"What happens behind closed doors is ours to own, no matter the cost." ~KIM TAEHYUNG
"Every stolen glance is a drop of sin, filling river of our Alchemy." ~HAE AYUN
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Ever heard...
Taehyung had slipped backstage right after his performance.
The lights dimming once again and the applause slowly fading.
I thought that would be the end of it.
But a while later, he reappeared—No longer in the stage outfit, but a shiny black coat that shimmered under the dim lights. It looked effortlessly elegant, beautiful even.
His hair slightly tousled, likely a remnant of his earlier performance, yet somehow it only added to his appeal.
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I nudged Yoongi, whose eyes followed mine just as Taehyung sauntered over.
He flashed a lazy smile, hands tucked casually into his pockets as though he hadn't just turned the entire room on its head.
"Hyung," Taehyung greeted, his voice still low and velvety from the performance.
Yoongi straightened, a playful glare in his eyes. "You just had to steal the night, didn't you?"
"Figured I'd better show my face before you start a search party," Taehyung joked, his lips curling into a grin that was both sly and effortless.
Yoongi shook his head, letting out a scoff. "Cheeky bastard."
I sat quietly, almost expecting to fade into the background.
But then, he glanced at me—a fleeting, barely-there acknowledgment but enough to make my spine straighten as if on command.
The conversation between him and Yoongi flowed effortlessly, their words becoming background noise as I tried to regain some composure.
But then, there it was again—another glance, this one more deliberate, more focused.
As if deciding to finally acknowledge me for real, he turned his full attention toward me, his eyes holding mine just long enough to make it feel significant while offering me a polite nod.
"Ayun."
"Great performance." I blurted out unable to think of what else to say.
It was not like I haven't known him at all.
We meet once in a while due to the fact that he is my husband's best friend and so is Jimin.
But the thing is, Jimin's warmth was immediate, effortless, like slipping into an old conversation.
But Taehyung— he was reserved, more difficult to read.
His demeanor calm but distant.
It always took me a while to adjust to him, to find my footing in his quiet, contemplative orbit.
Hence, we barely spoke.
And when we did, everything felt measured— like you had to earn his words.
Taehyung's lips curved into a half smile, offering a soft "Thank you."
