Our beloved summer

Chapter 1

Third person's pov

The smell of fresh toast and coffee lingered in the air as Taehyung descended the stairs, his bag hanging loosely off one shoulder. His footsteps were quiet, almost careful.

Namjoon, sitting by the table with his sketchbook open, looked up from his coffee and greeted him with a warm smile. "Good morning, Tae."

Yoongi, dressed up in his doctor's coat, was already seated with a newspaper folded beside his untouched breakfast. "Taehyung, good morning," he said gently.

Taehyung paused, meeting Yoongi's gaze briefly before looking away, his expression distant and unreadable. He dropped into his seat and picked up a piece of toast, eating in silence, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the table.

Namjoon exchanged a glance with Yoongi, then reached over, placing a comforting hand on Taehyung's head. "Eat up, Tae," he murmured, patting him gently, though he knew there would be no reply.

Taehyung finished his toast, stood, and slung his bag back over his shoulder without a word. He headed toward the door. Namjoon and Yoongi watched as he closed the door behind him, leaving the house quiet once more.

The moment they heard the soft click of the door, Yoongi let out a long, shuddering sigh, his shoulders slumping as he removed his glasses. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, the exhaustion and worry catching up to him.

His voice wavered as he muttered, "I don't know how much longer I can keep watching him like this..."

Namjoon stood, his footsteps soft as he moved to Yoongi's side. He rested a comforting hand on his older brother's back, gently patting in a steady rhythm.

"He'll come around, hyung. It'll take time, but he will," he murmured, offering what little hope he could find.

Yoongi nodded, but his hands trembled as he put his glasses back on, his gaze hollow. "I just want to see him smile again," he whispered, almost to himself.

Namjoon tried to muster a smile. "At least finish your breakfast. You've got a long day ahead."

But Yoongi shook his head, pushing his plate aside. "I'm not hungry," he muttered.

With that, he stood, brushing a hand through his hair before moving towards the door. Namjoon stayed in the quiet kitchen, his heart aching as he looked at the untouched food, the empty chair, and the silent house.

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The lecture hall was quiet, humming with low whispers as students shuffled into their seats. Taehyung sat near the window, his gaze distant, fixed on the world outside. He was there but not there, floating through the minutes like a leaf on water.

No one bothered him, and he preferred it that way-silent, undisturbed, invisible. The lingering ache inside him felt a little easier to bear when he was alone, lost in his own thoughts.

A sudden murmur rose as the classroom door creaked open, pulling Taehyung's attention. He looked up, faintly curious, as the professor entered with someone trailing behind him-a face Taehyung had never seen before.

The boy by the professor's side seemed almost out of place. He was... beautiful. Taehyung blinked, slightly taken aback. The stranger was delicate in a way that felt otherworldly, with pale skin that caught the classroom's harsh fluorescent light, making him look even softer, almost fragile. His dark hair framed a face too pretty to ignore, falling messily over a pair of wide, doe-like eyes that flickered uncertainly around the room.

Taehyung could see a faint tremble in the boy's posture, a thin hand clenching the strap of his backpack as he stood beside the professor. He looked... tired. There was a haunted look in his eyes, as if he'd dragged himself out of a place most people never had to visit.