Uɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ Lᴏᴠᴇ || ❀ TH×JM ❀

Pᴀʀᴛ- 15

Cuz sm of y'all responded to my new book, here is the update.

[Two weeks later]

"Hmm... sure. Oh—why not?! Haha, I'll be there in twenty minutes," Taehyung said before cutting off the call with a careless flick of his finger, the faintest hint of excitement lingering on his lips.

Jin, lounging lazily on the couch while sipping the lemonade Yoongi had made earlier, raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. The cold drink soothed his throat, but there was a slight edge to his tone. "Are you really going there? You've gone mad, Tae."

The soft chuckle that escaped Taehyung's mouth was almost melodic, the kind of sound that might be heard in a lazy summer breeze. Without offering Jin a single word, he pulled off his T-shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor, and began rummaging through his wardrobe, as though the very act of choosing clothes was somehow cathartic.

Jin’s patience, however, was wearing thin. The silence was grating, a heavy stone tied to his sinking mood. He set his glass down with an exasperated sigh. "Kim Taehyung," he called, his voice a mix of annoyance and brotherly authority.

"Yeah?" Taehyung's response was nonchalant, as if Jin’s growing frustration had failed to pierce the bubble of his daydream. He slid his arms into the sleeves of a denim jacket, the rough fabric hugging his broad shoulders with a certain defiance.

Jin's gaze darkened with disbelief. "Are you really that whipped for Jimin?" The disbelief in his voice was unmistakable, like the incredulity of a mythological hero gazing upon a task the gods had set him. He shook his head, as if to clear the absurdity away, but it lingered like a mist.

Taehyung’s mind seemed far away. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, a faint smirk curving his lips. "Blonde suits me, right? I’m not planning to cut my hair anytime soon." His fingers stroked the neatly tied man bun, and for a fleeting moment, he resembled a modern-day samurai, torn between honor and rebellion.

"Unbelievable," Jeongguk muttered from his spot beside Jin, his voice laced with dry amusement. He had been quietly observing the entire exchange, lying with one leg propped up, a smirk playing at his lips. "This lad’s lost his last two brain cells since last night."

Without missing a beat, Taehyung replied, "Nice tongue twister," all while drowning himself in a cloud of cologne, as though the act of spraying the fragrance would somehow cloak the inner turmoil he refused to acknowledge.

Jin rolled his eyes. He had grown accustomed to his brother’s antics, but something about Taehyung’s behavior gnawed at him today. "Last night, Yoongi had to go back to his old institute for some documents. Jimin went along to keep him company because it wasn’t safe for Yoongi to go alone. What’s the big deal? Why are you acting like this?"

The question seemed to linger in the air, heavy with implication. Taehyung's expression darkened. He glanced between his two brothers, his usually sparkling eyes clouded with a mixture of offense and vulnerability. "Jimin didn’t even tell me. My own brother didn’t bother to tell me," he muttered, his voice a delicate balance of hurt and accusation. He crossed his arms over his chest, standing like a tragic figure from a forgotten epic—betrayed by his own kin, left to wrestle with emotions he didn’t fully understand.

"Okay, maybe he forgot because he was in a rush," Jeongguk offered with a shrug. His tone was casual, but there was an underlying curiosity in his gaze. "Why are you complaining like he’s your boyfriend or something?"

Taehyung blinked, momentarily caught off-guard. His lips parted, but no words came. Instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, like an ancient hero struggling with unspoken inner demons. "What rush? And why can’t I miss him? We don’t have to be lovers to miss someone. If I miss my brother, why is it such a big deal?" His words were almost philosophical, as though he were musing aloud to the gods themselves. He sighed again, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of his unspoken feelings.