” you admitted, hands settled in your lap. “kind of still am.”

he turned to look at your profile, noticing the slight pout of your lips as you thought deeply, eyebrows furrowed.

“you? but you’re.. beautiful. anyone would want to be your friend.” he muttered the last word, almost like a syllable that would cause harm to society.

you chuckled, “it didn’t matter, I was the ‘ursula’ of the school. even if I loved mermaids.”

he looked back down at his feet that moved right above the waves of the water.

“but you’re better than that.”

“not to them.” sighing as you moved to lean on your palms behind your back.

“I was, a skunk. worse, a deer.” he finally admitted. “back then I thought, I’d rather stink than be vulnerable because at least I’d have a chance to be avoided.”

“but I didn’t always want to be alone.” he continued. “and even when I tried, I was always left to be roadkill.”

you sat back up, putting a hand next to his lone one on the wood you sat on, pinky’s almost touching. “deers are beautiful. I love deers.”

he smiled, eyeing your fingers bound to touch. “I love plumerias.”

confused, “what does that have to do with me?”

“you’re as beautiful as plumerias.” your pinky’s finally touching, his hand finding the courage to lay on top of yours, even if it was shaking.

“thanks.” the word coming out more of a whisper than anything.

your place was warm, warmer than his, anyway. it had a cabin interior, when the outside looked a bit common.

it wasn’t big, nor as small as an apartment, but it was just right. it had room for everything that brought amounts of love. and you had a little puppy.

“what’s his name?” taehyung asked crouched near the dog’s bed in socks, his shoes left at the shoe rack by the door, marking his presence.

“haven’t given him one, adopted him from the shelter a few days ago.” you stated, noticing his gentle touch.

placing your keys on the kitchen island, you neared them both, petting the puppy’s fur along with taehyung, your fingers touching in the process. there was something so intimate about him being in your home, but now, he held a new title.

he wasn’t just anyone, he was your boyfriend.

“he has white spots, what about bambi?” he offered turning to look for approval on your face.

“that’s cute, bambi.” you nodded, turning to look at the puppy, the name sticking to him as soon as it was offered.

your bed was warm, but warmer than usual. not because of the temperature, or because you purposely turned your heater on, but because he was in the duvets with you.

his mouth traveled down the valley of your breasts, leaving his scent on you, his nose tickling the wet skin with its traces.

his thrusts weren’t rough, but pressured enough to rock your bed and push you towards the headboard. his hands were gentle, yet heavy. he wasn’t calculating the steps, or manipulating the way your bodies moved against one another. he didn’t calculate how you made love.

he was just loving you, not because of the sex, but the intimacy of brings. and even then, the moment your eyes met his for the first time, he felt an intimate tug on his heart.

a tug that uplifts him, not one that drags him down.

your hands marked his back, unable to contain the force of your fingers sinking into his skin from the sensation of him inside you.

he kissed your lips, his mouth open which allowed his tongue to meet yours. they swirled against each other, kind of like lost lovers that found their way home.

the wet sounds of his hips hitting yours under the sheets led you to a whole new world, your legs wrapped around his waist as he brought you to ecstasy.

taehyung didn’t believe in anything, even less reincarnation. he lived all of his dreams and human years with you, but now here he was swiped off all memories.

the fawn’s hooves were small as his legs were wobbly, trying to keep up with it’s mother. his ears caught many sounds and his eyes colors.

he noticed a plant looked strange.

but it wasn’t any plant. flowers were yet to bloom for this spring, the barrier slightly breaking allowing the smallest bit of the colorful flower to be seen.

deers weren’t necessarily attracted to flowers, leaving them alone most of the time.

but this one called to him.

returning to the same place as an adult buck, the deer found the traces of petals, navigating his way while recognizing the same trees he’d walked past.

the flowers were thriving, blooming like never before, the water from the rain still dropping to the ground as drops.

he leaned closer, his nose touching one flower’s center. he looked back. he didn’t remember a clear past life. he didn’t know anything of that nature.

but he knew something.

these were plumerias.

And yet, he still came to this place, filled with people who only greeted him and laughed beside him because of his fame, people who grabbed his arm to drag him from one side to another, telling him about a nephew who was a huge fan, or about a friend of a friend who had seen him at a concert years ago.

If he was being honest, he could’ve left hours ago. He could’ve grabbed his things and gone back home, laid down against his soft, comfortable sheets and slept until the next day, ignored the invitation and moved on with his life. He could’ve done that. But doing so meant ruining the only chance he had to see you again.

And he couldn’t allow that to happen a second time.

“Sorry, I need to make a quick call. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He just pushed himself up from the chair, squeezing past the guys blocking his way so he could finally escape toward the bar’s exit. He really needed some air.

Almost fifty minutes had passed since the party started. Why weren’t you here yet? You had always been responsible, always arriving a few minutes early to everything, prepared, organized, always one of the first people there to avoid problems.

Were you really not coming?

“Leaving so early?”

Jin wasn’t the kind of person who could recognize people by their voice. Faces, yes. Expressions too. But voices? That was his weakness, and hearing the voice of someone he hadn’t seen in over ten years was, well, impossible.

Or at least that was what he thought until now, because somehow, his body reacted instantly the moment he heard your voice.

“Y/N?”

He didn’t look up right away. He didn’t think he was capable of seeing your face without dying in the process. His heart was killing him, slamming against his chest so hard he felt like he might collapse from the pain at any second, and his stomach was an even bigger mess.

So he looked at your shoes first. He recognized them immediately. They were the same ones you had talked about years ago, the pair you desperately wanted because they were the perfect combination of comfort and elegance. He could still remember all the times you insisted that a good pair of shoes could take you somewhere good, because at the end of the day, they were what carried you through the world.

Your legs were covered by lime green pants, tight around your thighs and loose below your knees, a style he had always seen you wear back in high school, except back then the fabrics had been simpler, denim and cotton, sometimes even scraps of old clothes that would’ve otherwise been thrown away. You had always been good at giving forgotten things a second life.

The last thing he noticed before reaching your face was your shirt, cream-colored, made of a shiny fabric he himself had worn hundreds of times during performances in the past and whose name he had never managed to learn. It looked so much better on you. More natural. More harmonious.

Almost as beautiful as your face.

You hadn’t changed at all. Your hair was longer now, sure, and he was pretty sure the color looked lighter too, but your face was still the same. You still had that calm gaze from back then, the same shy smile you used to greet him with every morning, the same expression you wore every time a new school year started.

You looked even better now, with your confident posture and steady eyes.

Probably nothing compared to his flushed cheeks and parted lips.

“I didn’t think you’d remember me after all these years.”

You adjusted your bag over your shoulder, stepping closer until you leaned against the wall beside him. Just like old times, when you used to stand outside convenience stores together to hide from the rain, or simply to grab a quick snack.

“What?” He frowned, almost sounding offended. The audacity you had to say something like that to his face was unbelievable. “Of course I remember you. I spent six out of seven days a week with you.”

“Yeah. Sixteen years ago.”

“That’s not that long.”

“That’s basically the age of a teenager.”

“I don’t really see the difference between a teenager and a baby, you know?”

Saying his heart tightened when he heard you laugh would’ve sounded ridiculously cliché.

Pretending it didn’t happen, though, would’ve been a lie.

He hadn’t even realized how much he missed hearing your laugh until now. He didn’t know if he could go home knowing this might be the last time he’d ever hear it.

“You really haven’t changed at all, have you?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” You shook your head, lowering your gaze toward your feet. It was hard to make out your expression with your hair covering part of your face, but Jin could swear you were smiling. “It’s exactly how I imagined it, actually.”

“How I imagined it?” he repeated quietly, trying to make sense of your words through the chaos in his head. “You imagined this?”

“Us meeting again? Of course. You were… are my best friend.”

“Are? Present tense?”

He watched silently as your hand lifted to brush your hair away from your face and god, you really looked beautiful under the moonlight. Or maybe it was the streetlights. Did it even matter what was lighting up your face right now? The result would’ve been the same.

You still would’ve looked like the most beautiful woman he had ever known.

“No one could ever take that place.”

You nodded with a smile, trying to hold his gaze and failing completely. He noticed it in the way you looked away the second your eyes met his, in the way you shifted awkwardly with a broken little laugh, and in the soft pink spreading across your cheeks.

“Oh…”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I wasn’t leaving,” he said quietly, answering the question you had asked earlier.

He knew what he was about to say could make everything awkward. He knew he was taking a huge risk. But what exactly did he have to lose? He didn’t even have your number. If things went badly, he’d just… go back to living his life the way he had before seeing you again.

“Not before seeing you again.”

“What do you—?”

“I came to this reunion because I wanted to see you again.” Not even performing on the biggest stages in the world had ever left him feeling as breathless as he did right now. “It was the only way I could contact you again. I couldn’t let it slip away.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

His heartbeat echoed in his ears, his hands were cold with sweat, and he didn’t even want to think about the horrible trembling in his legs. He was sure he was about to throw up right there, sure he was about to hear a direct rejection to… whatever it was he had just confessed, and spend the rest of his life drowning in embarrassment and regret and—

Did you just laugh?

Seriously?

God, he knew it. He knew he had sounded ridiculous. This was his fault for opening his mouth without thinking twice.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s just go back inside. You haven’t even greeted anyone yet, right?”

He let out a nervous laugh, wrapping his trembling hand around the door handle. He was more than ready to drown himself in alcohol and use every acting skill he had to pretend nothing had happened out there when suddenly, a hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping him instantly.

“I came here just to see you too.”

“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

“I mean it.”

Throughout all the years you had been friends, he could swear he had never seen your eyes shine the way they did right now. He couldn’t help wondering if his looked the same.

“I wasn’t even going to come because I thought that, you know, since you’re an idol, you’d avoid places like this. Yujin texted me a few minutes ago to tell me you were here.”

“That’s why you were late…”

“I didn’t know if this would be my last chance to see you.”

He remembered hearing once that best friends thought and acted the same way. Now he understood why people said that.

“Why did you want to see me?”

The question slipped out before he could fully process it. Yes, he had thought about it the moment you explained why you came, but he hadn’t wanted to ask. He didn’t want to risk even more than he already was.

But then again, he had already taken too many risks tonight, and every single one of them had worked out.

So he was hopeful now. Certain, even, that this answer would be in his favor too.

He prayed it would be.

“For the same reason you did.” You smiled softly. “Or at least, I’d like to think so.”

Cheater.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Neither of you fully dared to take the next step. At least not explicitly.

A heavy silence settled between you. Everything felt more intense than before: the floral scent of your perfume, the colorful lights reflecting against your clothes, the distant sounds of cars and strangers passing by becoming barely audible to Jin.

He supposed this was what it felt like when you were seconds away from saying something you had kept buried inside yourself for more than half your life.

“I love you,” he whispered as quietly as he could.

He didn’t want anyone else to hear it. He didn’t want anyone else to know about whatever this was between the two of you, because it belonged only to you. He couldn’t share it.

He didn’t want to.

“I couldn’t say it back then, but I couldn’t keep living knowing you’d never understand how I felt.”

Felt, he said.

As if there weren’t still traces of those feelings left.

As if, even now, he didn’t still dream about what his life could’ve been if the two of you had stayed in contact.

This time, when he looked at your face, there was no laughter.

No surprise either.

Just… a smile. One you tried to hide by biting the inside of your lip. The expression of someone who had waited a very long time to hear those words. To hear that they had been right all along.

“I know,” you whispered back in the same soft tone, your hand slowly moving from his arm to his neck, until finally cupping his cheek. “I love you too.”

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. You, holding his cheeks between your hands, studying his flushed face as if it were one of the wonders of the world, and him, leaning into your touch, trying not to look at your lips for too long. Not here. Not in public. Not where anyone could see the two of you and—

To hell with it. He had waited sixteen years for this.

“I’m pretty sure we’d get into trouble if we did anything here,” he murmured softly, his hand settling against your lower back. “So… would you like to come home with me?”

“Woah, I don’t remember you being this bold, Kim.” Your laugh sounded lower this time, quieter, a tone he had never heard from you before, but definitely one he wouldn’t mind hearing again. “I didn’t drive here.”

“Perfect. Then I’ll take us.” He pulled his car keys out of his pocket, swinging them back and forth with a smug smile tugging at his lips.

He knew he probably should’ve gone back inside to say goodbye. It would’ve been the polite thing to do and all that… but he couldn’t find a single part of himself that wanted to return to that place instead of getting into the car with you and spending the night at home together.

He had already lost his chance once, and now? Now he refused to lose it a second time.

Jungkook’s fond of appraising things.

He’s fond of assigning values to things that may or may not hold some bit of importance to his life, whether its value proves itself in the present or the future. Jungkook likes setting his literal ducks in a row, and the little inanimate yellow tokens that his brother brought back from Earth serve as a discreet (not really, though) reminder that he may have some hoarder tendencies.

Jungkook’s not really a hoarder-hoarder; it just happens that he likes keeping things, sometimes for no apparent reason at all.

He likes swiping the flashlights that the night guards use to stash in his own personal “emergency” (not that there’s ever been one, nor will there ever be) cabinet, just because he wants to be prepared for a natural catastrophe that won’t probably ever happen in his area. He’s already seen a couple of films that humans have made, and if ever comes a time that Planet Twell has a dinosaurian monster battle it out with a gigantic prehistoric ape, Jungkook’s proud to say that he has a couple flashlights for him and his brothers to use.

In addition, Jungkook likes picking flowers just before they go out of season. His eldest brother’s already cussed him out for it, but he’ll still do what he does best (?), if best means “preserving” the flowers by drowning them in water every ten minutes so they wouldn’t wilt and he’d still get to see them during off-peak days.

Prince Jungkook likes appraising things in his own definition and pace. They’re never categorized in his head for what they actually do, but for what kind of unexplainable fulfillment fills his chest whenever he thinks about the item.

The youngest prince of Twell didn’t like it when there was a commotion at the lily field and the citizens ran out to see what it was about, instead of eating their slices of cake with the fondant that he made out of scratch. Jungkook didn’t like the fondant either because there must be something insanely wrong with itself (or it’s just that he made it just as bad), but he didn’t like being alone either when finding out about the taste.

He didn’t like seeing the tiger lilies he planted himself squished underneath an unknown figure, who may or may not have fallen from the sky, judging by the way you’re wincing alone with no aircraft, no parachute, nor any other person with you.

Jungkook didn’t like seeing you, an alien, who’s just as confused with the entire ordeal. You can’t remember anything about how or why you’ve gotten here — all you know is your name and who you are, and unexpectedly so, the first prince who’s gotten to where you are isn’t so thrilled about the fact.

He’s fond of appraising things, and although he’s not extremely excited about you just as he had been when Yoongi brought home trinkets from him during his trip to Earth (including the very seeds for the tiger lilies you’ve destroyed), he’ll make do.

Jungkook will try and make you mean something, if not everything, to him.

.

.

.

Prince Jungkook has come to learn that you’re part human.

You’re neither fully his kind nor his type (or atleast that’s what he thinks so) and he doesn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know what to feel about only the slight panic that filled you knowing that it’s still unexplained of how or why you’re in Twell; even more, he doesn’t know what to feel that you’re neither scared nor intimidated by him.

You don’t know what to feel either when Jungkook, who’s only mildly shocked about your existence in general, delivers his first question to you and it’s not of the sort that you expected. He looks soft and round, unlike the hearsay about his kind that only amounts to half of you. He doesn’t look aloof and unaccepting at all — if anything, he looks at you like you’re the one who’s cruel instead of him.

Jungkook almost completely does not care about who you are or where you’re from, but what he cares about is if you have any trinkets with you that he could possibly have. Out of anything he could possibly solicit from you, he only asks for so little, no matter how odd.

“T-trinkets?” you squeak, brows raising in surprise. “I’m sorry, Prince Jungkook — y-you’re asking if I have trinkets so you could have them?”

“Yeah,” he nods, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out as he confirms your confusion. “It’s my birthday, and I want to have a trinket.”

“Oh,” you blink once, twice,  a small smile playing on your lips to replace the fact that you’ve been confused for the entire half hour since you came back to consciousness. “Happy birthday, prince.”

“I see.” 

“It’s thank you,” you mutter automatically, coughing lightly when he only knits his brows at you. He’s cute this way — innocent, even. “I-I mean you’re supposed to say thank you when someone greets you, or when someone does something nice for you in general.”

“Okay. My brother forgot to teach me that,” Jungkook hums in recognition, eyes briefly glowing with a bluish hue before he regains his composure. “Thank you.”

You wonder if staring is also frowned upon in this planet.

You wonder if it would get you a mean glare or a sarcastic snicker if you were to stare at Prince Jungkook a little longer without any thoughts floating in your brain, except for the fact that you are completely unaware that you’re already zoning out on him. 

You wonder if it would be wrong for your eyes to take in every single detail of him from his short hair that softly falls onto his forehead, to his supposed birthday attire that only consists of a white button-up, to his gleaming royal jewelry that rightfully so, only looks like it would belong to him and him only.

“Trinket?” he reminds you, head tilting and eyes widening as he cranes his neck to look at you beyond the table that separates the both of you.

“Oh! U-uhm,” you scour your pockets immediately just to present something, and bluntly put, you haven’t even checked your well-being, much less the possessions you have on yourself. You feel more than relieved to know that it isn’t empty, because oddly enough, you’d feel a little upset— a little down if you were to disappoint a prince you just met not more than an hour ago. “I have this handkerchief, I guess.”

“Perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, leaning to grab the baby blue square from you that’s embroidered with your initials that are unfamiliar to him. He clutches it into his hand tightly with a smile on his face, the happiness later dwindling when he realizes he has no clue of what he’s holding. “What is it supposed to do?”

You blank at that, meekly scratching your temple. “Nothing, I think. It’s just there for most people, but I’ve never had to use it.”

“You’ve never had to use it, but you still take it with you?” he attempts to clarify, a slight frown embedded into his lips as he looks down on your averagely prized possession.

“I don’t mean never as in never ever, and I’ve used it a couple of times like everyone else does, but it’s just-…” you trail off, shrugging helplessly because you can’t describe the concept of nothing to him easily. “It’s just there.”

You’re more than fatigued and a lot more confused (albeit less worried) about the semantics of your presence here in Twell, specifically in Prince Jungkook’s office, but the latter doesn’t seem to take mind as he takes you with an open mind.

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll have it,” he announces, shifting his eyes between you and your (his now) handkerchief that he’s slowly and hesitantly unraveling, only to put back into its original square form after every move.

“You will?” you almost snort, a tiny bit amused that a prince is clenching your handkerchief like its the most interesting thing in the galaxy.

“Yes,” he hums distractedly, looking up at you as he lightly scratches the embroidered teddy bear at the corner of the fold. “I will have you too.”

“You will?! You’re not going to dispose me or anything?” you straighten immediately, eyes more frantic and disbelieving to hear that you’re being taken care of (or something of the sort) than just awhile ago when you were unsure of your fate. “Why?”

“Don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs just as easily as you do. “I just want to.”

( ♡ ) 

Prince Jungkook isn’t so bad, and neither is Twell.

The planet isn’t so bad in the sense that although you don’t feel the most welcome you have ever been in your entire life, there’s a recognition that seeps into your bones that some of them, if not most, would set out a plate for you if ever Jungkook came into their homes. He’s the social butterfly of his family; the baby lamb that’s set out into the field to check up on everyone else and act as a mannequin of sorts that’s a little less superficial, and a little more warm.

Jungkook isn’t so bad either in the sense that although it’s the bare minimum to do so, he doesn’t throw his kindness back to your face even in the most critical situations, with now being the sole exception.

With the exception of now, Prince Jungkook has not ever acted rashly towards you. He wasn’t annoyed with you when you kept asking him questions of what it would mean to act as his security detail, and he wasn’t irked either when your questions about your heritage (and his by extension) toed personal lines that no one else would dare cross.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never acted rude towards you. He wasn’t as guarded with your existence like his older brothers were; as a matter of fact, he even came to your defense when some of them theorized that you were only here in their planet to act as a precursor for their downfall.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never been this cruel; with the ultimatum of his pride over your heart, he’s never made you feel this different and alienated from him — with, of course, the exception of now.

Heartbreak is a human emotion.

The weakness of the concept is disturbingly human and vulnerable. There’s no escape from it, even if the said percentage of human in your blood is barely half and could light a candle to your more evolved, far more powerful Twellian genes. It’s a sickening emotion to feel, much more have it get you carried away from what you have to do at hand.

The grip that said heartbreakhas on you is unimaginable, far more different than what your people, not humans, tell you how it’d feel like. There had already been an uproar when it was announced that you were appointed as Prince Jungkook’s guard, the news of an impure Twellian bearing the coveted position receiving every reaction possible — from fear, to distaste, and even to genuine amazement.

All of the kingdom’s advisers had theorized that despite you of being impure heritage, youwere superior in terms of physical capabilities. With everything else you’ve been theorized to lack at, you bite at the possibility that the ache in your chest is attributed to your stunted emotions.

You feel painfully human. You feel what heartbreak is, and compared to what others have made it out to be, it’s an emotion that you can’t put into words.

“You can’t, Jungkook,” you firmly say once more with your ears ringing, not because the volume of the club makes you want to get down on your knees, but because you’ve perhaps heard something far worse; far more grating, and far more overwhelming than what your heart could even bear. "All of your brothers specifically insisted for me to bring you back before midnight."

They say that your hearing’s supposed to be better. They say that you could see far more colors than what your alien counterpart could ever do. They say that for everything else you lacked, you made up for with the way you’re more physically advanced and therefore adept to protecting the planet’s youngest prince.

No one’s ever said that you’ll be safe from Jungkook himself.

"Jungkook, let's go home. Please," you plead through your teeth, the word you’ve last spoken being the latest term you’ve taught him. Jungkook, along with everyone else, is not familiar with begging; they’re not familiar with desperation so wrung out, there’s actually a word made just for it.

Jungkook only scowls at you, eyes turning a bright red as opposed to his usual pink allotted for you. "Butt out," he murmurs, tightly crossing his arms as his nostrils flare involuntarily. ”You promised me I could be out tonight."

You’re starting to get over the heartbreak little by little, the tantrum thrown by the young prince making you indifferent. 

Maybe you just misheard a few minutes ago — maybe, it was only a fluke and you didn’t hear it correctly the first time. Maybe it’s only your faulty impureness that made you susceptible to just hearing your nickname out of nowhere. Maybe, it’s not heartbreak that you were feeling, but rather only a subdued version of it by seeing Jungkook disappointed at you doing your job.

It’s your fault, you guess. Perhaps it’s the fault of the bustle of the club and the hundreds of dialects you could hear all at once finally got to you, overwhelming you to the point that you heard Jungkook calling for your name, despite not looking at you all.

You’re about to plead even more for the both of you to go back already; to save him from a lecture from all of his brothers and for you to be spared an even harsher scolding because they think you’ve gone too soft for him — but then you hear it. Again. 

Jungkook clenches his jaw tightly, eyes glowing a bright magenta before he opens his mouth.

"Come on, princess," he calls you by his term of endearment for you, yet his hand is outstretched for the female Twellian on his side.

He’s not calling you — he’s not even paying attention to you. Jungkook isn’t giving you a shred of his focus but he wants you to hear him call someone else the endearment he had playfully made up for you, to which you grew accustomed to without fail. He wants you to see how he gives it to someone else easily, the syllables falling from his tongue easily getting into the girl’s head.

Jungkook wants you to know how angry he is over you doing your job, he hits you where it hurts. He has no idea what heartbreak is supposed to feel like, but he doubts that you’d even feel that emotion over what he’s done — and if you actually do over something seemingly simple (for him atleast), he could only think that everyone else is exaggerating what it felt like.

Your heart, whatever is human of it, skips. It tightens and it loosens alarmingly so, almost as if you have no control for the liquid hurt that compromises you.

“I’ll show you a good time tonight, princess,” Jungkook whispers to her ear loudly for good measure, eyes darting up at you, only for him to see that you’ve been watching the whole time. 

You almost can’t tear your eyes away until Jungkook crashes his lips into hers, your nickname easily falling out of his lips as if the endearment is free for everyone; as if it’s never been yours in the first place and you only borrowed it out of desperation.

Your whole flight home is quiet.

Jungkook makes it back home before midnight, but you don’t.

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s been looking for you the whole day.

He’s been looking for you since he woke up, and that was fifteen ungodly hours ago when he had risen in a cold sweat. Jungkook felt sick to his stomach, and despite his insistence that something must be severely wrong with him for him to feel that way, the palace doctor (along with every other physician, healer, and reader he knew of) confirmed that nothing was out of place.

Jungkook’s supposedly okay, yet it feels like every part of him is being wrung dry. There’s an ache to his chest that renders him stupid because he feels like he’s forgotten every word, every lesson, and every vaguest bit of semblance that would detail about what he felt.

All of a sudden, Jungkook feels like he’s forgotten what the palace looks like. It’s as if he’s forgotten how tiles are supposed to feel cold on bare feet and how bleak his days are when he doesn’t have you by his side, even if the palace is also occupied by his brothers and the grounds are teeming with staff.

The young prince suddenly feels that he’s forgotten the very layout of his home because his mouth is agape at each room he walks in, simply because you’re not there. He’s practically turned the palace upside down just to grab a whiff of you somehow, and yet you’re nowhere to be found. 

Nothing from his or his brothers’ belongings are missing. There’s not a single piece of furniture that’s tilted askew. Nothing has been taken from Jungkook except his peace of mind and the capacity to just stay still because your sudden disappearance unsettles him like no other.

.

.

.

You’re back home, except you’re no longer dressed in the same outfit you left him in. 

Your uniform’s been ditched for something more casual — something more worn and lived in to the point that it looks like a shirt that’s never been yours in the first place. The sight of you, dressed in clothes that’s not yours, puts a bitter taste to Jungkook’s mouth.

He’s never been that selfish before. He’s generous and lenient as far as a prince could go, and yet he’s never felt this territorial over something seemingly as trivial as a shared garment.

The concern feels too vulnerable to the point that only a silly human, something Jungkook’s not, would consider it as a burden.

“Where were you?” he asks with the gentleness he didn’t think he’d possess after being worried shitless about you, the panic he had harbored for the longest time immediately dissipating at you.

Jungkook wants to be mad at you so, so, so badly. He wants to be angry at the way it was irresponsible for you to be alone because after all, your strength wouldn’t compensate for the gleaming fact that you’re not from here in the first place.

“I was on my leave,” you answer simply, keeping your hands behind your back as if this was any other outing with Prince Jungkook and not just Jungkook, the same man who’d call you princess for fun and hold your hand just for the sake of it.

“I didn’t say you could be on leave,” he lowers his voice, jaw tightening at the sight of you being indifferent towards him.

“I asked your brothers.”

Jungkook feels that sickness again. He feels that tinge of metal that lingers in the roof of his mouth and he wants to spit it out in front of you just to see if he’d find something else that’s not the sensations he’s been experiencing since you came around; if he’d find something else that’s not your doing yet affects him just as much.

“What if I needed protecting, hm? What if something happened to me while you were gone?” Jungkook half-taunts, shrinking on himself despite doing his hardest to appear big by crossing his arms.

“I knew you were in good hands, prince,” you tense, the tide that comes with your tone washing over Jungkook until he drowns in the realization that you were there while she was in his quarters. “I made to sure to hear that you were in very good company before I left.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s on a self-imposed break from his duties.

The prince’s duties almost exclusively involved chatting and being charismatic in general, along with the occasional goodwill event wherein he had to be all over the place just to take care of things, and not once did he ever take this long of a radio silent break — or atleast that’s what one of his brothers said.

He’s been cooped up in his room since you came back two weeks ago. Despite your absence (if you could even call it that) that barely lasted for an entire day, along with your confrontation just spanning within minutes, it’s been theorized by one of Jungkook’s brothers, again, that it’s because of your doing.

The youngest prince is theorized to be sulking over you and you simply cannot believe it.

You refuse to believe that Jungkook is bedridden with sadness because to begin with, his kind isn’t even supposed to feel such type of intense emotion. He shouldn’t be swayed by you — he shouldn’t be preoccupied with such pathetic, human emotion that you thought only you could feel because of him.

You rebuff the idea that he’s paralyzed with guilt, not only because you feel that it’s physically impossible for him to be, but because it’s him. Someone of Jungkook’s power and influence wouldn’t be so ridden with guilt that he refuses to show his face to you because he’s ashamed of hurting you.

You reject with your whole heart each and every idea that his brothers pitch you. You stay stationary with Jungkook and yet you will yourself to amount to something, even if it isn’t for him, just so the sickening feeling of being replaced won’t ever creep up to you.

You’re in love with him and it’s terrifying.

What’s even more terrifying is that you’re not the only one who knows so.

“I suggest not falling in love with Jungkook.”

You look up so sharply, your neck aches at the speed. Yoongi stands above you with a perfunctory smile, and with just the tiny bit of effort for him to come near you almost makes you forget that he’s Jungkook’s brother who had been particularly vocal about being wary of you.

“I’m sorry?” you murmur in disbelief, eyes wide and unblinking as you take into account his perfect tone.

“It’s obvious, you know?” he smiles tightly, pulling a chair to sit himself down across from you. Yoongi looks relaxed as he takes you in, almost as if he hasn’t spent half a year avoiding you. “I’ve seen the way you look at my brother. I’ve seen it over and over again when I was sent for a mission on your planet.”

You want to ask him why he’s telling you this. You want to ask badly why he’s saying this now when you’ve been certain for the longest time that your adoration for Jungkook wasn’t apparent in a land of creatures that don’t know what love, in your own terms, is supposed to look like.

You want to ask Yoongi why it shouldn’t be Jungkook, but you can’t bring yourself to — not because you know the answer deep down in your subconscious, but because you’re afraid that he would only make sense—

That he’d only solidify why Jungkook should never be in your orbit.

“Oh,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you like my planet then?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I’m sorry, my prince,” you immediately apologize, looking down on your lap as you wait for the impeding lecture; maybe even the impending punishment (you’re not sure what it is, but you know it would hurt someway and somehow) that comes with loving the prince, even by the sidelines.

“Jungkook is a wildcard at best,” he trails off, exhaling heavily as he listens for the heartbeat in the room behind you that houses his brother. “He’s brash and stubborn. He’s driven by emotions we are not even supposed to have.”

If Yoongi stands up now and jiggles the knob to Jungkook’s room with just the slightest bit of force, he can guarantee that the latter would be falling face-down to the floor, just because of the way he has his ears pressed to the door.

Jungkook is moping and sulking and to this day, he does remain miserable — the aforementioned factors don’t stop him from being desperate and nosy.

“What I’m saying is that he’s weak, Y/N,” Yoongi sighs. “The strong isn’t for the weak. That’s always been the case.”

“I know I’m weak, prince, but I-…”

“What?” the prince laughs out loud, the smile on his face wide and cheery. He’s so amused with you that his eyes glow into pink, throwing his head back as he regains his composure. “Jungkook’s the weak one. Not you, obviously,” he snorts. “He’s basically a loser with a crown on his head. He’s the one who doesn’t deserve you and not the other way around.”

You’re not the one who’s being insulted, and yet it feels like it. Your throat tingles and your ribs burn at the sudden urge for you to protect Jungkook, even if he’s in no real threat; even if it feels like all the baser parts of you are coming together just to make sense of the way you grow simultaneously weak and strong for him.

Jungkook, the actual subject who’s being insulted and is proving his brother right by being weak because he’s wallowing in his room out of self-deprecation, sadly hums to himself in agreement.

“I’m not-…”

“Don’t refute it — that’s an order.”

“Prince Yoongi,” you relent, trying to find the right words. “May I ask why you’re telling me this?”

“Because Jungkook’s weak,” Yoongi answers simply. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to be weak with him and for him.”

( ♡ ) 

You’re eating dinner by yourself in the staff room when Jungkook walks in.

It’s the first you’ve seen of him in three weeks. He’s evidently moving on from what seems to have been a rough period for him, right when you’re at your lowest that you’ve ever been.

Prince Jungkook decides that after three weeks, he should take you by surprise and meet you in the staff room wherein you’re alone, pushing your dinner around your plate instead of doing any other menial task you’ve assigned yourself just so it would feel like you’re in use.

You’re just there. You just happen to be there and no one, even you, could do anything about it. You just happen to be there with no exact purpose and it’s gnawing at you from the inside out.

It feels all over again that your family is the runt of the entire extended bloodline. It feels that you’re not remarkable enough for your relatives to surround you and that you don’t amount to anything enough, in whatever aspect it is, to get a shred of attention that isn’t pity,

It feels like the sinking sensation in your chest wherein you have to see that all your mom could contribute to the table is her trusted homemade recipe during holidays, lost amongst a sea full of pre-ordered meals that only your relatives could afford. Like it’s how your dad’s side of the family is borderline batshit crazy and he’s the only one that turned out to be good, and you can’t do anything but watch strangers your have for blood relatives belittle you. Familiarly so, it’s like you’re a kid again with your siblings sitting on the carpet and cleaning up wrapping paper from gifts, not because the gifts are for you, but because you just happen to be there.

You feel like the alien that you are wherein you don’t belong; wherein your family has to sit on the spare chairs dug up from the basement, situated on a portable table outside of the actual, solid dining table where everyone’s sat. 

Jungkook sits with you at that dusty, old portable table. He sits himself on the flimsy chair that’s only used for stepping and for laundry.

Jungkook sits with you, not because he just happens to be there, but because he’s there for you.

“I’m… sorry for calling someone else princess.”

“It’s no problem,” you murmur, putting your fork down as you keep your hands glued to your knees underneath the table.

“But there is a problem,” Jungkook counters, lowering his head to get you to look at him yet you don’t budge. “I’m not okay with calling anyone else princess other than you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Then suit yourself,” you quip, even with your voice shaky and your vision blurry.

“I’m-…” Jungkook starts again, racking his brain for the limited vocabulary he has that surely isn’t enough to make up for his grave msitake. “I’m very sorry for making you feel bad. It must have hurt.”

“It’s no problem.”

“There’s a problem,” he insists. “I’m saying sorry because I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I did,” he frowns, beyond confused to why you keep denying the fact that he’s hurt you in ways he can’t even imagine.

“You really didn’t.”

“Why do you not want me to say sorry?” Jungkook questions, voice raising yet he still looks confused— innocent, even. “Did I… hurt you that much?”

It’s the last straw for you. The pure innocence in Jungkook’s words is and should be the last straw for you because it only makes you realize that he’d never understand you. It resonates in your head, more than ever, that you’ll never be able to understand him fully either because you’ll never be the same.

The only option the universe provides you is for you to love Jungkook halfway.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Prince Jungkook. I shall go back to-…”

“Can I not say sorry to you?” Jungkook bursts, darting his hand out blindly to get a hold on you before you leave.

“You can’t say sorry to me because all of this would feel real,” you ramble, shaking your head vehemently. “You should not say sorry to me because that would mean that I’m hurt because I love you.”

Jungkook looks at you innocently with his eyes wide and lips parted, blissfully unaware of the name to the sensation that keeps tugging at his chest to the point that it feels like it would burst open, yet above all else, he still dives in head-first.

“Can you not love me, princess?” he tilts his head. “Is it not allowed?”

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s words lie heavily on both you and Jungkook.

The prince’s sentiment stays on your chest like a paperweight that only grows heavier the more that you try to push it off. You know Yoongi means well, no matter how his words come across otherwise, but the longer that you think about his own suggestion regarding his brother, the more you feel unsure.

Jungkook’s made complete sense of his brother’s words on the other hand, and instead of being filled with a type of rage that only bubbles up when being looked down on, oddly enough, he comes to the truth quite easily.

He knows the truth that he’s weak despite painting himself the opposite, and he feels it the most now that you’re the one who’s distancing yourself from him. Jungkook feels like swallowing the sun and chasing it down with water when you respond to princess, even if it’s jokingly uttered by his brothers and not said sincerely by him alone.

He knows the truth that he’s the weak one in the family, if not the weakest, whenever he stands next to them. Jungkook may be the poster prince for the citizens but he knows the most out of everyone that he’s not as vital to the kingdom as the others are. He may get an assigned seat at the actual, solid dining table, but he knows that he’s not at the head of it.

He knows he’s weak, with and for you, and that’s never bothered him until it actually did.

Jungkook’s eyesight isn’t as good as yours.

Unlike you, he’s restrained by the entirety of his Twellian blood from immediately focusing his gaze on anything. There’s a lag that registers whenever he fixes his sight on anything, just like everyone else but you, and that hadn’t been a bother to Jungkook the whole time.

He had falsely assumed that since you’re the only one who’s different here, the only exception in the planet by being impure and partially human, you’d be the one who’ll have a hard time adjusting your daily life to his — not the other way around.

Jungkook, who had not once ever felt insecurity before, suddenly feels inferior. He feels like dirt and yet he’s angry, not because of the fact that he comes second to your abilities, but because he can’t do shit when it comes to you.

The prince’s eyesight isn’t good enough to notice the tiny little expressions that litter your face whenever something remotely intriguing happens to you. His hearing isn’t on par with yours because he can’t register the laugh in your voice as quickly as you could recognize his. He’s not on the same level as you and it’s only now that it bothers him—

The realization creeps into Jungkook, slowly yet unsettlingly, when he sees the cut on your cheek; the liquor of inferiority, chased down by Jungkook’s own rage, only hits him the moment he sees that a nasty bruise is blossoming by the corner of your eye.

Jungkook grips your jaw lightly out of nowhere, making you look up at him unexpectedly when you had been only preoccupied with fixing him his drink. The prince, no matter the unmistakeable rage that’s brewing in red, is the softest he’s ever been when it comes to addressing you.

“Who hurt you?” 

He has all his attention on you and it’s almost sickening with the way he doesn’t want to break off. Jungkook’s hand is still on your jaw and his eyes are still fixed on yours and yet his mind, whatever remains rational of it and not just vengeful, is going a million miles per hour.

“Get your hands off me,” you spit, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the vitriol that spills out of him so clearly, the air around both of you shifts.

“I asked you a question,”Jungkook repeats, putting is hand on your wrist firmly instead. He makes the grave mistake of looking down, though, because as soon as he realizes that there’s blood caked underneath your nails and that your knuckles are stained with your own blood, Jungkook can no longer hold himself back. “Who. Hurt. You.”

Jungkook’s reflexes are slow, but the moment your bottom lip trembles in vulnerability and pure bitterness, he feels as if time has caught on to the point that it’s only your anguish that sharpens his senses.

His feelings, even.

“If I tell you, would it make a difference? If I’m considered weak, Jungkook, then that means you’re even weaker,” you scoff, eyes trained on the ground with your head low so you could muffle the tremble in your voice; not that it would make your prince any less attuned to you.

Jungkook’s eyes remain narrowed at you, breathing heavily as you only state the facts not to insult him, but to remind the both of you of your place — or whatever is left clear of it because Jungkook can’t even think straight the longer that he looks at you hurting.

“What, prince? What are you gonna do about it?” you spit as the last resort, standing up abruptly to storm off and make an escape for it just once so you’ll be free of the burden of being yourself in Jungkook’s existence, yet he doesn’t let you.

The grip that the prince has on your arm is unstable yet unyielding at the same time, as if it’s taking everything in Jungkook to remain standing despite wanting to hunch over by the unexplainable tremor that roots from his chest.

(It is taking everything in him.)

“Burn,” he utters. “I’ll burn everything.”

“You’re-…”

“Weaker than you? I know that,” Jungkook interrupts, his lips set in a straight line as he lets himself be swept by the current that is you. “All the more reason to do everything for you then.”

The young prince doesn’t even break his gaze from you once, even if his pupils are trembling and his teeth are chattering out of the sheer trepidation that comes with being scared for someone else who carries your heart with them.

He doesn’t break his gaze from you, even for the briefest second, as he fishes out his (your) handkerchief from his pocket that’s there, not because it just happens to be, but because it’s allotted for you.

To love and to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides, and Jungkook no longer wants the star to swallow him whole because he doesn’t want you to be burned.

Quick Summary:

This happens after all the other stories, aka, Joon, Jimin and Yoongi.

Lily Potter was best friends with Reader in Jimin's story.

Jeongguk is Jimin's adopted little brother, also explained previously in Jimin's story.

Taehyung and Jimin are 7th years, Jeongguk is in his 6th, while all the others just graduated.

“Did you see?”

“Yes! I can’t believe it.”

“Seems impossible!”

“Riiight? Like a fever dream or something.”

“What do you think he did?”

“Enhancement potions, perhaps?”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Don’t be daft, the beauty kind.”

“From where?”

“I hear the biggest brand of beauty potions from America just got approved for a license into the UK. Frontpage on the magazines last month.”

“My mum mentioned it during tea time the other day! Didn’t realize it would hit off with the males though.”

“Does it matter? Atkinson got well fit over the summer.”

“Enough to shag?”

“Weelll…” An unseen look was shared between the gaggle of three sixth-year girls occupying the far end of the common room sofa and armchair, heads bent close together as they giggled almost obnoxiously to themselves, thinking no one was hearing their conversations. 

No one that mattered that was. And that no one certainly included yourself. 

Not one nearly important enough to watch their words around in fear of it reaching someone else. 

Which is why you were free to sit in your usual place against a tiny wooden table large enough to fit two cups of tea tucked beneath the smallest window the Ravenclaw tower had to offer, in one of its darkened corners and listen to the juiciest gossip of the new term.

First days of classes were in the morning, everyone having just arrived today and catching up with friends the summer apart. 

Again, that did not include you. But out of free choice, that is. 

You were perfectly happy in your own company, with your books and scrolls tucked into secret corners or end of tables. Mostly absorbed in your own world, but also finding entertainment in simply listening to everything around you rather than engaging in it. There was a specific serenity in it for you, an aspect many could not understand and didn’t bother to spend time finding out.

You were simply you, after all. The Ravenclaw wallflower since you first stepped foot into the magical school. Someone people knew, but not by name. Someone who might just flitter into people’s memories in a passing mention, but forgotten again the very next. 

There were many great names at Hogwarts with you. Especially in the last two decades since the years of your parents. Potters, Weasleys, Malfoys, Greengrasses, Parks and numerous other great names of ancient wizarding families and their offspring. 

You were a pureblood, yes. But your parents were from normal wizarding families despite it, and so were you. 

Someone who was simply there. A student among other students.

No great name, no ancient blood and a heroic history attached to it before your birth. 

And you preferred it that way. 

The giggles of the group of girls one year younger than you turned into frantic mutters the moment the subject of their conversation walked into the common room, and you found enough interest to peel your eyes away from the rather gripping muggle book in hand to pay a smidge of attention. 

Jensen Atkinson, a classmate in the same house had remained remotely the same in all the time you’ve seen him. Because knowing was far too much of a generous word. 

An average British boy, perhaps a bit too scrawny with a thin face and oversized, thick glasses that hid most of his features. He usually had a pimpled face, which you had heard him complain about several times over the years. 

He wasn’t ugly, so to say. You never thought so. 

He was sweet. Not as hidden in the background as you, but kind and soft-spoken all the same. With his straight, if a bit messy dark blonde hair and wide smile which had that small gap in the middle. 

Endearing, was the word you were looking for. 

And you didn’t know what beauty potions they were talking about, but even you had to admit they had done their job for two months. 

There were no pimples for once, only smooth, fair olive toned skin. His hair was no longer a shaggy ruffle of strands, but rather refined and almost a deliberate mess this time around - loosely slicked back with strands falling into his forehead and covering the top of his eyes. 

Jensen grinned as he walked towards a group of his mates, teeth perfectly straight with no gap in sight. Neither were his features hidden by the too large glasses, having been replaced with a new pair; thinner frames, straight at the top and rounding at the bottom to fit his slightly more filled out face and wider jawline that had sharpened with whatever assistance. 

Hm. They weren’t wrong. 

But you knew a secret they didn’t. 

Jensen Atkinson had never been unfit. In the physical sense of things that is. 

You caught him once, in the dewy early mornings of a sunny autumn on a weekend when everyone was still asleep. You were wandering through the halls towards the Great Hall when his jogging form caught your attention against the backdrop of the rising sun. 

Dressed in a fitted long-sleeved sports shirt and black jogging trousers, basically molded against his slim yet broad shoulders and firm biceps, always hidden beneath clothes two sizes too big. 

You had simply arched a single brow at the revelation before continuing on your way. 

He had grown confident because he was finally wearing clothes so obviously tailored to his shape now, enhancing what everyone thought to be nonexistent. And you knew his clothes were far too big because he had once offered his jacket to cover your legs during a partner project in potions and you were visibly shivering at the time. 

You had noticed how strangely long his sleeves had been, and how the bottom of his cloak always dragged against the floor and offered to show him a simple mending spell from one of your mother’s sewing books to shorten them swiftly. 

And that memory must have been the reason his gaze was quick to catch your own as they swept over the common room, lightening up in recognition and promptly ignoring the three girls right in front of you. 

Your own widened almost comically as you looked back down at the book, fingertips crumpling the thin page with a small prayer.

But a pair of white sneakers stopped in your vision as you tensed in anticipation. 

“Hey Y/N,” his voice was low, thank goodness, and still the soft-spoken way he always did. Speaking as if addressing an easily scared animal ready to run.  

You were known to be shy, yes. But not scared of people. Just a smidge of social anxiety. 

“Hey Jensen,” you glanced up, mouth drying up at having to talk to Hogwarts's newest catch of the year. Not the kind of public attention you wanted. “How was summer?”

But he was unaware or simply did not care, because his smile widened that you bothered asking him a question. “It was nice, thank you. How was yours?”

You shrugged easily, gently shutting the book with your thumb resting between the pages you stopped at. “Same old, nothing too exciting.”

“Just up your alley then, I assume?” his wink was good-natured, and you were surprised he was close to knowing one of your preferences. 

You supposed it made sense for another Ravenclaw to have the same amount of observational ability over you as you did to them. 

“Yeah, I guess,” You let yourself smile a bit less stiffly. “You look great by the way. Summer must have treated you well.”

Jensen blushed adorably quickly as you smothered a giggle. He was at least the same, easily flustered guy from before all the transformations. “T-thank you.” 

He wanted to say something more, but one of his friends called out to him by the door's entrance. “Ah, I should go. But it was good talking to you, I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Despite your confusion at his obvious hope to speak again, you nodded with a small wave as he walked away. 

The short, but awkward conversation was strange but not completely unwanted as you returned to your neglected book, pointedly ignoring the stares directed at you from the group of sixth years. 

+

“That doesn’t make any sense.” 

Taehyung groaned as Jimin from across him scrunched down at the written essay. Hovering quill being plucked from the air and circling around a sentence on his discussion on the negatives and positives of using Veritaserum in today’s age and society compared to the time during the first and second wizarding wars. 

“I’m just trying to fill out the page count at this point, mate. No need to be so picky.”

“You chose to sign up to N.E.W.T potions, and now you want to slack off?” His best friend scoffed, continuing to skim the content.

“Yeah, because I know I won't fail it doesn’t mean I have to do everything perfectly.” He smirked then. “Like another teacher’s pet, for example.”

“Yah, I’m not a teacher’s pet.”

“That’s what they always say.” Another heavy sigh from Taehyung as he leaned back on his chair. “I wish Joon was still here. He would have been much nicer than you.”

Their older Ravenclaw friend who had graduated just this summer was the smartest of their little group of Korean wizards in the Scottish highlands. Namjoon had been Head Boy in his year, as well as claiming the number one spot on the academic ladder as he left with a proud grin. 

Last they heard he was happy and dandy, moving into an apartment with his prankster of a Slytherin girlfriend in Diagon Alley while acing his apprenticeship in Advanced Alchemy at St. Mungos. 

“Namjoon hyung would have ripped out his hair sooner than you think. Especially when you’re involved.”

“Rude.” Taehyung huffed, taking in Jimin’s scrutiny of his essay with a twitching eye, which he knew wasn’t bad. “What’s even the problem?”

“You’re being too simple.” Jimin deadpanned, quill tapping almost pointedly at his discussion section. “You can’t just list negatives and positives like going to the food shop. Why is it negative? Why is it positive? Is it legally right, but morally wrong? You need details.”

Merlin, if he’d known NEWT essays were this tedious, he wouldn’t have signed up for them. 

“Besides,” Jimin continued. “Your second argument lacks credentials. You say it should be allowed to be used on criminals in severe cases, but have only proof of one instance of when it worked in the court’s favor. And that was over fifty years ago. You have to consider today's society where human rights are more on the forefront than ever before.”

Taehyung arched a brow at his friend. “Yeah, but it’s a magic potion that reveals the truth. Options muggles don’t even have in their world when convicting the guilty, so why shouldn’t we as wizards use what we have to our advantage?”

Jimin smirked. “Well muggles have technology, shouldn’t you know that as a half-blood? Their current tech goes far beyond what our magic can do in many areas, so how would you say a magic potion is more reliable than the newest muggle technology used by the FBI or military?”

“How the bloody hell do you even know what the FBI is?” Taehyung couldn’t help but gape at his friend.

Jimin shrugged. “I watch muggle shows. Very educational actually, father was fascinated by it.”

“Oh yeah? The show or the tv?”

Crickets could have started singing by the moment of silence between them. 

“...the tv.”

The moving form of someone about to pass, however, made Tae act impulsively as he called out. 

“Oi! Would you say the use of Veritaserum during trials against criminals is immoral?” 

He ignored the hissed shock of Jimin. “What the hell are you doing, Kim Taehyung?”

Taehyung simply looked at the stranger he managed to stop on their way, a Ravenclaw girl, obviously stunned and confused as he held your stare with a weird intensity. 

“Uh-uhm pardon?” Was all you managed to stutter out, two books held tightly against your chest as you stared down at the lounging lad before you, balancing the chair on its two hind legs without a problem. 

Oi? How awfully rude. 

His friend was hiding his face between his hands in exasperation, and you recognized him as Jimin Park. 

“But they’re like the really bad ones, you know. Voldemort-bad that is. And they refuse to say anything. Would you still say using Veritaserum at that moment is immoral and against their human rights?”

“I-I,” Your brain was whirring as you tried to find your footing in the absurd situation, hardly acknowledging the apologetic look Park sent your way as your mouth moved without thinking. 

“W-well if you mean the use of Veritaserum should be allowed in criminal trials to help uncover the truth to save innocent lives, I don’t see the problem. Criminals are criminals, and depending on their degree of severity there should be clauses for when Veritaserum should be allowed as a measure-” 

His mouth was starting to widen, but you weren’t done speaking. 

“-but it is not used for a reason, especially in this scenario. Veritaserum is unreliable, it only forces the person to tell their version of the truth, not the factual truth.” 

To your surprise, he actually looked interested in what you were saying. They both were. 

“What do you mean by their version?”

Oh! He wanted you to continue. 

“Meaning…if a person is mentally unstable or wholeheartedly believes that something is true then that's what they'll say. Besides, if said person is aware that they're going to be given the potion it's possible to mentally prepare or take precautions to try and throw off, or at least diminish, its effects. So a muggle polygraph test would be more efficient when you think of it.”

There was a stunned silence until Park slapped a firm hand on the table and in the other guy’s direction in an aggressive I-Told-You-So motion, a humorous sassy head motion following as he crossed his arms with a pointed look. 

Someone you now recognized as Taehyung Kim, a face far too well known in the Ravenclaw common room now and then to visit his friends and always drawing some kind of attention with a confident nature and grin as he waltzed inside after a successful riddle. Not to mention how easy on the eyes he was. 

He was no longer smiling, but his eyes were sparkling, or at least you thought so as he took you in silently, flicking to your house badge and to the nervous shuffle of your feet. 

“Hm, Ravenclaw indeed.” He said instead, lips quirking. “Thanks for that…?”

He was asking for your name. 

“Uh, Y/N.” You felt your blush starting to creep up on both of their attention. 

“Thanks for the help, Y/N!” Taehyung then grinned, that wide, charming smile that lit up his entire face. 

You mumbled a quick no problem before rushing away like Hungarian Horntail was on your feet. 

+

“Who was that?” Taehyung still mused to himself that evening as his dinner cooled down in front of him. His chin rested on the palm of his hand as he mindlessly stared at the pumpkin juice in his goblet. 

“Who was who?” Jeongguk arched a brow at the conflicted look upon his friend’s features and got no reply as he turned to Jimin instead. 

“A girl he was annoying in the library today.”

“Well, who?”

“He doesn’t know,” Jimin scoffed with a self-satisfied smirk. “She certainly knocked down his ego a peg or two. A Ravenclaw.”

“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” Jeongguk shook his head. “A girl Tae annoyed that put him in his place, could be any of them..”

“Maybe it was me,” a new voice chimed in as Lily Luna Potter pushed her way in between Jeongguk and Taehyung without care. “Or at least that sounds like me.”

Ever since taking her to the Yule Ball as Taehyung’s date last year, she had become a good friend to most of them, especially with her connection to Jimin’s girlfriend now that Namjoon, Hoseok, Yoongi and Seokjin all graduated, halving their usual seven man-group. 

Jeongguk was already complaining about how he’d be all alone next year and was making sure to make friends with others in fear of becoming a social outcast.

“But you’re not a Ravenclaw.” Taehyung was still present enough to follow along with the conversation. “And you’re far too mean.”

“Keep trying insulting me, Kim, and you’ll see why the Potters and Weasleys are so infamous for their havoc,” She flashed an innocent grin at him that was more reminiscent of a lions’ maw. 

“You mean besides being the offspring of The Chosen One?” 

“Hah Hah.”

“Anyways, she’s a Ravenclaw. About yey high, all wide eyes and stuttering but apparently smart, but not the bonkers kind of smart that all of you are known for.” Taehyung turned his serious stare onto his younger friend in wait. 

Jeongguk only stared back unamused. “Wow, what a flattering description. Thanks hyung.”

“No problem. Now do you know?”

Obviously seeing how important it was for his hyung to find this mysterious Ravenclaw person, only one name could come to mind with what he’s heard. “Well, did you get her name?”

Of course! How could he forget her bloody name?

Taehyung’s expression was sheepish as he replied. “Y/N.”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “There’s only one of her in Ravenclaw.”

“Y/N?” Lily mused over the name. “Haven’t heard of her, who is it?”

“She’s in 7th year. And to be honest, I don’t know anything about her. She’s there and sometimes she isn’t. Kind of just…around if you really look. She’s very shy though.” Jeongguk thought to himself for a second. “I haven’t actually seen her speak to anyone ever.”

“So an outcast,” Taehyung mused, just for Lily to slap his arm rather hard as he winced. 

“Don’t be rude!” She reprimanded with that familiar Weasley glare. “Not everyone can be as annoying as you.”

“Or obnoxious,” Jimin flittered in.

“Or loud.” 

“Or irritating.”

“That’s the same thing, you bloody wanker,” Taehyung reached across the table to try and whack at his same-aged friend, who dodged easily.

“Oh is it?” Jimin’s sharp eyes simply glinted before something else caught his eye and he jumped out of his seat and left with a wiggle of his fingers. 

It didn’t take any of them long to see it was his girlfriend who had caught his attention, as the guy bounded over and smothered her face in kisses as both left the hall with nauseatingly blinding grins. 

“Ugh, they make me sick sometimes,” Lily groaned, but there was genuine happiness there for her best friend having found love in someone as kind as Park Jimin. As sassy and smart mouthed he could be at times. Another charm, she supposed. 

“So what now? You’re in love or something?” Lily turned the conversation back on track. 

“Who said anything about love?” 

“By the way you keep talking about her, I assumed so.”

Taehyung shrugged, leaning back on his hands gripping the underside of the bench. “Just curious, is all.”

“About?” 

“How someone like her has managed to go under my radar.”

Lily’s warm hazel brown eyes narrowed, this time no lightheartedness blinking beneath them. “Don’t you dare go and play that poor girl, Kim Taehyung.” She had gotten into the habit of putting his last name first. “Not everyone looks at relationships as a game.”

Jeongguk wisely chose to remain silent. 

“What makes you think it’s a game for me?” His head tilted ever the slightest, taking in the redhead with no expression besides the normal aloofness he wore. 

“It always is.” Her response was sharp, and certainly with no regret before softening. “I’ve been there, remember?”

Taehyung had no words for that. 

He had to admit his fault there. 

Kim Taehyung had found the enigma of Lily Potter as some sort of chase last year, especially with the announcement of the Yule Ball returning to Hogwarts after nearly two decades. She was the only daughter of Harry Potter, a firecracker as bright as her hair and as fierce as her namesakes. A younger girl who had found his interest in her thrilling. And he had pursued her. Flirted with her, as innocent as it was and took her to the ball. Only to break her heart only two days after - or at least what little hope she had for them to become something more. 

He was lucky to only get off with a mild bat bogey hex and Lily found it in her to forgive him after a while and agreeing to become friends again. 

“I’m not going to hurt her.” Those words sounded heavier than he expected, but he held firm. “I promise.”

Lily Luna searched his gaze for a short moment  and sighed. “I really hope so, Tae. Truly.”

Yeah. He probably did the same. 

+

Jensen spoke to you again. 

Two weeks into the semester as you were walking from your Charms class to Transfiguration, he stopped you with a small wave. It only lasted a few moments, with both of you needing to make it to the next class. But you found it considerably easier and more relaxed this time around. 

Relaxed enough that you didn’t even notice your new seating partner until you had sat down. 

“So this is where you like it. I can see the appeal; in the middle, not too close and not too far.”

Your heart must have stopped for a single beat from the voice, let alone the unfamiliar sight of Taehyung Kim lounging the way he apparently always did on the neighboring seat on the right of you. 

“You…” Was your clever reply, but with a frown to rival that of the late Headmaster Severus Snape’s portrait mixed with a good amount of bewildered confusion. “Why are you here?”

“To learn, I hope.”

“Since…when?” 

Taehyung made a near constipated look, as if in serious thought. “Oof, tough questions you’re asking there. I assume since the semester started.”

You realized how foolish you were sounding, biting down on your tongue to stop talking and sliding further down on your chair in an embarrassed attempt to hide yourself from view. 

“So…Y/N, right?”

You dared a glance in his direction, giving a single nod. 

Taehyung grinned, seeming far too happy to know your name as you felt slightly suspicious of his behavior.

He reached out a hand. “I’m Kim Taehyung, or Taehyung Kim here, I suppose.”

You had manners enough to accept it, although gingerly and releasing it fairly quickly. “I remember who you are.”

“Honoured.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

His grin turned upside down, a frown of confusion taking its place. “Offend me?”

You shared that expression. “Isn’t that why you’re talking to me? About the Veritaserum thing?”

He looked unbothered if anything. 

“And what about it?”

“Did I ruin your argument?”

He chuckled in realization. “Not even close. You helped a lot, to be fair. I changed my core discussion and managed to score a perfect O.” He held up the shape with his thumb and index in front of one eye. 

“Oh.” Some of the tension eased from your shoulders. 

“Was even used as an example in front of the class. If anything, you just improved my academic reputation by tenfold.”

“You’re…welcome?” 

Potions had never been a strong forte of yours as much as you strived to excel in every subject. But you realized that quickly enough and was forced to admit defeat before 7th year came around, and therefore chose not to take it as an elective despite your higher end of an A in it. 

The discussion essays were your strength – the brewing being completely different. It was well-known knowledge that Slytherins – as stereotypical as it was,  held a superiority in its arts of precise cutting and stirring from their centuries of pureblood ancestry. 

Which is why it came as a surprise to hear that Taehyung Kim, Hufflepuff through and through, was among the top five of seventh years. 

You supposed it made sense when thinking of the people he hung around. Several Slytherins, including Jimin Park and the notoriously scary couple of Min and Greengrass, who had both graduated to your intense relief. 

You had found them scary individually, but when the news of their dating – or courting as purebloods called it – spread last year, that fear tripled whenever you were to come across them in the halls together. 

Identical don’t fuck with me auras and cold facades enough to freeze the Black Lake twice over. 

You made sure to stay out of their way. 

“Is there a reason you’re sitting here? You’ve never done it before.”

He leveled you with a side glance, hands folded behind the back of his head as he lounged back. “Are you always this suspicious of people wanting to speak to you?”

“I’m not suspicious,” You tried defending yourself, though failing. “It’s just weird.”

“Is it?”

“People never speak to me.” You expected the same uncomfortable pity to appear just as anyone else who bothered to spare you a moment and ask about the obvious absence of any friends by your side. 

You never meant to come across as pathetic. It was just a fact, nothing you grumbled over. But for them it always sounded like some heavy load ready to burst followed by a string of tears. 

Taehyung shrugged. “Well I’m speaking to you now. Do you mind?”

You were quick and honest in answering “No.”

His mouth quirked. "Good. I’ve decided I like you”

What sort of cliché line was that supposed to be?

Taking him in from top to bottom, you noted the loose way his tie was around the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, as well as the half-tucked-untucked way his clothes looked. 

It was disheveled, but in a careful, fashion forward way rather than rumpled. He made up for it with tastefully chosen accessories, such as a ring, bracelet and silver dainty necklace. 

His hair looked soft. Far softer than yours. A deep black and longer than most boys at school, reaching his ears with a deliberately chosen half middle part with several wavy strands covering his brows and tickling the top of his eyes. 

Eyes in such a dark brown color, you couldn’t help but compare them to a warm, fuzzy blanket with the way he was looking at you. 

You were quite frankly in danger of getting lost in them as you internally shook yourself out of it.

“That sounds awfully ominous.” 

“Ominous, endearing — it’s all a branch of interest in the end.”

A brow flicked up from your part. “It really isn’t.”

“Smart mouthed witch, aren’t you?” The easy look on his face said it was meant in jest. Not that you took offense to things easy.

“Comes with the Ravenclaw territory.” Your usual shyness had evaporated enough for you to snark in return. A new development from your end. 

Taehyung seemingly noticed the same thing, an understated sort of glee on his expression as he opened his mouth to reply but failed to do so as the professor strolled into the room with a greeting and everyone dutifully returned to their seats and faced the front. 

You glanced at him again carefully only to blush at the quick wink he threw you. 

Boys. 

+

The entire way from the last class you shared of the day — which was surprisingly many — to the entire length of the trek down to the Great Hall just in time for dinner. 

You said nothing, mostly only giving suspicious glances trying to figure out what he really wanted. He only strolled along with a lighthearted grin, often stopping in his path to hit off a chat with others.

Times at which you thought you’d finally lost him, only for him to come jogging up around the corner again. 

The strangest part was that he didn’t bother you. Or even speak. 

The strangeness of it all is what made you huff and stop abruptly in your path and seconds later you felt him almost skid to a halt in surprise, nearly running into you in the process. 

“Whoa.”

Turning around swiftly, your eyes narrowed up at him as Taehyung blinked. “What do you want?”

“What keeps making you think I want anything?”

“Because this–” Your hand flicked up and down along his form. “Is the true essence of someone wanting something.”

“I’m just trying to get to know you, love.”

“By stalking me?”

“Keeping you company,” he corrected with that same mischievous grin. 

“Without my permission?”

“I thought we were getting pretty close in class just now.”

“Listen-” You sighed heavily. “Whatever it is you’re trying to do, thank you, but no thank you. I’m all set with my friends.”

It was a lie, obviously. You didn’t have friends. Not really.  

But you were also very content with where you stood at the moment. Comfortable. 

You were a seventh year student with less than ten months left before graduation. You didn’t need any sudden complications to make the end of your life at Hogwarts any harder. 

And that included the persistent curiosity of one Taehyung Kim. 

“Do those friends perhaps include a very persistent Atkinson?”

The tip of your red ears were thankfully hidden by the tresses of your loose hair as you frowned. “If anyone’s persistent, it’s you, Kim.”

“How about a deal?”

“Pardon?” Your exasperation was hardly hidden. “We’re making deals now?”

“Give me a chance.” Taehyung seemed unbothered by your obvious annoyance. “I wanna get to know you.”

“...why?” 

“Why not?”

“Why me?”

Taehyung gave a hum in contemplation. “I can’t help but feel like this conversation already happened.”

“What I’m trying to say–” You kept your eye contact firm as his own glinted. “You don’t have to feel like you owe me anything for that one answer on the essay. I don’t need pity-friends.”

For once he looked careful in choosing his words. “What makes you think I'm trying to be a pity friend? Maybe I’m a secret admirer you never noticed.”

You barked out a sharp laugh. “Hah! You didn’t know of my existence until the library. Can you truly blame me for being suspicious?”

Taehyung huffed out a laugh, cheeks warming up as he scratched his head with a sheepish expression. “Fair enough, that was a bit over the top. So I repeat. How about that deal?”

“A deal about giving you a chance?” You repeated doubtfully. “As?”

“Fine I’m gonna be frank. Yes, I do feel like I owe you something after your help, but I also enjoyed who I spoke to as a person. So naturally, I’m interested in being your friend.”

You had run out of arguments and as much as you wanted to shoo him away, the genuinity in his words and expression were hard to push off as lies. 

Unless he was simply a fantastic actor, which you wouldn’t push past him. 

“Alright then.” 

Taehyung’s eyes widened.“Wait really?”

“I’ll…be your friend, I guess.” You mumbled almost in embarrassment at the strange sentence. Never in your life have you had someone argue so much for simply wanting to become a friend. 

How utterly bizarre.

But perhaps it was the sort of bizarreness you needed in your life. Not that you would admit it. 

“Stop being so shocked!” You huffed. “I’m not a mean person, you know.”

He was grinning. “That never crossed my mind.”

Shuffling your feet almost awkwardly as he continued to grin at you in silence, the trickle of students in the corridors were starting to thin down. Most of them had already arrived at the Great Hall for dinner. 

“What now then?”

Taehyung threw an arm around your shoulders, starting to pull you towards the Great Hall as you stumbled a few steps before managing to keep up with his long strides. 

“First things first as a new friend,” He ‘whispered’ with a smirk. “Introduce you to more friends!”

The absolute fear on your face must have shown, because he actually fucking cackled. Cackled. Like some bloody villain ready to sacrifice you to the wolves. 

Your anxiety could hardly keep up with him. 

Merlin, help me.

+

“Everyone, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet everyone,” Taehyung grinned at the four occupants somewhere in the middle of the Slytherin table sharing various degrees of amusement and anticipation. 

His arm was still around your tense shoulders as you tried to smile at them in return, but with your wide anxious eyes and stiff grin, you gave the picture of someone forcefully held against their will rather than pleasantries for the first time. 

And whether it was by the sight of Jimin Park rubbing the bridge of his nose, or Jeongguk shaking his head - they were probably as exhausted as you were by his antics.

It was Jimin’s girlfriend who saved the heavy awkwardness hanging in the air as she jumped up and grabbed your hand. 

“Hi Y/N, come sit next to me,” she chirped with a sweet voice as you followed, ending up in the middle of her and Taehyung on the bench. 

“Thanks,” You tried to sound unaffected, surrounded by so many strangers. 

“So what schemes has Tae gotten you into to end up here?” It was Jimin inquiring from the other side of his girlfriend as he peered around her to look at you with a small smile, not at all looking annoyed by your presence. Rather the situation you’ve been forced into. 

“Uhm, I don’t really know, to be honest,” You answered truthfully. 

“Hah!” Dark burnished orange hair and pretty, wide chocolate brown eyes were the next to keep your attention as you found yourself locked in the mischievous gaze of one Lily Potter. 

Oh my God, even Lily Potter was a part of this friend group. 

“Please don’t tell me he forced you, Y/N. If he did just give me a sign, I’ll curse his arse out for you.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty good at that,” You heard Tae mutter next to you with a shudder. 

Your lips twitched. 

“Thanks for the offer, I’ll put it to good use one day,” You promised and the younger girl grinned.

She was insanely pretty, you couldn’t help but notice. Or maybe it was just her confident personality that made her so attractive to everyone. No wonder either, she was the youngest child of war heroes, and her boyfriend was heir to the Malfoy heritage.

It was all over the Daily Prophet several times over the past year how Scorpius Malfoy was working day and night to change the dark past of his family reputation by working his way rapidly well up in the world of aurors, coming on top in the Auror Academy and beating records of those decades before him. There were rumors of Harry Potter himself considering choosing the young man as his new rookie partner in the field.

If you weren’t a Ravenclaw, you would have wondered why the man hadn’t chosen either of his two sons, who were both aurors - one already well into his career and the younger one being a starring pupil alongside Malfoy. But laws clearly stated that those with direct family ties were not allowed to work together in close quarters.

If only the law had known Scorpius Malfoy was a very likely candidate for the future son-in-law position at the Potter household. 

You would imagine if there were main characters in the world; then Lily Luna Potter was certainly one of them. And you were simply excited to have a first class seat to witness it rather than wanting to be in her place. 

You took another look around and noticed the one person left who had yet to speak. Jeongguk Jeon must have felt your curious gaze, because when he looked away from his plate of food and met yours he blushed alarmingly quickly, even for you, but offered a friendly smile nonetheless. 

He sat opposite of you, besides Lily. It was a very off balance order with only two people on one side of the bench and four on the other. But at this point Jimin had his girlfriend on his lap and they were giggling quietly together while still managing to eat, and Taehyung was your designated friend. 

“Hey Jeon.” It was the first time you’ve spoken to the underclassman, despite seeing him all the time in your shared common room and passing in the hallways. 

“You can call me Jeongguk,” He shrugged. 

“We call him Kookie.” Taehyung whispered beside you, not that it was much of a whisper as the boy whipped his gaze over with a glare. 

“You do not!” Jeongguk snapped, clearly annoyed but in the way a younger brother would be. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning to call you that.” You just met these people, there was no way you were planning to get on their nerves already. 

“So Y/N, what classes are you taking this year? Besides sharing Transfiguration with my wonderful self.”

You could hardly hold back the eye roll as Taehyung grinned. 

“A lot of the core classes. Charms, Transfiguration, Defense and Herbology, but I dropped potions from last year.”

“Really? Not planning to become an auror?” 

“Godric, no,” You chuckled. “I wouldn’t be able to handle the Academy, never mind catching dark wizards. I prefer my future career as something safer.”

“I feel you there.” Taehyung folded his hands behind his head. “I was considering working at the ministry somewhere, but haven’t decided which department yet.”

“A ministry worker?” You were honestly surprised. You expected something more eccentric from him. 

“Shocked?” He smirked in return. 

“A little yeah, I thought you were going to say dragon handler or something.”

He barked out a laugh. “I scream at the sight of reptiles, never mind a dragon. What about you?”

“I’m not sure.” You admitted. “I’ve got options in both the muggle and wizarding world, so I’m at a stand still.”

Both his brows were raised in surprise. “You’re considering leaving the wizarding world?”

“Not completely, just a little reprieve perhaps. I’ve read up on the muggle education system and going to universities.”

“Uni, huh.” Taehyung looked even more intrigued at this point, and you couldn’t fathom why. “Are you half-blood?”

“Pureblood.” It was a delight to see his face twist into more shock. It seems the only emotion you were able to give him. “Not all of us are bigoted and close minded, you know.” 

“I wasn’t–”

“Relax idiot, she’s obviously kidding,” Lily cut in with a scoff as you shared a laugh with her. “But that sounds fun, Y/N. One of my older cousins is going to a muggle uni right now, and she’s loving it.”

“It seems really fun,” You agreed. “I’ve always been interested in the muggle world. My parents often took us traveling when I was younger with only planes and public transport.”

“My dad too!” She gasped. “He was always dragging us on the tube in London for everything, wanting to make us independent for the future and not rely on magic. I can basically find my way anywhere now.”

“Oh my, I hate the rush hour!” You complained, suddenly full of vigor finding someone who knew what you were talking about. “I accidentally got stuck in it during the holiday and it was horrid. Never again.”

“Same! Luckily I had been warned, but had to eventually endure when I got a summer job last year,” Lily pouted. 

“You had a job?” You clapped a hand over your mouth at how you sounded, but she only waved off your concern. 

“I know; shocking. Another one of dad’s lessons, providing for ourselves and not through family members.”

“But why? He’s Harry Potter!”

“Exactly that,” Lily smirked. “Because he’s Harry Potter. His favorite quote to my brothers and I is ‘It’s my money, not yours. If you want something, go make your own.’ ”

“Wow, harsh.”

“He means well though,” she was quick to assure with a wave of her hand. “Dad used to spoil us rotten as children, since he never got to experience a privileged childhood. But the moment we got into our teens he was strict in teaching us more about responsibility.”

“She wasn’t even allowed to work at her uncle’s joke shop.” You had nearly forgotten Jimin was there, as his voice came from beside you. 

“Why?”

“Too familiar,” Lily rolled her eyes. “So I ended up with a café job in central London. It was a nightmare, but I‘m a professional at handling cranky middle aged women now.”

“What about you?” The deep rumble of Taehyung’s voice made you turn. “Have you ever worked in muggle England?”

“Never,” You shook your head almost bewildered at the thought. “Only for leisure but never work. My parents want me to focus on school. You?”

“I’m a part-time café victim too,” He grinned. “But in my hometown in South Korea for a summer when my parents dragged me back.”

“Dragged you back?” You flicked up a brow. “Is there a reason for it?”

“Let’s just say they weren’t too fond of the British drinking culture.”

You made a small noise of understanding, but forced yourself to bite your tongue. Because there were about five questions that you wanted to ask and absolutely none of them were probably appropriate to ask on a day like…whatever this was. 

Lily snorted, and would have elbowed Taehyung in the ribs if she wasn’t sitting on the other side of the table. “Your parents weren’t wrong. Half the blokes here treat weekends like a competitive sport.”

Taehyung’s grin turned lazy. “You’d know?”

Her grin in return was sharp in its delivery. “I worked in a café in central London, Kim. I’ve seen men come in at seven in the morning smelling like regret and old beer trying to flirt with a croissant.”

Jeongguk, bless him, choked on his pumpkin juice and you didn’t know whether to laugh or look at him with concern. Instead your hand moved to smooth your robe as if it had wrinkles that weren’t there. 

Jimin’s girlfriend laughed bright enough for everyone to attract a few head turns. She caught it and lowered her voice sheepishly as she turned to you. 

“What about you, Y/N?” she asked softly, like she was letting you into a private joke rather than putting you on display. “Where’d you travel?”

There was a pause. Not awkward exactly, if you could put it into words. 

You blinked at her and the table and the strange feeling of everyone looking at you with interest rather than a distracted politeness you were used to. 

“My parents like random places…I suppose,” You started off and heard the faint wobble in your own voice and hated it. “Spain once. Italy. My mum got obsessed with muggle museums over a summer, so we did Paris and Rome without magic. Which was…” You lifted your shoulders. “A lot of walking.”

“Paris without magic,” Lily repeated like a heroic feat. “Respect. Not even a stop at the French ministry?”

“Not once,” You shook your head. “It was mainly just me getting lost and pretending I wasn’t,” you admitted. And to your surprise, laughter bubbled up around you — all warm and genuine.

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he discovered a new species in the wild. “You’re funny.”

“I’m truthful,” you corrected automatically. Because accepting a compliment was never a strength of yours without deflecting. 

He leaned closer however, resting his chin on his palm. “Same thing.”

“It really isn’t.”

“It is when it comes out of your mouth.”

You opened your mouth to argue, then shut it. Because the last thing you needed was Taehyung Kim collecting small facts about you like shiny stones in his pocket.

Jimin’s girlfriend, thank Merlin, nudged your elbow. “Do you like chess?”

You blinked at the change of subject.. “Yeah?”

Jimin’s face lit up like a child on Christmas. “Finally. Someone with taste.”

Taehyung groaned. “Oh no. You’ve just fed him.”

Jeongguk’s mouth twitched into something like a smile. “He gets insufferable about chess.”

“I do not get insufferable,” Jimin said, offended.

Lily raised her brows. “You called my cousin an intellectual peasant because he didn’t know a queen’s gambit.”

“He was an intellectual peasant.”

You startled again, but this time it turned into a laugh before you could stop it. A real one. 

And you found yourself not minding this feeling even a little bit. 

By the time dinner ended, you’d been asked questions that weren’t traps. You’d been teased in a way that didn’t sting, and you’d been included without the exhausting pressure of having to perform gratitude for the inclusion. 

But still, when you stood up — habits made itself known. 

“I should go,” you said, a little too quickly. “I have… reading.”

“Mhm, must be a lot two weeks in already," Lily said knowingly, and her eyes softened. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N.”

Jimin’s girlfriend squeezed your hand before you could pull away. “Come sit with us again tomorrow, yeah?”

You hesitated. 

“Okay,” you heard yourself say anyways

+

The next day, you sat with them again

And the next. 

It didn’t happen suddenly. But slowly, like a leak of warmth into places you hadn’t even realized were cold. It all started with Jimin’s girlfriend waving you over automatically, like your seat had always been there. 

And continued with Lily throwing a piece of parchment at your head from a table behind whilst you were studying in the library. “You’re glaring at your notes like they owe you money,” she said.

Even with Jeongguk quietly sliding you an extra quill when he noticed yours had snapped mid-essay in the common room, not meeting your eyes. 

And then there was Taehyung, doing the most Taehyung things imaginable; somehow managing to insert himself into your orbit like a comet. 

By winter and only a few weeks away from Christmas, your name no longer confused people. It was said easily now, casually even. Tossed across tables and corridors like it always belonged. 

“Y/N, have you seen my notes?”

“Y/N, sit here.”

“Y/N, settle this argument before Jimin combusts.”

You still liked the corners, the small windows and quiet tables tucked away and chairs pulled just a bit away from the center. But you were no longer alone in them. 

Sometimes Taehyung would drop into the seat across from you without asking, parchment and quill abandoned somewhere between intention and distraction. He wouldn’t speak right away. Neither would you.

He learned the way you studied too — surprisingly more astute than you took him to be. How you underlined sparingly, how you paused before writing, eyes unfocused and thoughts clearly somewhere else. 

He also stopped interrupting those moments.

You noticed the way he fidgeted when restless. Especially when he began to twist the rings. Or when the chair tipped back just enough to irritate professors. Even a hum under his breath when something amused him.

But that wasn’t the only change; Jensen became a surprising constant too. 

He started walking you to meals. Sat with you in the common room, knees angled toward you even when his book lay forgotten. He remembered things with careful precision. From your favorite tea, to which subject drained you the most. And that you preferred quiet Hogsmeade weekends over crowded ones.

You didn’t notice the way his hand lingered when passing you a quill. Or how his eyes softened when you laughed. Or how his voice dipped when he said your name.

But Taehyung did. And he said nothing. 

Because when Jensen sat beside you, Taehyung simply chose the seat across. When Jensen walked you back to Ravenclaw tower, Taehyung peeled off with a wave and a joke. 

And when his shoulder brushed yours, Taehyung looked away.

It was a good thing, he told himself. 

You looked comfortable. You laughed more now. Spoke without bracing yourself first. He had watched it happen slowly, like someone tending a fire and knowing better than to throw water on it.

Whatever this thing was with Atkinson, it seemed good for you.

+

There were moments. 

Small ones. Maybe tipping into dangerous territory. 

Such as the afternoon autumn rain trapping you under a stone archway after your Charms class, laughter echoing as you waited it out. Taehyung had shrugged off his jacket and held it above both your heads, standing a bit too close, his breath warm against your temple. 

For a second, neither of you had moved. 

Then you stepped back first, apologizing out of habit. 

He smiled and said nothing. 

Or the night you fell asleep in the common room, a book slipping from your grasp. You woke to a blanket draped over your shoulders and Taehyung sitting on the floor nearby, back against the couch talking to Jeongguk, pretending he hadn’t noticed you stir.

You were sure that blanket had been on another chair across the room. 

Taehyung had never been particularly good at timing. 

But even he could tell when something didn’t belong to him.

+

Christmas passed in a blur of twinkling lights, a layer of snow and laughter. And before you knew it, spring crept in with lighter mornings and warmer evenings. 

Revision season brought exhaustion and shared misery. 

You sprawled across library tables with Lily, muttering curses at Arithmancy. Jimin quizzed you mercilessly and then praised you like he’d trained you himself. Jeongguk slipped you chocolate when you looked like you might cry over Transfiguration theory.

Taehyung started walking you back after late study sessions without comment, matching your pace exactly. Sometimes Jensen joined. Sometimes he didn’t.

On nights when it was just the two of you, the conversation drifted easily.

“What do you think you’ll miss most?” he asked once, as you descended a staircase dusted with moonlight.

You didn’t answer right away.

“The quiet,” you said eventually. “The kind that only exists here.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“What about you, Tae?” You had come to call him by his nickname comfortably. 

He shrugged. “Probably the food.”

He didn’t say your name. He kept his hands in his pockets and his thoughts to himself as you snorted and rolled your eyes. 

+

The year thinned toward its end, but not everyone was leaving.

That was the strange thing about seventh year. It felt final, heavy with endings, yet still tethered to unfinished threads.

You, Taehyung, Jimin, his girlfriend, and Jensen moved through the months with the shared awareness that time was closing in. Essays mattered more. Conversations lingered longer. There was an unspoken pressure to decide who you were becoming.

Lily and Jeongguk hovered at the edges of that gravity.

Lily complained loudly about OWL prep while you and Jimin exchanged knowing looks over breakfast. Jeongguk sulked whenever graduation plans came up, as if sheer irritation could delay time itself.

“You’re all abandoning us,” he muttered one evening, poking at his food.

“You’ll survive,” Taehyung said easily. “Barely.”

Jeongguk scowled. “Traitor.”

But there was affection there. A sense that even as the group shifted, something solid had already formed.

+

Graduation arrived with a strange feeling. 

The achingly quiet settled into your chest the moment you blinked open your eyes that morning and realized there were no more classes to attend. No essays to finish. No timetables to follow, and no excuse to pretend this was just another day. 

You lay in bed longer than usual, clutching at your comforter and staring up at the familiar ceiling of your four-poster bed, counting the hairline cracks you’d memorized over seven years.

Someone down the hall laughed. Someone else slammed a trunk shut. The whole castle sounded restless. 

You had done everything slowly that morning. 

Folding away the last of your clothes you hadn’t bothered doing from the night before, going through books that you wouldn’t need anymore and smoothing down your graduation robe. 

The Great Hall was already filling when you arrived, sunlight pouring through enchanted windows, banners hanging proudly overhead. The noise pressed in on you immediately. Cheers and voices belonging to parents calling out names like spells — all sitting in the back with families to the graduating students. 

The 7th years were sitting in the front separated into houses and you waved at your friends until you found your place next to Jensen, who had grinned at your arrival. 

The ceremony blurred in places. When your name was called, your heart stuttered, but you heard the familiar cheers. The voices of your parents and friends when you accepted the rolled up diploma. 

When you returned to your seat, you noticed Lily was on her feet, clapping like her life depended on it among the underclassmen.

You swallowed. So this was what leaving home looked like.

+

Afterward, the crowd gravitated towards the courtyard for last goodbyes with friends and families before the 7th years would be sent across the Black Lake in boats as a last farewell to commence their journey ending at Hogwarts — in the same way they had all arrived seven years ago. 

You stood between your parents, grinning and happy but feeling heavy all the same. They were catching up with old school friends as your name was called out from afar. 

Jimin’s girlfriend pulled you into a hug next, fierce and warm. “You’re going to be amazing,” she said like it was a certainty, not encouragement.

Jimin followed, brief but solid. “Don’t forget us when you become terrifyingly successful.”

“As if,” you scoffed, voice thick.

Lily threw herself at you without warning, arms tight around your shoulders. “You better write,” she ordered, eyes shiny. “Or I’ll hunt you down.”

No part of yourself could stop the sniffle as you returned it. “Wouldn’t dare, Potter.”

Jeongguk hovered, then hugged you too, awkward and earnest. “It won’t be the same without you.”

Your throat closed around the words you wanted to say.

Taehyung waited. He always did.

When the others drifted away, when the noise dulled just enough to make space for something quieter, he stepped forward.

“Congratulations,” he said.

You laughed softly. “You too. It doesn’t feel real.”

He smiled. “Yeah. It kind of doesn't.”

So you hugged him before you could think better of it. 

It was instinct. Muscle memory built over a year of shared space and quiet understanding — your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you breathed in his scent. 

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Then his arms came around you, careful, grounding, like he was memorizing the shape of you without letting himself linger too long. One of his large hands cupped the back of your neck like a steadfast shield. 

“Thank you,” you murmured into his shoulder.

“...For what?”

“For becoming my friend.”

“It wasn’t all me,” he murmured. “You just needed a little push.” 

You grinned into his shirt without realizing it. As you pulled back, searching his face and trying to read the things he wasn’t saying. 

Your chest ached with the weight of everything you didn’t know how to ask or say.

“I’m really glad I met you,” you said instead.

He nodded, brown eyes warm. “Me too.”

There were a thousand other words hovering between you.

Not now, you both thought. 

⋆ ─── ⋆ Ten years later: ⋆ ─── ⋆

The new lounge bar in Diagon Alley smelled exactly like it looked. 

Aged whiskey with the hints of citrus from freshly cut peels, warm amber light spilling from hanging lanterns catching on dark wood and polished leather, turning the room into something hushed with Jazz music playing from floating instruments in the corner. The deep leather seats curved into booths around small tables, gleaming new but made to look like it’s been aged by time. 

It reminded Taehyung of a speakeasy he had visited once in midtown Manhattan for one of his magazine campaigns.

As well as the fact he’d barely made it three steps before someone called out, “Oi! There he is!”

He winced and smiled at the same time, but there was enough noise in the bar to drown out the voices of his clearly tipsy friends. 

“Subtle,” he muttered, shrugging out of his coat as Hoseok was the first to reach him, arms wrapping around him with zero restraint.

“You’re late,” Hoseok said into his shoulder, grin audible.

“I’m on time,” he corrected. “Don’t blame me for starting the party early.”

“Same thing,” Seokjin chimed in from the table, already halfway through a drink. “Sit. You look too expensive to be standing.”

Yoongi lifted his glass in a quiet greeting, eyes sharp and knowing as ever. Namjoon nodded, fond and Jimin was already half out of his seat pulling Taehyung into another hug like he hadn’t seen him on a screen three nights ago.

Jeongguk stared at him for a second too long before smirking. “You look stupidly expensive, hyung.”

He had tried to dress relatively under the radar, actually. The black henley and beige dress pants felt normal to him. 

“Thanks,” Taehyung said dryly. “You got more ink?”

He slid into the empty seat and someone shoved a drink at him without asking. Whiskey in a pristine crystal glass. Not his favorite, but he wasn’t one to complain today. 

Jeongguk shrugged before rolling his shoulder in a stretch, bicep flexing almost obnoxiously by the motion. “Eh, felt like something new.”

All of them nearly simultaneously rolled their eyes. 

Jeongguk had gone through several transformations in the years since their Hogwarts days; growing bigger than all of them, as well as an entire sleeve of tattoos that now stretched further in towards one side of his chest. 

“Did you come from a shoot?” Jimin asked him, the only one around this table to see him frequently enough to notice the subtle signs of styling on his features. 

“Morning one,” Taehyung nodded. 

Out of all seven of them, no one had been surprised when Taehyung declared he had been interested in dipping his toes into the muggle fashion world. He had always been vocal about his hobbies and interests around them — fast forward ten years, and he’s made a name for himself around the world, and somewhere in the midst also started dabbling in music with a few releases. 

He had always been the one to fit into the public eye the most. 

“So,” Seokjin leaned back, a light flush already starting at the base of his neck. “How long are you gracing us this time? A night? Two?”

He smirked. “Long enough to survive the hangover after the wedding.”

“Riiight,” Namjoon nodded at the reminder. “Nearly forgot Potter and Malfoy were tying the knot.”

“Wedding of the century, if you ask me,” Yoongi snorted, fingers tracing the rim of his glass absently. 

“Are you going, hyung?” Hoseok asked him. 

“I’m married to a Greengrass. That’s basically family with the Malfoys, so yes.”

“So what, it’s just us three not invited?” Seokjin pouted and pointed out the three of them, not that Namjoon and Hoseok looked bothered by the fact. 

“You don’t even know her that well, hyung.” Jimin shook his head exasperated. “Lily has always been selective. Besides her big family and us as friends, I think most of the guests are from Malfoy’s side.”

“Oh, everyone’s coming?” It was thrown out lightly from Taehyung’s part. A filler question if anything. 

Jimin didn’t look up from his drink. “Yeah. I mean. You, me, Kook. Family. A couple of her Auror friends. Ministry people. I think her bridesmaids are all cousins.”

Taehyung nodded, “Mhm.”

Then, like an afterthought, Jimin added, “Don’t know about Y/N though.”

His finger stopped the tracing on the edge of the table. He blinked once, and slowly. Like processing an unfamiliar word. “Yeah?”

Jimin shrugged, still unaware of the effect her name had made. “Lily was the last one who had contact with her, I think. They wrote on and off a few months ago. Dunno if that’s still a thing.”

“Oh,” Taehyung said, making sure it was neutral sounding. Like he didn’t really care. But it obviously had the opposite effect. 

Because Yoongi’s eyes flicked up for half a second to meet his, then back down to  the table.

Jeongguk leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Taehyung asked, too quickly.

“…that she’s kind of famous?”

“I’ve heard rumors, yes.”

“What is she famous for?” Namjoon asked, the only one seemingly out of the loop.

Jimin’s mouth twitched. “Muggle-famous. Books. A lot of them.”

Seokjin perked up. “Romance, right?”

“Yes!” Jimin snapped his fingers. “That’s it. Romance novels. Bloody everywhere. My girlfriend reads them.”

Jeongguk grinned. “Mine too.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Someone asked. 

“Well, ex.” This kid. 

Taehyung stared at his drink. Romance. The irony. “That’s… good for her,” he said finally, because that was the correct thing to say. 

Hoseok nodded enthusiastically. “She’s doing really well. Travels a lot, too. Always somewhere new on social media. Italy last month, I think?”

“Spain before that,” Jeongguk added. “And New York. She posted a picture with an aesthetic coffee.”

Jimin laughed. “She looks happy.”

“Do you two just happen to be her stalkers or something?” Yoongi arched his brow at Hoseok and Jeongguk. 

Taehyung pictured it without meaning to. Her name on a spine; on a cover, in someone’s hands on a train, in a café, in bed before sleep. Her words traveling where she once said she might.

“Lily mentioned maybe inviting her,” Jimin went on. “But she didn’t want to pressure her. Y/N’s… got her own thing going.”

Taehyung leaned back again, the motion controlled, practiced. “Makes sense.”

Jimin kept talking.

About deadlines and fittings for dress robes, about how Lily had banned certain colours, about how Scorpius was apparently being unreasonably calm about the whole thing. The conversation flowed around the table like it always did, familiar and easy.

Taehyung nodded in the right places; smiling, humming, clinking their glasses when one of the guys got a bit excited but remained relatively calm most of the night. The others didn’t find it suspicious, probably chalking it down to exhaustion from work. 

He had known, actually. 

Perhaps a bit too much. 

He had known the first time your name appeared in a bookshop window in Soho when he walked past, serif font clean and understated, stacked in a display meant to look effortless. He’d stopped walking without realizing it, body reacting before thought ever caught up.

He’d reacted the first time one of his stylists mentioned a novel she “couldn’t put down” on a flight to Milan, holding up a dog-eared paperback pulled from her bag and the same name caught his eyes in the mirror he was sitting in front. 

He bought most of the books too. Physical copies and hardbacks, to support where he could. 

But he never found the courage to follow you online. 

“So,” Seokjin said, jolting him gently back into the moment. “You’re quiet though.”

Taehyung glanced up, sipping from his glass and expression easy. “Am I?”

“Yes,” Jeongguk said. “You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you pretend you’re not thinking about something,” Yoongi replied flatly.

Taehyung huffed a quiet laugh. “You give me too much credit.”

Yoongi met his gaze for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, then looked away. 

Ten years later, and he still knew better than to reach for something that had learned how to stand on its own. 

If you came to the wedding, he would smile. 

Maybe even offer a hug if you were up for it. 

Yeah, he could totally handle that. 

+

You nearly walked past the alley that led down to the joke shop.

Diagon Alley was louder than you remembered — all colours and movement mixed with overlapping voices and magic buzzing like a second heartbeat. It was loud and busy, but not overly chaotic. 

Hogwarts had just started its new semester two weeks ago, so the crowd was missing students and their families scrambling for last minute essentials, and you were grateful for that. 

You adjusted the strap of your bag and slowed a bit, letting the crowd move around rather than through you. 

You’d barely taken a step when your eyes flickered, briefly, to a darkened lounge tucked off the main stretch. Warm light glowed behind tall windows, inviting in the abstract way places like that always did. 

“That’s new,” you muttered to yourself 

The smell shifted as you reached the joke shop; a wave of sweet sugar, smoke and something sharp and bright but comforting nonetheless. 

Weasley Wizard Wheezes announced itself loudly, its sign creaking overhead, enchanted displays spinning in a riot of colour. The bell chimed the moment you pushed inside, noise crashing over in the best possible way.

You hadn’t been here in years, memories of your school days rushing by. 

“Y/N!” Lily’s voice rang out clearly from somewhere between a display of Extendable Ears and a stack of fireworks that looked suspiciously unstable. “You’re finally here!”

You laughed, the sound easy and unguarded. “I was on time, wasn’t I?”

“You’re never on time,” Lily countered, appearing with her hair tied back and sleeves rolled up, looking exactly like someone who’d grown into herself. There was a happy flush to her cheeks and her hair was longer in soft waves from what you remember.  “You look unfairly well-rested.”

“I flew in this morning,” you protested lightly as she pulled you into a fierce hug without warning. “I’m surviving on caffeine and stubbornness, if that makes sense.”

Lily grinned, stepping back to look at you properly. “Still living life traveling around the world, huh?”

“And you?” You shot back teasingly. “I doubt being a lead healer on your ward at St. Mungos is giving you much rest.”

A gleaming emerald ring on a sleek silver band encrusted by smaller, sparkling diamonds shone on her ring finger whenever the light caught it.

She sighed. “Yeah, but luckily with the wedding coming up I’ve been able to request some time off.”

She guided you deeper into the shop, magic humming around you. 

“Why are you even here?” You peered closer at a stand of pink bottles as small hearts popped around it with kissing noises.

 Fascinating. Must be their new brand of love potions. 

“Blame Uncle Ron. He swore they had ‘useful decorative bits’ if I needed anything for the wedding. Which, translated, means half of it might explode and the other half will insult the guests.”

“Perfect,” You deadpanned. “Very on brand for Weasleys.”

Lily was holding a stack of small enchanted gift bags, two floating lazily beside her. “These are actually kind of cute though. Look, they change colour depending on who’s holding them.”

You couldn’t help but smile, watching her fuss over details with the same fierce focus she’d always had. “You’re really doing this.”

“I am,” Lily said, softer now. Then she glanced up, eyes bright. “And you’re here.”

That landed heavier than Y/N expected. You shrugged lightly, masking it. “You asked.”

“I did,” Lily agreed. “And I’m glad you came. Thank you.”

Somewhere deeper in the shop, something let out a loud bang followed by a distant, enthusiastic cheer that could only belong to Ron Weasley. 

“Munchkin! Come look at this, I swear this is perfect for the wedding fireworks!”

Lily rolled her eyes fondly before calling back. “Uncle Ron, mum said no last minute fireworks that haven’t been tested at least three times!”

“He’s excited,” You noted with a grin, leaning against the shelf beside you. 

“They all are,” Lily shook her head. “I’m the youngest in the family so they’re all a bit dramatic about it. Dad has cried at least three times just the last week.”

“And you? How do you feel?”

“Can you ask me again on the wedding day?” She huffed, tightening the ponytail briefly. “I’m a bit too stressed at the moment to think.”

So being the good friend that you were, you looped your arm around her elbow and grabbed another handful of the giftbags. “Then how about we finish bagging these up and grab some food? I’m famished.”

Her brown eyes glittered. “Are we having drinks?”

You winked. “Anything for the bride-to-be.”

+

The restaurant Lily chose was tucked away from the main street, a few shops over from the joke shop, the kind you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. It was getting dark outside, the entire space being lit up by warm and enchanted candle light on the tables and floating against the ceiling — reminiscent of their Hogwarts days.

But other than that it was the most opulent restaurant you’d seen lately, especially for Diagon Alley. A domed ceiling rich with ornate plasterwork and blue-and-gold detailing. Chandeliers that hung like constellations besides the candlelight, their warm light pooling over marble-topped tables and leather banquettes in shades of rust, caramel, and moss.  

People were sitting in quiet pockets. Some leaning into conversations, others curling inward with drinks and phones, giving the room a hushed, cultivated hum rather than a buzz. 

You slid into the chair opposite of her, a table for two tucked against the wall and window out towards the street. 

“This,” you sighed, glancing around impressed, “was an excellent decision.”

Lily smirked as she picked up the drinks menu, familiar with the place. “I love this place. I usually go here for drinks with my female cousins.”

You picked a sharing menu of their best sellers in smaller portions, as well as drinks; a classic margarita for Lily and a mojito for yourself. 

“So,” Lily said once the drinks arrived and you were alone again, folding her hands together on the table. “How long are you in London for?”

“A week,” you replied. “Possibly longer. My parents have been missing me lately.”

“Always moving,” she smiled fondly.

“Don’t make it sound like a bad thing,” You flicked up a brow, leaning back against the chair. 

“It’s not,” She chuckled. “Just…very you.”

The food arrived not long after, and so did the flow of conversation. Catching up with each other’s lives; work, travel, friends. The strange limbo of you being recognized but not known. About Lily’s hospital shifts, her wedding dress shopping and how surreal it felt to be planning a future rather than just talking about it. 

“At least Scorpius is calm,” she said, rolling her eyes while chewing on a chip. “Suspiciously so.”

“If one of you is panicking, shouldn’t at least one keep calm?” You countered. 

She giggled in agreement, taking a sip of her drink before studying you over the rim of her glass. 

And there it was. That look. 

You sighed. “What?”

Lily smiled innocently. “Nothing.”

“That’s never true, and you know it.”

She didn’t deny. Instead she tilted her head. “What happened between you and Atkinson?”

You blinked and then huffed out a quiet laugh. “Wow. Straight to it.”

“You dated for three years,” Lily said. “And I got like one update. I feel entitled.”

“Do you now?”

“And that I’m getting married tomorrow. Bride privileges, if you will.”

Your lips twitched but answered nonetheless.“It was two years and seven months, actually,” you corrected. “After Hogwarts. We even lived together for a bit.”

“And?” She prompted.

You shrugged, honest. “And then we didn’t.”

A frown. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“No dramatic breakup?” she pressed. “No betrayal? No emotionally devastating scene in the rain?”

You snorted. “No, Lils. We just stopped fitting. He wanted to settle down, have kids and I wanted to travel. We realised we were holding on out of habit more than anything.”

Lily considered that. “You loved him though?”

“I did,” you agreed without hesitation. “In the way you love someone who’s good to you. He…was safe and familiar.”

“But isn’t that good?”

“I don’t know,” You admitted with a shrug. “It just didn’t feel right to hold on. We’re still on good terms though. He just moved in with his long-term girlfriend if I’m not wrong.”

There was a pause before she leaned forward again, elbows on the table and eyes sharp. “One more question; what happened between you and Tae?”

Someone had been holding back. 

You chose your words carefully. “Nothing happened, if that’s what you mean.”

“Y/N…are you going to tell me that during your entire 7th year, you didn’t have an inkling of feeling towards him?” 

“H-he was a good friend,” curse yourself for stuttering before you relented. “Besides, what's the point of being hung up on it? It’s been years.”

“Ten years is a long time,” Lily said slowly. 

“Exactly,” you nodded. “Whatever my feelings were, it belongs to the past.”

“You don’t sound sad about it.”

“I’m not,” you shrugged. “I’m realistic.”

Her shoulders sagged. “But don’t you think—”

“He doesn’t,” You cut in gently. “If he ever had those feelings, they’re long gone. He’s got a whole new life right now, a very visible one too.”

 Lily watched you for a long moment, then sighed. “You know it’s not too late, right? For anything.”

You stared at her, half incredulous and half amused. “What, you just want me to waltz up to him and confess?”

She snorted into her drink, shoulders shaking. “I mean… I think it would work, to be fair.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Absolutely not.”

“Coward,” she said fondly.

“Real,” you corrected. “This isn’t one of my books. Real people don’t operate on dramatic timing.”

“Everyone could need some drama in their life.”

“I know better than anyone that it only works on paper,” you shot back. “Real life is messier.”

Lily opened her mouth, then closed it. Tried again. “He’s coming to the wedding.”

Your fingers stilled around your glass. Just briefly.

Then you smiled, controlled. “I expected nothing less.”

Silence settled between you, heavier now but not uncomfortable. Finally, Lily lifted her glass in surrender. “Alright. I won’t push.”

“Hurray.”

“But,” she added immediately, eyes gleaming, “I will observe.”

You groaned, smiling despite yourself. “You are a menace, Lily Potter.”

+

Taehyung stepped leisurely out of the bar after the rest of the guys, the night air hitting his face sharp enough to sober him just a fraction. He hadn’t drunk a lot, just enough to warm him up and make the world feel a little too crisp around the edges. 

In front of him, Seokjin was mid-sentence, arms flung wide like he was delivering a speech to an audience that didn’t exist.

Namjoon laughed softly, one hand steadying Hoseok as he nearly missed a step. “We should probably split before Jin hyung convinces himself he needs another drink.”

“Or Hoseok falls,” Yoongi added. 

“Rude,” Hoseok protested, grinning anyway. “I’m perfectly functional.”

Taehyung exchanged a look with Jimin over Hoseok’s shoulder.

Jimin smirked. “He says that every time.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung replied. “Right before he trips.”

As if on cue, Hoseok stumbled, catching himself on Namjoon with a laugh.

“See?” Jimin said. “Predictable.”

They reached the junction where the alley widened, lantern light thinning as the city opened up around them. 

Namjoon stopped first. “We’re heading back,” he said, nodding toward Seokjin, Hoseok and Yoongi. “Early morning tomorrow.”

“Traitors,” Jeongguk said lightly.

Seokjin pointed at him. “You’ll thank me when you’re not dying next time, maknae.”

“Doubtful.”

They exchanged quick goodbyes, easy and familiar. A few shoulder claps and a mock bow from Seokjin. Yoongi’s brief nod before disappearing down the darker stretch of the alley with the others.

The noise dropped immediately after, leaving only the three of them now.

Jeongguk shoved his hands into his coat pockets, rocking slightly on his heels. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Jimin said.

“It’s a condition.”

Taehyung hummed noncommittally, gaze drifting without intention. And then it stopped, just fixed at one place. 

Further down the alley, near the glow spilling out of a restaurant doorway, Lily stood laughing. The sound carried and was bright and familiar even at a distance.

But she wasn’t alone. 

The woman beside her was turned slightly away catching the light for just a second too long. Her posture was relaxed and unhurried. The way she shifted her weight felt painfully recognizable.

Taehyung’s breath stalled.

The alcohol in his system didn’t blur the moment. If anything, it sharpened it. 

It was you.

You laughed at something Lily said, head tipping back briefly before you stepped closer, hugging her tightly. 

“Hey,” Jeongguk said beside him, oblivious. “Are you listening?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

He watched as you and Lily slowed, conversation easing into something quieter as the night settled around you. 

His chest tightened, not painfully but something strangely uncomfortable nonetheless. Just enough to remind him he was still very much alive.

You turned first, the crowd taking you easily, your figure slipping into the darker stretch of the street that led away from Diagon Alley. 

“Tae?”

Jimin’s voice cut through the fog.

Taehyung blinked, forcing himself to breathe again. “What?”

“You okay?” Jimin asked, eyes narrowing slightly. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Before he could answer, Lily peeled away from the direction you’d gone and headed toward them, her steps light, expression easy.

“Oh, hi!” she greeted brightly, like this was the most ordinary meeting in the world. “Don’t tell me you lads are out on a bender the day before my wedding.”

“Says the bride-to-be? Your cheeks are red,” Jimin shot back. 

“What are you doing out? Shouldn’t you be stressed about wedding decorations or something?” Jeongguk smirked. 

“That’s where a big family comes in handy. So keep talking and I’ll send the auror’s office on your arse.”

“That’s an abuse of power, you know.”

“Oh shut it, Jeon.”

Jeongguk’s response was a cheeky wink. 

But Taehyung’s gaze continued staying fixed over her shoulder and Lily followed it as her smile softened instantly.

“She just left,” she said gently. Then, quieter, meant only for him, “You just missed her.”

Something settled in his chest. Regret?

He inhaled slowly, then let a smile curve into place, easy and practiced. “Ah,” he said lightly. “That’s a shame.”

If Lily noticed how his eyes had gone soft, how they lingered a moment too long on empty space, she didn’t comment. She only nodded, like this confirmed something she’d already suspected.

Jeongguk blinked between them. “Wait. Who?”

“Y/N,” Lily said simply.

Jimin’s expression shifted instantly. “She’s here already?”

“Flew in this morning,” Lily replied. “We had dinner.”

Taehyung finally looked at her then. “Hope it was good.”

“It was,” Lily said, watching him carefully. “She’s doing well.”

“That’s good.”

They reached the wider stretch of the alley where the lantern light thinned and the night opened up. Lily slowed, glancing briefly back the way she’d come, toward the darker street where you’d disappeared minutes ago.

“She’s staying near the river,” Lily said casually. “Only in town a few days. Wedding, then she’s probably off again.”

Taehyung didn’t ask where. Or when.

“Sounds like her,” he said quietly.

Lily looked at him properly then. Not probing. Just noting. She nodded once.

They lingered at the junction longer than necessary, the way people do when the night has been good and no one wants to be the first to leave.

Jimin pulled Lily into a hug without warning as she squeaked and playfully shoving him away.

“One day,” he said. “Then you’re officially not our problem anymore.”

“You’ll never be rid of me,” she replied sweetly.

Jeongguk hugged her next, awkward but earnest — his body almost covering her entirely by the mere size difference.  “Don’t disappear on us.”

She rolled her eyes, patting his back. “I’m marrying a Malfoy, not moving to the moon.”

Taehyung was last. She stepped into his space easily, arms looping around him like she’d done a hundred times before. He hugged her back just as naturally.

“Thank you for coming back,” she said quietly.

He didn’t pretend not to understand. “You didn’t really give me a choice.”

She smiled against his shoulder. “I knew you’d come.”

When she pulled back, her eyes flicked once more down the street, saying nothing. Just gave him a look that said tomorrow without ever speaking it aloud.

Then she stepped away.

“Get some sleep,” she ordered lightly. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow”

No doubt about that one.

+

You thought you were used to a certain crowd from doing what you loved. 

The life of an author often needed you to travel long distances for promotions, meeting certain people already well known and established. Especially when you attended large conventions with other famous people. 

But this…this felt like a moment out of a history book you were thrown into unceremoniously. 

There was the security to start with. You weren’t allowed to apparate straight to the grounds, only on the outside of the wrought iron gates with aurors on either side doing identification checks with their wands. 

It reminded you of who was truly getting married.

The manor appeared gradually, revealed by the road; Old stone, ivy crawling patiently up its walls, magic humming so subtly you only noticed it once you crossed the threshold. The gates alone had made your stomach tilt.

You were greeted almost immediately by someone offering you a drink from a floating welcome platter, the glass already chilled in your hand, before being guided toward the back garden with the flow of guests.

A loud laugh carried across the lawn and you turned to see George Weasley, hair greying at the temples, hugging someone fiercely while barking instructions at a group of cousins nearby. A little farther off, the minister of magic Hermione Granger-Weasley stood deep in conversation with someone from the Ministry, posture sharp, expression focused even on a day like this. The weight of her presence was unmistakable.

Faces you recognized from newspapers. From portraits. From history books you’d read more than once. Former aurors whose names were still spoken with reverence. Healers who had treated half the wizarding population during the war. 

People who had survived things that shaped the world you lived in now.

And then—

Harry Potter.

He stood near the far side of the garden, laughing easily, sunlight catching in his black hair gracefully streaked by time as he spoke to a group of guests. There was a pride to him that made your chest tighten unexpectedly. Not the hero from stories. Just a father glowing on his daughter’s wedding day.

Your head felt light.

“Y/N?” 

You startled, then turned with a smile already forming as you recognized the young blond man approaching you.

“Scor,” you said warmly, stepping forward to hug him. “Hi.”

Scorpius Malfoy looked dashing in a sleek dark green suit and vest, a cream-white tie neatly in place. His hair, usually immaculate, looked like it had been run through one too many times already.

“It’s been a while,” he grinned. “You look wonderful.”

“Thank you,” you laughed softly. “How are you feeling? Nervous?”

“I’m definitely not calm,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But Lily wanted me to find you and send you up to the bridal suite.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “I thought her mum and cousins were helping her get ready.”

“They are,” he said, a little sheepish. “But she didn’t want you to be alone and stressed out.”

Your cheeks warmed despite yourself. Lily knew you far too well.

“Well,” you smiled, lifting your glass slightly, “then I suppose I shouldn’t keep the bride waiting.”

“Please don’t,” he laughed. “I’m banned from going up the stairs anyway. Just head all the way up and follow the sound of the music. You’ll find them.”

Lily spotted you hovering near the doorway and immediately squealed your name, crossing the room in three long strides before bulldozing straight into you. You stumbled back a step as she wrapped her arms around you.

“Good. You’re here,” she said firmly, like she’d been checking something off a list.

She was dressed in white silk pajamas, her makeup already done while her hair was still in the process of being styled. Around her, bridesmaids and cousins in matching baby blue moved in and out of corners, chatting and laughing as they got ready.

“Scorpius said you were looking for me?” you asked once you’d regained your balance.

“Yes,” Lily said simply. “I didn’t want you alone down there.”

You smiled, squeezing her hands lightly. “Lils, I promise, I can handle myself.”

“I know,” she replied immediately.

You blinked.

“Then—”

“But that doesn’t mean you should have to,” she added, cutting you off without missing a beat. “Especially today.”

You opened your mouth to argue, then stopped. “I’ll be fine,” you said more gently this time.

Lily studied you for half a second, sharp eyes scanning your face like she was checking for cracks.

“Okay,” she nodded. “Good.”

Then she grabbed your wrist and tugged you farther into the room.

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing toward a chair near the window. “Drink something. Eat if you haven’t. If anyone bothers you, tell them you’re with me.”

There were two tables pushed together filled with drinks, coffee, tea and bubbly wine, as well as pastries and snacks. 

You laughed softly. “You’re the bride.”

“Exactly,” she said. “Maximum authority.”

She squeezed your hand once, quick and grounding, before turning back toward her hairdresser.

“You’re not allowed to disappear before the ceremony,” Lily added over her shoulder. “After that, you can vanish all you like.”

You smiled to yourself, settling into the chair.

+

You stayed only long enough to be useful.

Long enough to hold a stray hairpin, to accept a glass of champagne pressed into your hand, to listen as Lily fielded last-minute questions with practiced calm. When her hair was finally secured and the room shifted into that anticipatory quiet that meant it’s time, you stepped back without needing to be asked.

The ceremony space had transformed while you were upstairs.

Rows of chairs stretched across the lawn in careful symmetry, lanterns floating above in slow, lazy orbits. Flowers climbed trellises and arches, shifting subtly in colour as magic responded to the gathering crowd.

Guests were already taking their seats, murmurs blending into a low, excited buzz. You let yourself be carried with them, moving without urgency, choosing a place near the side where you could see without being seen too much.

You smoothed your dress as you sat, folding your hands neatly in your lap.

It gave you a moment to take a breath, not that it lasted long when someone dropped into the seat beside you with far too much enthusiasm.

“Y/N!”

You startled, then grinned as you turned. “Jimin?”

He looked exactly like himself and somehow not at all. Sharper around the edges, like most of them and settled in his posture, but still wearing that unmistakable grin like he’d just found something delightful, as well as the shock of ash blonde hair gracing his head. 

“You coloured your hair?” Was the first question you managed to sound. 

“Do you like it?” 

“You look good, how are you?”

“You made it,” he said instead, ignoring your surface-level question and you couldn't even blame him for it.

“Barely,” so you teased him instead. “This place is… a lot.”

“That’s Lily for you,” he said proudly, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Did you see the guest list? I think I shook hands with at least three people who used to terrify me as a teenager.”

You smiled. “Only three?”

He scoffed. “Give me time.”

Before you could say anything else, another familiar presence hovered in front of you.

Jeongguk.

He stood there for half a second too long, like he wasn’t sure whether to interrupt or retreat. Taller now, much broader, but still somehow carrying that same earnest uncertainty you couldn’t help but notice up close, but there was no doubt about the confidence he wore with ease.

“Hey,” he said.

You stood up immediately and hugged him before he could overthink it. He froze for a fraction of a second, then relaxed into it, arms settling around you carefully.

“Well look at you, Mr. heartthrob,” You teased gently, feeling the strength of his hold. 

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” Jeongguk was smiling as he pulled back. “It’s been too long.”

“Too long,” Jimin cut in easily. “Sit. Both of you. Before the ceremony starts and Lily murders us for blocking the aisle.”

Jeongguk slid into the seat on your other side, shoulders brushing yours lightly as he settled. He smiled to himself, small and content, like he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this until now.

“So,” Jimin said, glancing between the two of you, “how overwhelmed are we feeling on a scale of one to fainting?”

“Six,” you answered.

“Same,” Jeongguk nodded.

Jimin grinned. “Excellent. Group solidarity.”

The area was starting to fill up more swiftly now, the conversations softening a fraction and the music shifting to a calmer tune. 

Then someone paused in the aisle beside your row.

You felt it before you saw him.

The subtle shift in air. The awareness sliding into place like a missing piece.

Taehyung stood there, gaze flicking briefly to Jimin, then Jeongguk, before landing on you.

“Mind if I join?” he asked, voice low, casual enough to give you an out.

Jimin blinked up at him. “You were going to sit somewhere else?”

“I was,” Taehyung said easily. “Then I changed my mind.”

Jeongguk scooted over without comment, making space. Jimin snorted softly but didn’t argue. Taehyung slid into the row, close but not crowding, knees angled forward, hands resting loosely on his thighs. His presence settled beside you like it always had. 

“Hi,” he murmured.

You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze. “Hi.”

That was it.

No pause. No tension spelled out. No acknowledgement of the years sitting invisibly between you.

Ahead, the music swelled again, fuller now. The crowd fell silent as one.

You faced forward, hands folding together in your lap, aware of the people on either side of you in a way that felt oddly grounding.

For the first time since arriving, the dizziness eased. Whatever else this day was, you weren’t navigating it alone.

And that, somehow, made all the difference.

+

By the middle of the reception, after all the teary eyed speeches from family, you had managed to get a good buzz of alcohol going. 

It was just the perfect amount to loosen up your anxious muscles and keep you warm in the evening breeze without making you act like a complete fool. 

The music had taken a 180 from earlier in the day, exciting beats famous sing-along songs to get most of the younger guests going — Lily and Scorpius being in the middle of the jumping dance circle.  She had gone so far as to rent a lad who had been in the same year as her — a famous muggle DJ now apparently — who seemed to be having the time of his life behind his personal set up. 

You had just barely managed to sneak away from the dance circle and grab yourself some water, lingering on the edge of the dance floor and by your assigned seat. Laughter carried freely now, glasses clinking without ceremony, and conversations overlapped in a way that felt lived in rather than rehearsed.

Even so, from here the social fault lines were impossible to ignore. 

Closer to the manor the older generation lingered. Not crowded like the cluster of many of your same-aged school mates, but calmer. Former aurors stood with their backs to stone walls, eyes still sharp, and still cataloguing exits out of habit, whilst ministry officials spoke in lower tones, posture precise even as they laughed.

And then there was the Malfoy side of things. Or should you have said Slytherin.

The air felt a bit different there, you admitted. Cooler perhaps, or curated carefully in a way. Old Slytherin families gathered in elegant knots, dark robes cut perfectly, jewellery understated but unmistakably expensive. Their conversations were quieter, smiles measured, attention sharp enough to make your shoulders tense even from a distance.

You recognized names you’d grown up hearing spoken carefully. Some rehabilitated. Some never fully trusted. 

And near the edge of that cluster you noticed Yoongi and his Greengrass wife by her family and Scorpius’ parents. You’d met him a handful of times after Hogwarts whenever you returned to London and met up with either Jeongguk and Jimin, and he would tag along. 

Yoongi caught your gaze briefly, and simply lifted his glass in a small, unmistakable salute before turning back to his wife, murmuring something that made her lips curve faintly.

You chuckled to yourself. Still as intimidating as ever, those two. 

You hadn’t realized how much of this night felt like standing between worlds until that moment.

You shifted your weight, suddenly aware of everything. Your dress. Your posture. The way you were holding your glass. The fact that you had absolutely no business wandering any closer to that side of the lawn.

So you stood there for a moment, breathing almost too carefully if that was possible. Then Taehyung appeared beside you without announcement.

“Do I need to stage a rescue?” he asked mildly.

You stared straight ahead. “Today I've been introduced to the extended Potter family – which just so happens to include war heroes and the minister of magic – and just now silently saluted by your married friend.”

He hummed. “Productive evening.”

You let your pulse settle back into something manageable with the night pressing in around you, warm and loud and full of motion, but Taehyung’s presence beside you acted like a buffer.

A shield, almost. 

Yet he didn’t speak right away. Neither did you.

The laughter around you softened, people leaning closer to hear one another over the pumping music, the reception settling into its second life. 

“You okay?” Taehyung asked quietly.

“I didn’t expect it to hit like this.”

“The scale of it?” 

“All of it,” you clarified. “The people. The history. The feeling that I might accidentally say the wrong thing and be remembered for it forever.”

He huffed softly. “Trust me, half of them are just relieved they’re not the center of attention anymore.”

“That doesn’t make them less intimidating.”

“No,” he agreed. “It really doesn’t.”

You shifted, finally turning to face him properly.

Up close he looked familiar in a way that tugged something low and deep in your chest, but at the same time he was like a different person. There were no more baby cheeks or the long messy hair, you had in your memory. 

Everything he wore was black; a fitted turtleneck tucked into tailored trousers, a long coat structured at the shoulders. A small gold brooch catches the light at his chest, subtle but deliberate, like an afterthought that still draws the eye. His hair is darker than you remember, brushed back but imperfect, a few strands falling loose around his forehead. 

It makes his face look sharper, more defined, though his expression is still familiar

Taehyung had always been a confident force of nature in your eyes, even before knowing him. But there was something different — a type of confidence that came without his teenage innocence, just steady and present without being too loud. 

There was a quiet focus in his eyes too, the kind that makes it seem like he’s observing more than he’s letting on.

You realized, distantly, that this was the first time you’d truly looked at him tonight.

“Hi,” you said again, quieter this time.

Taehyung’s  expression softened. “Hi.”

A pause stretched between you.

“So,” He cleared his throat lightly. “It’s… been a while.”

You snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Yeah,” He agreed, then winced slightly. “Sorry. That was—”

“No, it’s fine,” You cut in quickly. “I just— I don’t know what the correct opener is here.”

By the flush on his neck, he didn’t seem to either. 

You shifted your weight, angling your body a fraction more toward him without fully committing to it. “You look… well.”

He glanced down at himself briefly, then back up. “I feel mostly functional, which I’ll take as a win.”

“That’s about where I’m at too.”

Another almost-laugh passed between you.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” He admitted, quieter now.

You frowned slightly. “Why?”

Taehyung shrugged, small and noncommittal. “I don’t know. It’s been ten years. People change. Schedules exist.”

“That’s a very diplomatic way of saying ‘you might not have wanted to see me,’” You couldn’t help but say it. 

He grimaced. “That’s… also true.”

You looked down at your glass, watching the bubbles gather and break. “I hesitated.”

That got his attention. You felt it in the way he turned more fully toward you.

“Why?”

“Just because of everyone,” You admitted. Then rushed on, words tangling a bit. “Not in a bad way. Just— I didn’t want this to turn into something awkward. Or heavy. Or… I don’t know. Like reopening something that maybe doesn’t need reopening.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“You know how weddings are,” You continued, gesturing vaguely toward the dance floor. “Everyone’s emotional. Everyone’s nostalgic. It messes with your sense of proportion.”

“I do know,” He huffed, “I’ve had to physically stop Jimin from making three separate speeches already.”

That earned a real laugh from you, brief but genuine. “Sounds like him.”

“It was deeply concerning.”

You relaxed a fraction after that, shoulders lowering without you realizing. The silence that followed felt different. Less tense, but still careful. 

He hesitated, then added, “You seem happy, at least.”

The word landed carefully between you.

You considered it. “I am. Most days.”

He accepted it without pushing. “That’s good.”

You watched the crowd again, aware of how close he was without it feeling intrusive.

“I’m glad you came,” Taehyung added, a little awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to say.

You glanced at him. “I’m glad I did too.”

The music shifted again, something slower threading through the noise. People gravitated toward the center of the lawn, couples pairing off without much discussion. Lily was dragged into another dance with Scorpius, dress swishing dangerously close to someone’s abandoned shoes.

You both watched her for a second. “She’s glowing,” You noted fondly.

“They both are.”

One moment you’re standing near the edge of the lawn, the noise of the reception swelling and receding like a tide, and the next you’re moving away from it. Taehyung falling into step beside you without comment, like this was always the plan even though neither of you said it out loud.

You pass lanterns, laughter fading the further you go. Gravel crunching and the manor looming quieter from this side. There’s a stone bench near the back, half-hidden by hedges and the music reduced to a distant hum.

You sit, mostly because standing feels like too much. He follows a beat later, leaving a careful amount of space between you as the quiet presses in again. 

“So,” You say, exhaling. “This feels better.”

Your heart was still beating too fast. Like it knows something is happening and doesn’t want to miss it.

“You handled it well,” He says.

You snort quietly. “I almost forgot my own name twice.”

“That’s a normal response to meeting several generations of intimidating people in one night.”

You smile at that, but it fades quickly.

You think of Jensen before you mean to.

Not because you’re trying to compare. But because your brain always reaches for patterns when it’s nervous.

Jensen had been easy. From the beginning. Comfortable silences. Familiar routines. He fit into your life like he’d been designed for it. You never felt off-balance around him. Never wondered what he was thinking. Never felt like you were one wrong sentence away from something shifting.

You cared about him deeply. You still do, in a way that feels respectful and done. 

But sitting here now, heart thudding just because Taehyung’s knee brushes yours, you realize something you’ve known for a while but never said out loud.

You never felt this with Jensen.

Not the flutter. Not the awareness. Not the strange mix of comfort and tension that makes you feel both steady and slightly undone.

You swallow.

“I should probably say this before I lose my nerve.” You say, and feel immediately horrified after. But it was too late.  

Taehyung turns toward you with his full attention. “Okay?”

You take a breath. Then another.

“When I was with Jensen,” You started off, choosing your words carefully, “everything made sense. He was kind and steady and… safe.”

You couldn’t help but notice the way his features straightened as he nodded, listening carefully.. 

“And I thought that was what love was supposed to feel like,” You continue. “Because I wasn’t anxious. Or confused. Or second-guessing myself all the time.”

You glance at him briefly, then look away again.

“Yet I never felt nervous around him,” You looked at him closely, trying to gauge his reaction to your words. “Not once. I never felt like I had to catch my breath just because he was close.”

Taehyung doesn’t interrupt. He barely moves, if you were honest.

“But with you,” you murmured quietly, heart thudding. “I always did.”

His jaw tightens slightly.

“I told myself that meant it wasn’t real,” You go on, too afraid to let him get a word in. “That it was just gratitude. Or inexperience. Or me being seventeen and overwhelmed by someone who paid attention to me.”

You shake your head, a small, almost disbelieving smile on your lips. 

“Turns out I was just scared of naming it.”

You finally look at him then, or trying to. 

“I didn’t break up with Jensen because of you,” You say immediately. “That was its own thing. He wanted to settle, and I wanted motion. We stopped going after the same goals long before the breakup.”

Taehyung exhaled slowly.

“But when it ended,” you add, “I realized the thing I’d never let myself mourn had never been him.”

The silence stretches. 

Taehyung leaned forward, elbows on his knees and stared at the ground like it might keep him anchored.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

You blink. Not exactly the response you expected. “Pardon?”

“No,” he says quickly. “No, not—” he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a breath. “I just… I was prepared for a lot of outcomes tonight, and that wasn’t one of them.”

Your shoulders relaxed again, huffing a soft laugh, nerves spilling out. “Same.”

Taehyung straightens suddenly, like a decision’s been made without consulting his brain.

“Can I do something very impulsive?” He asks you. 

Your pulse spikes. “...That depends.”

He stands.

You don’t move. You don’t lean back. You just look up at him, heart thudding hard enough that you’re pretty sure he can see it.

“Are you certain?”

You’re not, but you still don’t stop it. 

So he exhales, mutters another “fuck it” under his breath, and leans down.

The kiss isn’t planned.

It’s not slow or careful or dramatic. It’s immediate. Warm. Slightly uncoordinated, like neither of you expected it to actually happen. His hand comes up to your jaw, steadying you, and perhaps grounding himself. 

You make a quiet sound of surprise before your hands find the collar of his jacket, gripping without thinking.

Your chest feels tight in the best way. Your head is spinning, just a little.

He doesn’t mean to let it stop there.

You feel the moment it hits him, the exact second restraint gives up. His hand tightens at your jaw, not rough, just decisive, and before you can even process it he’s pulling you up with him.

You barely register standing.

One moment you’re seated, heart racing, the next you’re on your feet and he’s there, close enough that there’s no room left to pretend this is still controlled. Your back brushes the stone wall behind you and he’s already kissing you again, harder this time, like he’s making up for lost time and bad timing and a decade of restraint. 

It’s rushed and unapologetic all at once.

Taehyung’s mouth moves against yours like he’s been waiting for permission he never knew how to ask for. Your hands slide up without thought, fingers curling around the nape of his neck anchoring yourself because your legs feel dangerously unsteady.

He exhales into the kiss, a sharp sound, like he didn’t expect it to hit this hard either.

“Merlin,” he mutters against your mouth, coaxing actual whine out of you from the loss of touch before he’s kissing you again.

There’s nothing tentative about it now; just heat and urgency and the very adult realization that you’re both done pretending this is something that can be talked through slowly.

You kiss him back just as urgently, pulling him closer and he lets himself be pulled, every inch of your bodies pressed up against each other. One hand slides to the back of your waist – firm and grounding – making you arch further against him, like he needs the physical confirmation that this is actually happening.

It’s messy in the way real things are.

Your breath stutters. His does too. Someone laughs somewhere far off near the reception and it barely registers, the world narrowing down to the press of his body and the way your chest feels too full, too fast, too alive.

He breaks the kiss only because he has to breathe.

His forehead drops to yours, both of you breathing hard now, the tension still crackling instead of fading.

Taehyung looked beautiful. His lips subtly swollen, cheeks naturally rosy and his hair a bit more of a mess. His dark eyes were blown out with his want for you, and you couldn’t help the grin beginning to tug at your own swollen lips, lip gloss long gone. 

Taehyung chuckled, noticing the expression. “You cheeky witch.”

You laugh too, breathless. “You love it.”

His thumb brushes along your jaw again, slower now, like he’s grounding himself after the impact.

“That I do, love” he says quietly. “I’m very late.”

You meet his gaze, chest still rising too fast. “Me too.”

He leans in again, softer this time but no less certain, pressing one more kiss to your mouth like punctuation

When he pulls back, his hands stay at your waist.

“Okay,” he suddenly declared, steadier now. “That felt very real.”

You giggle. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

He grins this time, wide and unmistakably Taehyung from your youth. “Unfortunate how?”

You glance back toward the glow of the reception, then back at him. “Because now I have to walk back in there pretending my heart isn’t trying to escape my ribcage.”

He chuckles, leaning in close enough to murmur, “I’ll survive the same problem.”

Your arms slowly loop around his own waist, hanging onto his body as you tilted your head even further back with a pout. “You realize that Lily is going to notice.”

“Oh, absolutely,” he says without hesitation. “She clocked this about ten years before either of us did.”

You huff a laugh. “She’s going to be unbearable.”

“She’s going to cheer,” he corrects with a wink “Loudly. Possibly in public.”

“And then,” you continue, already resigned, “there will be the I told you sos.”

This time Taehyung winces, but he’s smiling. “Worth it.”

You look at him properly then. Still familiar. Still ridiculous. Still standing far too close like this has always been where he belonged.

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “Worth it.”