#supv

Even before Ms. Son could knock on his door to inform him of a guest downstairs, Yoongi could already tell that it was Taehyung from his hurried footsteps. Yoongi turned on his stool, expecting Taehyung to burst into his room like the boy Yoongi had remembered him to be. Instead, he heard a knock first, but before Yoongi could answer, Taehyung had already opened the door, his wide, charming grin plastered on his face.

Yoongi could not help but mirror Taehyung’s expression; his lips seemed to stretch on their own without Yoongi even realizing. He stood up, stretching his hand outwards to shake Taehyung’s hand, only for him to be enveloped into a warm embrace.

Yoongi was never fond of hugging, as he never knew what to do with his hands but with Taehyung, he found himself embracing the boy back, hands softly clutching onto Taehyung’s coat as he inhaled Taehyung’s scent. Taehyung had grown slightly taller and admittedly, bigger than him since they’ve last met, much to his disdain.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you!” murmured Taehyung, warm breath tickling Yoongi’s ear.

Slightly embarrassed, Yoongi pulled away and reached out to tousle Taehyung’s curls. “And I to you, Taehyung. I see that Paris had been treating you well,” beamed Yoongi.

Taehyung let out a hearty chuckle, putting his hands into the pocket of his coat as he shrugged. “Wonderful country, but I would very much rather be here with you.”

Yoongi felt his heart stutter in his chest at the words Taehyung so shamelessly utter. How could a boy say those words so boldly to another boy? But this was Taehyung, who had always worn his heart on his sleeve, whose face never betray any emotions.

“Hundreds of sunsets in Paris and you’d still rather be in this lonely town with me? A jester, you are, Taehyung,” laughed Yoongi, and he missed the way Taehyung’s expression changed.

“I made Sowon purchase tickets for the opera tonight. For two. Would you be so kind to accompany me like the old times, Yoongi?” asked Taehyung as he took out two familiar green tickets from the coat of his pocket.

“It would be my pleasure.”

      They were seated in one of the balcony booths, a place that Taehyung have always wanted to secure from the first moment they stepped foot inside the theatre. Yoongi had given Taehyung a knowing smile when they were guided to their booth, and Taehyung replied with a playful grin.

Once they have seated, Taehyung leaned in to whisper, “I’ve sold twenty paintings for this moment, Yoongi. Are you proud of me?”

Yoongi placed a hand in front of his lips to stop himself from letting out a giggle before he replied, “I do. Don’t you read any of my letters, Taehyung? I’ve always known you are made to be a painter, after all.”

Yoongi could see the peach colouring Taehyung’s honey cheeks, and there was a surprise look on Taehyung’s face.

“I, for sure, thought you would give me a sarcastic remark, Yoongi. But are you, really?”

“I, what?”

“Proud of me?”

With a small smile, Yoongi replied, “Always.”

    Yoongi had watched A Gentle Sin countless of times, and it was the first play that he and Taehyung had watched together. To say that Yoongi was familiar with the opera would be an understatement, but no matter how many times he had attended, he would always find a new detail in the play that he would grow to love.

A forbidden love story between two star-crossed lovers; a mortal and an immortal who only walks at night. Romance was only enjoyable to Yoongi if it had done right, and A Gentle Sin never failed to tug at his heartstrings.

He and Taehyung would discuss every play they have watched together on their way home, which was curious to Yoongi as to why he found Taehyung’s gaze kept on lingering to him during the play.

There was a small voice in Yoongi’s head that was feeding him thoughts he prayed to not be true, and he tried to drown it by focusing on the play instead. He convinced himself that Taehyung was simply bored but did not wish to interrupt Yoongi, thus the lingering gazes.

    If it weren’t for Yoongi’s insistence to converse about the play, the walk back home would be eerily silent which would be very unlike Taehyung, for it was always Taehyung who would prattle on and on about every tiny new detail that he had spotted during the play. This time, however, it was Yoongi who carried the conversation.

Taehyung only watched as Yoongi excitedly describe in detail, his eyes never leaving Yoongi. Often, he would hum and agree in respond, and it made Yoongi felt as if he was conversing with a wall, but Yoongi was too afraid to be silent.

Yoongi had the strong desire to run away when he finally ran out of things to say, which was terrible because there was something in him that kept on urging him to talk. When he turned to Taehyung, Taehyung was looking at him with a look that gave him a sudden panic, praying for him to vanish into thin air.

To his surprise and relief, Taehyung opened his lips to speak, “Do you mind if I come over and listen to you play?”

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

     They were sitting side by side on the piano stool; Yoongi skillfully playing the piano as Taehyung watched. When it ended, Taehyung clapped his hands and let out a rather dramatic gasp before showering Yoongi with flattery. “How amazing you are, Yoongi!”

The never-ending compliment turned Yoongi’s ears red, and lips stretched into a grin. “Oh, stop it, you!”

“That was a new one, is it not? It’s your own composition, admit it.”

“Yes, it is. It’s a struggle to come up with something original lately, but creating music brings me joy,” said Yoongi, a finger pressing on one of the black keys on the piano.

“So do I, with painting. It brings me immense joy to hold a brush and bring the images in my mind to life. I haven’t properly thanked you yet… you and your grandfather, for sending me abroad.” Taehyung’s voice dropped an octave as he said so, his eyes were casted downwards on the piano keys.  

“Please, there is no need to thank us. We wanted to do it, Taehyung. You deserve it, you ray of sunshine. I know you can make your family proud,” murmured Yoongi.

“I—” Taehyung opened his lips to speak as he turned hastily to Yoongi, but no words left his mouth.

Yoongi faced Taehyung, and the look Taehyung was giving him sent a shiver down his spine. He had somehow known that this would happen, but he had been ignoring his feelings and assuring himself that he was wrong that the moment he dreaded was here and Yoongi was powerless and helpless to stop it. In an effort to lift the tension in the room, Yoongi reached out to ruffle Taehyung’s dark locks and let out a laugh that he hoped did not sound forced.

“Missing Paris already?” joked Yoongi, his fingers still buried in Taehyung’s soft curls.

Before Yoongi could withdraw his hand back, Taehyung had wrapped his hand around Yoongi’s wrist, holding it gently.

There was a seriousness in Taehyung’s eyes that Yoongi had never seen there before, and it was starting to worry Yoongi. He wanted to run away, to lock himself to another chamber, but they were still in Yoongi’s haven — his bedroom – and with Taehyung holding his wrist, Yoongi could only stay seated through this torment.

Yoongi tried to move his hand by lowering it, but somehow his palm ended up against Taehyung’s cheek, and Taehyung was still holding him gently with those wildfire in his eyes.

“Yoongi, my dearest, I—”

It was Taehyung who spoke, but it felt as if there were words stuck in Yoongi’s throat. Yoongi swallowed, not daring to move or breathe.

With a sigh and unblinking eyes, Taehyung said, “I have loved you since I’ve known you. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is you. I— I couldn’t help it, Yoongi, you’ve been so kind to me, to my family and I’ve tried to show you, but you wouldn’t let me, and even when I tried to say it, you’ve never responded and I can’t go on any longer, I simply can’t.”

“Oh, dear, no, Taehyung, please… I thought you’d understand that we can’t— we —” implored Yoongi, both hands cupping Taehyung’s cheeks.

Taehyung closed his eyes, basking in Yoongi’s touch before exhaling and opening his eyes.

“You love me too, don’t you?”

“I can’t—” began Yoongi, but he was struggling to find the right words. Taehyung was looking at him with those doe eyes, patiently waiting and it made Yoongi’s heart ache. “— I’m so desperately sorry, Taehyung. I can’t, we can’t, it’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“What ever do you mean by that?”

“You’ll fine a lovely, accomplished girl that will truly adore you. You enjoy the elegant society, the dance, and you’d hate my spending my time composing, locking myself in my room, my constant scribbling—”

“No, I won’t, you’ve made me a better man, my love. You, Yoongi, you,” spoke Taehyung with a fierce tone.

“Don’t, Taehyung. Please don’t call me that, I am anything but that. I can’t, I simply can’t,” cried Yoongi, letting go of Taehyung’s face.

Taehyung’s face fell, and if the room was any quieter, Yoongi was frightened that he could hear Taehyung’s heart breaking into pieces. Taehyung had grown so still, his gaze finally leaving Yoongi’s face only to settle on the ground, and for a moment, Yoongi thought that Taehyung would run away, but it seemed as if Yoongi’s words were too much for him to bear that Taehyung laid his head down on edge of the fallboard and closed his eyes.

“Please, Taehyung, listen to me. I am so grateful to you, and so proud and fond of you, I wish I could say that I can see myself in the future with you, but I can’t. Not now, not when there are scrutinizing eyes everywhere. I don’t believe I shall ever marry, and I love my liberty too well to be in any hurry to give it up for anyone. Not for a mortal woman, not for a mortal man.”

Taehyung looked up from the fallboard, eyes filled with love and longing, and Yoongi wished that he could say what Taehyung wished to hear. How could he deny the poor boy, when his lashes were wet, and his eyes were begging for Yoongi to reciprocate his feelings?

“I know better than you, Yoongi, I know you!” broke in Taehyung, tears streaming down his face, “There will come a time when you will care for somebody, and I know you will love them tremendously. I know you will, and it hurts because it isn’t me— because I am not enough, because I am not half good enough for you!”

“I do care about you, but not the way you want me to, Taehyung, please…” pleaded Yoongi, feeling his heart moving up to his throat. He reached out to hold Taehyung’s arm, but even in his anger, Taehyung managed to gently push Yoongi’s hand away. Yoongi’s hands itched to hold onto Taehyung, to mend his broken heart, but he could only watch as the boy silently sob.

“If it was a man, I know you would not think twice to marry him. There will come a day when you would live and die for him. I know you, Yoongi. And I’ll be hanged if I stand by and watch you with him.”

“Tae…”