Speeding Into Trouble || Taekook

9

Taehyung sat across from Sara in a cozy corner of the café, questioning every single life choice that had led him to this moment.

The low hum of chatter surrounded them, but all he could hear was the voice in his head screaming, Why me, universe?

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, tapping his fingers on the table like it was some sort of stress-relief drum kit.

His eyes darted between Sara’s expectant face and the coffee cup that suddenly seemed like the most interesting object in the world.

“I’m sorry, Sara,” he began, his voice oozing fake sincerity. “I was so busy with work and everything... you know, saving the world one existential crisis at a time. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

Sara smiled warmly, her eyes practically glittering with sainthood. “It’s okay, Taehyung, really. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. I’m just glad you’re here with me now.”

Of course you are, he thought, forcing a tight-lipped smile that screamed help me.

“Yeah, I’m here now,” he said, managing to sound both polite and completely dead inside. He made a mental note to reward himself later for not bolting out the door.

Then it happened. The dreaded move. Sara reached across the table and placed her hand on his, her fingers grazing his knuckles like they were in some cheesy romance movie.

Taehyung froze, his brain going into overdrive. Abort mission. Hand-holding detected. Danger levels rising.

But instead of pulling away, he sat there like a mannequin in a department store display.

“I’ve missed you,” Sara said softly, her voice dripping with sweetness.

“Oh, have you now?” he wanted to say, but instead, he plastered on another smile.

“Yeah, I’ve... missed you too,” he replied, his tone as convincing as a bad actor in a soap opera.

The silence stretched on, and Taehyung’s mind scrambled for an escape route. He cleared his throat dramatically, like he was about to deliver an award-winning speech.

“So, uh, how’s everything been with you? Still working on that... project you mentioned last time?”

Sara’s eyes lit up. “You remember that?”

Nope, not even a little, he thought, but he nodded. “Of course,” he said smoothly, the lie sliding out as easily as butter on a hot pan.

As Sara launched into an enthusiastic explanation about something he had zero interest in, Taehyung nodded along, his soul slowly leaving his body.

His gaze drifted to the window, where he spotted a pigeon pecking at a piece of bread on the sidewalk. Lucky bird, he thought. At least you don’t have to deal with this.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for another round of small talk.

Just hang in there, Taehyung, he told himself. One more hour, and you can go home, put on sweatpants, and pretend this never happened.

_____

Meanwhile, across town, Jeongguk leaned against the shadowed side of a rundown building, looking every bit like the star of a low-budget crime drama.

His black leather jacket caught the dim light just enough to scream troublemaker, and his sharp eyes scanned the alley with the intensity of someone about to win an Oscar for Most Menacing Stare.

Opposite him stood a guy who looked like he moonlighted as a professional nervous wreck.

Hands jammed deep into his jacket pockets, the man kept glancing around like the FBI was about to bust through the walls at any second.