One shots | Kim Taehyung

When he doesn't love you

It was a morning woven with the soft glow of the rising sun, its golden light filtering through the kitchen window, caressing the world outside. The warmth of the day had barely begun, but within the cozy confines of your home, the scent of freshly prepared breakfast lingered in the air.

There, in your element, you worked quietly, your movements graceful as you flipped pancakes, steamed eggs, and sliced fruit. It was a routine you had grown fond of - the act of lovingly preparing meals for the man who had become your everything.

Kim Taehyung, your husband of six months, was not one to indulge in the usual morning rituals. Coffee, a drink that many craved, was not his choice.

He preferred healthy, homemade dishes, a preference that had slowly become part of the rhythm of your life together.

A good wife, you had made it your mission to ensure his every need was met, and today was no different. You would prepare his breakfast, and his lunch would be ready shortly after.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, pulling you out of your quiet concentration. You turned to see Taehyung, his figure standing tall in his office attire - a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and the sleek elegance of his usual office wear.

His gaze met yours, his features unreadable as always. He was reserved, always so distant, but his eyes softened slightly when they landed on you.

"Good morning," you greeted, your voice warm, brimming with affection. You flashed him a smile, but there was a subtle hint of longing in your gaze.

"Good morning," he replied, his tone as steady and calm as ever, but without the warmth you yearned for.

You turned back to the kitchen, trying to hide the ache that grew in your chest. The silence between you both was thick, more tangible than the space you shared.

Taehyung sat at the breakfast table, his focus on his meal, the clinking of his utensils filling the quiet. He ate alone, as he often did. Your presence in the room, though constant, felt like a quiet echo.

You worked, preparing his lunch with a tenderness that spoke louder than any words could.

The time came for him to leave. You were sitting in the living room, watching him adjust the collar of his coat, his fingers nimble as they fastened it with practiced ease.

Your heart swelled with a complex mix of love and sorrow as you watched him - a man you knew so deeply, yet one who felt like a stranger at times.

As he reached for the door, you stood, the movement automatic, almost as if your soul knew what to do before your body did. You walked softly toward him, your heart fluttering in anticipation.

There, by the door, you paused just a breath away, close enough to feel the warmth of his presence, yet distant enough to feel the chasm between you two.

He stopped, turned, and looked at you, his gaze almost expectant, as though waiting for something. It was a gesture you had come to recognize over the months of marriage - the quiet request for reassurance, for something more, though never spoken aloud.

You stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest, and gently rested your hand on his arm. His gaze flickered down to where your hand touched him, but he didn't speak.

With a soft sigh, you leaned up and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek - the same kiss you had given him countless mornings, though it now felt like a fragile thread connecting you both.

You pulled back slowly, meeting his gaze once more.

"Take care, Taehyung," you whispered, your voice catching in the quiet space between you.