The door creaked open, revealing Taehyung sprawled on his bed, seemingly roused from a nap. I hesitated, then stepped inside, a familiar warmth washing over me. We were close—always touchy, comfortable in each other’s space. But somewhere along the line, the affection had shifted, blossoming into something more.
I watched him, and fell harder. The realization was dizzying, terrifying. What was I getting myself into? What if he didn't reciprocate? The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
I pushed the anxieties aside, forcing myself into the familiar role of friend, of Y/n. Then, impulsively, I launched myself onto his bed, landing squarely in his lap.
He startled, then a calm smile touched his lips. He leaned back against the headboard, his hands settling on my back, my fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
The sound of it sent a jolt through me. It was intoxicating. My skin prickled with awareness, a heat I hadn't felt before. This closeness… it felt different.
We’d been close before, but this was something else. This was… love.
He was staring at me, and I was staring back, unable to look away. A desperate urge surged within me, a need to close the distance. Before I could think, I pressed my lips to his, a breathless moan escaping his lips as he responded.
But the kiss was cut short. He pulled back, his expression hardening.
“No,” he said, the word clipped and stern.
“I… I’m sorry,” I stammered, already feeling the sting of rejection.
“Get out.”
The force of his command shocked me. I hadn’t expected anger, not this raw, visceral rejection.
“What? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“I said get OUT.” His voice rose, his face contorting with disgust and regret.
I didn't argue. I scrambled off his lap, trembling, and stumbled toward the door. It wasn't the rejection itself, but the violence of it that stung. Taehyung had never raised his voice at me. I'd never seen him this angry.
Before I could fully process it, tears welled up, blurring my vision. My legs threatened to buckle beneath me.
“Y/n, are you okay?” Jimin’s voice cut through the haze.
“I—” The words caught in my throat. My legs gave way, and I crumpled to the floor.
Strong arms wrapped around me, catching my fall. Jimin held me close as tears streamed down my face, a silent, aching wave of grief.