One date became two, then two became twenty, unfolding like scenes from a story neither of them could have anticipated. The months passed in a beautiful blur, each moment they shared layered with warmth and discovery. They exchanged numbers, messages, and pieces of themselves, each text or call a thread that wove their lives closer together.
On their second date, Jungkook surprised Taehyung with makguksu noodles and a plate of homemade brownies. Taehyung took one bite, savoring the flavors, and knew that Jungkook’s cooking was as special as he was. As a doctor, Jungkook was attentive and methodical, but in the kitchen, he showed a surprising creativity and skill.The makguksu became Taehyung's favorite dish—a small piece of Jungkook he could hold onto.
From then on, whenever Taehyung had a rare evening free, he’d call Jungkook, his voice hopeful. “Think you could make some of that legendary makguksu tonight?” Taehyung would ask, his tone playful but laced with hope.
Jungkook would laugh softly on the other end. “You know, Mr.Superstar, I think you’re just using me for my cooking skills.”
“Absolutely,” Taehyung would tease, “you’re onto me. So… is that a yes?”
Jungkook’s sigh was always purely for show. “Fine, but only because you ask so nicely,”
In interviews, whenever Taehyung was asked about his favorite food, his expression would soften, and he'd answer with a small, almost secretive smile. "Makguksu," he would say, the words filled with a quiet affection. "It's a simple noodle dish, but it holds a lot of meaning for me. I had it once, made by someone special... and it’s not just about the taste, it’s the thought that went into it."
The reporters would often press further, curious about who had made it for him, but Taehyung would merely grin, offering a playful shrug. "Let’s just say, it’s not something you can find in any restaurant. It’s unique. And that makes it unforgettable."
His voice would drop just a little, his gaze shifting slightly as if the memory of that moment was something only he truly understood.
But the reality of Taehyung’s unpredictable schedule often meant he couldn’t be there in person as much as he wanted. On those days, when they couldn’t meet, he would send flowers. Each bouquet held a carefully chosen message—a silent gesture for the words he couldn’t say in person. A vibrant spray of sunflowers for strength, white tulips for forgiveness after a canceled plan, soft blue hydrangeas for understanding and some red roses for.....
The flowers arrived at Jungkook’s apartment, or sometimes the hospital, with Taehyung’s brief but meaningful notes, phrases like “thinking of you” or “soon, I promise” in his familiar handwriting. With each delivery, Jungkook would feel a flutter of excitement, his fingers tracing the petals, wondering what each message truly meant.
It wasn’t just the flowers or the dishes they made for each other; it was the effort, the care they both poured into even the smallest gestures. And through every bouquet and every meal, they both felt a deeper connection growing between them, a bond that was blossoming into something neither of them could ignore.
~
The night was quiet as Taehyung drove home, the soft hum of the car engine the only sound accompanying his thoughts. It had been a long, exhausting day on set, the lights, cameras, and endless takes leaving him drained, yet his mind kept returning to one person: Jungkook.
Tomorrow was his birthday, and Taehyung had something special planned, a night full of surprises that he hoped would make Jungkook smile, a smile he had come to cherish more than anything. But there was a nagging feeling in his chest, a weight that grew heavier with every passing minute. He hadn’t replied to Jungkook’s texts all day.
