SOUL BONDS ( Under revision )

Chapter 2

Seokjin from BTS was sitting right beside me.

Not on a screen. Not in a video. Not in some edited fan clip.

Right beside me—close enough that if I leaned the wrong way, our shoulders would touch.

For a moment, my brain refused to process it. Like reality had glitched. Then the realization hit, and I let out a frustrated groan before dropping my forehead onto the table with a dull thud.

"Fuck... I'm such a dumbass," I muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Hey," Jin scolded immediately, his voice firm but not unkind. "Watch your mouth, young lady."

The others broke into laughter, and I lifted my head slowly, already regretting every life choice that had led me to this moment. "Sorry," I mumbled, rubbing my forehead.

That was when they removed their masks.

And I swear my heart stopped beating.

I had seen them on stage, in photos, on interviews—everyone had. But seeing them like this, up close, in real life... it was different. Too real. Too unreal. They were breathtaking. Not in the dramatic, exaggerated way people described online. They were genuinely, undeniably handsome. Every detail—every expression, every glance—made it obvious why the world couldn't look away from them.

Namjoon leaned back in his seat, his dimples appearing as he chuckled. "You took that pretty well. Usually there would be a crowd of people here right about now."

I swallowed, forcing myself to stay calm even though my heart was trying to jump out of my chest. "I don't like drawing attention to myself," I replied with a shrug, keeping my voice steady.

The conversation moved forward naturally after that. We ordered our food, and slowly the tension inside me eased. They weren't acting like celebrities. They weren't arrogant or cold. If anything, they were... normal. And somehow, that made everything feel even more surreal.

As the minutes passed, I found myself laughing. Really laughing. Not the fake kind, not the polite kind—real laughter that made my cheeks hurt. I learned more about Jungkook's tattoos and the way he spoke about them with quiet pride. I listened to Yoongi complain about how much he loved sleep and how angry he got when people interrupted it. I watched Hobi's expressions, bright and animated, as he teased everyone with effortless charm. It felt strange. Comfortable. I hadn't felt that kind of comfort around people in a long time. I hadn't connected with anyone in so long that I almost forgot what it felt like to talk freely without guarding every word.

Eventually, Jin glanced at my plate. "Do you want anything else?"

He had already paid for my food, which I still wasn't sure how to react to. "No thank you," I answered, smiling softly.

Time passed faster than I expected. One moment we were talking and eating, and the next the restaurant had grown quieter, the sky outside darkening into night. When I mentioned going home, they immediately insisted on taking me. I tried to refuse, but they wouldn't listen. So now I was sitting in the backseat, squeezed between Yoongi and Hobi, and within minutes both of them had fallen asleep. Their heads rested against my shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. I didn't move. I barely breathed. I stared straight ahead, unsure if I should laugh or panic. They looked exhausted, and the guilt crept up my spine. They didn't have to do this. They didn't have to drive me home. I could've called an Uber.

When we finally reached my apartment building, I glanced at the others and spoke quietly. "Do you guys want to stay at my place tonight? I know you're tired, and you didn't have to bring me home. I could've walked or called an Uber."