A knock interrupted.
Taehyung looked up.
His jaw instantly tightened.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Yoongi.
His hands in his hoodie pockets.
Face unreadable.
"I heard she collapsed," he said simply.
His eyes briefly met yours.
"Still breathing, so that's good."
You smiled faintly.
"That's romantic, Yoongi."
"Someone has to balance all the drama around you," he replied.
Taehyung stood up slightly.
"What do you want?"
Yoongi glanced at him.
"You," he said.
"And him."
You frowned.
"Who?"
He tilted his head towards the door again.
Jungkook stood there.
Not inside.
Just… there.
Like he didn't feel he had the right to step closer.
His knuckles were red.
From clenching.
From something else.
He didn't even look at Taehyung.
His eyes were only on you.
"…Are you okay?" he asked.
Your silence answered instead.
Yoongi stepped in between, blocking his view.
"That's not how this works," Yoongi said.
Jungkook's jaw flexed.
"What?"
"She almost collapsed because her mind couldn't shut up," Yoongi continued.
"And you're one of the loudest voices inside it."
Taehyung crossed his arms.
"So what — you're coming to give him permission now?"
Yoongi shook his head.
"I'm coming to tell him to stay away."
Jungkook's head snapped up.
"You don't get to decide that."
"No," Yoongi replied.
"She does."
He looked back at you.
"But she's too kind to say it.
So I will."
The room went cold.
"For now," he continued,
"you keep your distance."
Jungkook swallowed.
"Is that what she wants?"
Everyone looked at you.
You looked down.
Your fingers twisted the blanket.
"…I don't know what I want," you whispered.
"But I know I'm tired of hurting."
Jungkook's breath hitched.
Taehyung stepped forward.
"She needs rest," he said firmly.
"Not another emotional marathon."
Silence.
Then Jungkook nodded once.
Small.
Painful.
"I'll go," he said.
He turned before you could see his face break.
The door closed.
This time, softly.
Taehyung sat back down beside you.
Yoongi watched him.
"You're doing a good job," Yoongi said quietly.
"This isn't a job," Taehyung replied.
It was personal.
And both of them knew it.
Taehyung brushed your forehead gently.
"Sleep," he murmured.
"What if I start overthinking again?"
"Then I'll just sit here again."
You looked at him.
"Why?"
His lips pressed into a thin line.
"…Because someone has to care without making it complicated."
Your eyes slowly closed again.
This time…
Without fear.
The room was quiet again.
Too quiet.
The heater still hummed softly.
The curtains barely moved.
Your breath had evened out…
But Taehyung hadn't moved.
He was still sitting on the edge of your bed, one hand folded tightly in his lap, the other resting near your pillow.
You turned slightly.
"You're still here?"
He nodded.
Didn't look at you.
"You didn't sleep all night," you whispered.
He exhaled slowly.
"I didn't feel like closing my eyes."
"Why?"
He swallowed.
"…Because when I close them, I see you collapsing again."
That's when you finally turned fully towards him.
His jaw looked tight.
His calm expression was there… but it was thin.
Like glass about to crack.
"You shouldn't worry like that," you murmled.
He laughed softly—but it wasn't warm.
"Do you really believe that comes with an off button?"
You didn't answer.
His eyes finally met yours.
And this time…
he wasn't hiding.
"You always act like you're fine," he said.
"Like breaking alone is some kind of achievement."
Your throat tightened.
"You're not allowed to make yourself disappear like that."
"I wasn't disappearing…"
"You were," his voice got sharper.
"Right in front of me."
You sat up slowly.
"Then why didn't you stop me?"
His fingers clenched.
"I wanted to."
"I ran after you."
"But you were hurting so badly I didn't even know which part of you to try and save."
Silence.
The air was heavy.
He stood up suddenly, pacing once.
"You know what's worse?" he muttered.
"You still protect him. Even while he's hurting you."
You looked down.
"He didn't mean—"
Taehyung turned sharply.
"That's always your answer."
His voice cracked slightly.
"You keep handing people excuses like reasons are medicine."
"Maybe because people aren't perfect," you snapped.
He stopped.
Turned.
Walked back and sat down near you again — closer now.
"So what about me then?" he asked.
You froze.
"What about you?"
His eyes searched your face.
"Am I just… another situation you're managing?"
Your heart stilled.
"…No."
"Then why does it feel like you're always trying to leave before I even get a chance to stay?"
Your breath hitched.
He looked away again, hand running through his hair, frustrated.
"I hate that you don't see yourself the way others do."
"Then tell me," you whispered.
He laughed – bitter this time.
"They see a star."
"A NATIONAL ATHLETE."
"A soft miracle."
His voice dropped.
"I just see someone who thinks loneliness is strength."
Your eyes watered.
"And what do you see in yourself?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then quietly:
"Someone who learned too late how much he cared."
Your gaze fell.
He stood again.
But this time…
…he didn't walk away.
He just stopped near the window.
Looking outside.
And breathing like he was trying to control something that couldn't be controlled anymore.
He didn't turn around.
His hand rested against the cold glass of the window,
as if the night outside was the only thing keeping him steady.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then… quietly:
"I never wanted to be like this."
You looked at his back.
"Like what?" you asked.
He let out a slow breath.
"Loud with emotions.
Messy.
Uncontrolled."
His fingers curled slightly.
"But you do that to me."
The room went still.
He turned his head just enough so you could see the side of his face.
"From the day you joined this camp… I noticed it."
You swallowed.
"Not like that," he continued.
"At first, you were just… different. You didn't look at me like everyone else. No expectations. No pressure."
He finally turned fully around.
"And that scared me more than anything."
He walked closer, but stopped a few steps away.
"Because I started waiting for the quiet moments.
For the way you speak softly when you're tired.
For the way you listen instead of trying to fix."
Your heart started racing.
"And then one day," he said, voice dropping,
"I realized I wasn't just watching you because I cared."
Your breath hitched.
"I was watching to check if you were okay.
Not just as part of the team. Not because I had to."
His jaw tightened.
"But because when you aren't okay…
my whole day feels wrong."
Silence filled the room.
"Do you know how stupid that is for someone like me?" he scoffed softly.
"People see someone composed, someone in control."
He gestured lightly to himself.
"But around you… I forget how to be either of those."
You couldn't even speak.
"So I hid it," he continued.
"I stayed neutral. Calm. Friendly. I kept telling myself, 'she has enough problems. Don't add yourself into the mess.'"
"And then what?" you whispered.
"And then…"
his eyes softened.
"I watched you get hurt by other people while pretending you were fine."
His voice trembled slightly.
"And I hated myself for not being closer
when you needed warmth."
He finally stepped in front of you, close enough that his presence felt heavier than his words.
"I don't want to stand in your way.
I don't want to replace anything or anyone in your life."
He looked at your eyes carefully.
"But I couldn't hide this anymore."
You slowly stood up too.
"And what exactly were you hiding?" you asked, barely above a whisper.
His eyes searched yours.
"That staying quiet around you was never because I didn't care…"
He paused.
"…it was because I cared too much."
A silence, deep and soft.
Not uncomfortable.
Just heavy with truth.
He didn't touch you.
Didn't step closer.
He just let the moment breathe.
You didn't step back.
You didn't look away.
Instead… you said softly,
"You never have to hide around me again."
His eyes widened slightly.
"And I mean that," you added.
"Not as pressure. Not as a promise. Just… truth."
He didn't move.
Like he was scared the moment might vanish if he breathed too loudly.
So you stepped closer.
Your hands slowly reached up to his face, resting against his cheeks.
He froze.
You were trembling.
But you didn't stop.
And then…
you kissed him.
Not rushed.
Not dramatic.
Just… quiet.
Soft.
Real.
He didn't pull away.
Didn't deepen it.
Just stood there, stunned — like someone who had been waiting for rain and finally got it.
But neither of you knew…
You weren't alone.
OUTSIDE THE DOOR
Ria stood frozen.
She had come looking for Jungkook, but stopped when she heard voices.
And she heard everything.
Not just the kiss.
The confession.
The honesty.
The silence.
Her hands tightened around her phone.
Her jaw clenched.
And then she turned, walking straight down the hallway.
Fast.
JUNGKOOK — TRAINING AREA
Jungkook was wrapping his hands after practice when she arrived.
His forehead was sweaty.
His expression already tired.
"What happened?" he asked.
Ria didn't sugarcoat it.
"She chose him."
He looked up slowly.
"…What?"
"She kissed Taehyung. Right in front of me."
"She made it very clear."
The words didn't hit him immediately…
But when they did…
His jaw tightened.
His grip on the bandage around his hand loosened.
"She kissed him?" he repeated, quietly.
Ria folded her arms.
"I heard everything," she added.
"How he confessed… how she told him he doesn't need to hide anymore."
His eyes darkened slightly.
Not anger like shouting…
Anger like silence before a storm.
"So… what now?" he asked.
Ria looked at him.
"Now she won't have to keep choosing."
He looked up again.
"What do you mean?"
A faint smile curved on her lips.
"You keep trying to protect her from confusion, right? From stress? From choosing between people?"
She stepped closer.
"Then help me make it easier for her."
He didn't respond.
He just stared ahead.
"…How?" he finally asked.
Ria leaned closer to him, whispering:
"If she thinks her choices already ruined everything…
she won't bother trying to fix them anymore."
Jungkook looked away.
His knuckles tightened.
Not in violence.
In hurt.
In ego.
In pride.
He didn't answer.
But he didn't stop her either.
END SCENE
Later that night…
Your phone buzzed.
Unknown message.
"You won't have to be confused between them anymore.
Soon you'll see who always knew where you belonged."
No name.
No number.
Just… that.
You stared at it.
Not scared.
Not yet.
Just unsettled.
Like a warning disguised as care.
The next day…
Y/N opened her phone.
A notification popped up:
Jungkook posted a picture.
It was him… with Ria.
Too close.
Too intimate.
And the caption made her freeze:
"No more confusion. She's my girlfriend now."
Her heart dropped.
Her fingers trembled.
And before she could even process it…
Another message arrived.
From Jungkook.
"Now you won't have to be confused between me and Taehyung anymore.
Because I made the choice for you."