Volume 1
[𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥]
❝𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐧, 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞❞
Top Taehyung
Bottom Jungkook
⌇
"Taehyung, Promise your mother, that you will not marry Jeon Jungkook at any cost.
I accept the deàth rather...
Don't forget to hype up the chapter and your MIA author 😼
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Soomin knelt by the open closet, her fingers brushing against the thick, leather-bound photo album that had slipped from the shelf. She hadn't intended to revisit old memories, but something compelled her to sit down with it in her lap.
Her hands traced over the worn cover, and with a quiet sigh, she opened it.
Inside, pages were filled with snapshots of her children over the years, photos capturing precious moments. The first few pages brought back fond memories, images of her youngest son, Yeonjun, with his sunny smile and Jimin, posing in every picture.
But as she continued, Soomin's smile slowly softened, and a different feeling settled over her.
There, on one of the earlier pages, was a picture of Taehyung as a small boy—his hair slightly tousled, his eyes already carrying a calm gaze.
She flipped through more pages, searching for photos of him laughing or playing freely like his siblings. But Taehyung was rarely at ease, always seeming to be standing just a bit apart, his posture balanced, his expression collected.
In family portraits also, he stood close but never leaned in, his little hand often placed at his side rather than around a sibling or parent. A few photos showed a young Taehyung with a small, reserved smile, but there was something that kept him apart—an invisible wall even Soomin hadn't noticed at the time.
The early pictures of Taehyung were a bittersweet clarity to her that how he had always been different, a little more composed, a little more guarded than his siblings.
She brushed her fingers over a photo of a young Taehyung at what must have been only five or six years old. He stood beside Yeonjun, who was a toddler at the time, reaching up to hold Taehyung's hand with a mischievous grin. Taehyung, on the other hand, wore an expression that seemed almost out of place for a child so young: calm, steady, and vigilant.
Soomin couldn't help but think back to how mature Taehyung had been even as a little boy.
Unlike Jimin and Yeonjun, who would run through the halls and make up games on the spot, Taehyung had been reserved, more thoughtful. He'd sit quietly during family dinners, speaking only when spoken to, watching everyone with that careful gaze.
When Yeonjun had knocked over a vase, it was Taehyung who, at just six years old, had taken the blame without a word of protest. She remembered his small frame, standing stoically as his father scolded him, never once saying it had been Yeonjun who'd accidentally broken it.
A lump formed in her throat as she continued to look at each image, her hands trembling slightly. She could see now what she hadn't fully understood then—the weight Taehyung had carried from such an early age, the silent burden of being the eldest son.
