When the stars align

Shattered But not Alone.

As they sat across from each other, a familiar warmth settled in the room, yet beneath it, an undercurrent of something deeper, more unspoken, thrummed between them. Their exchanges had long carried the ease of companionship, yet tonight, a charged silence wove itself into the spaces between words, hinting at an intimacy neither of them had quite defined.

San tilted her head slightly, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes sharp with curiosity. "So, how was your project? I heard you were sick while working on it?"

Taehyung let out a soft chuckle, leaning back against the chair. "Only at the start. Nothing serious. But you—weren't you just telling me something about skipping meals?"

San waved a dismissive hand. "It's nothing like that. It's just... sometimes, when I'm deep in work and a deadline looms, I forget everything else. But only then!" She straightened up, adding with mock pride, "Otherwise, nothing can stop me from eating anything that comes my way—only the edible, of course."

Taehyung laughed, the sound rich and effortless, filling the space between them. "You're such a foodie. Next time, I'll bring you something you can actually eat, not flowers. Flowers don't suit your personality anyway."

San gasped in exaggerated offense, rolling her eyes before narrowing them at him. "Oh? And what exactly does that mean?"

His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned slightly closer, his voice teasing but gentle. "Flowers are too delicate. You, San, have too much energy, too much life. You need something more... substantial. Maybe an entire buffet instead?"

San crossed her arms, feigning indignation. "Ha-ha, very funny, Tae." But despite herself, she could feel a smile tugging at her lips.

She lowered her gaze, picking up her cup of tea and taking a small sip, hoping the motion would steady the quiet fluttering in her chest. Their conversations had always been easy, but lately, they carried a different weight. It was as if something unspoken pressed against the boundaries of their words, waiting to be acknowledged.

Taehyung studied her, his smile softening into something quieter, something contemplative. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, San had shifted from someone he enjoyed talking to—into someone he needed to talk to. The realization settled uneasily in his stomach. He had faced crowds of thousands, commanded stages with effortless charm, yet sitting here across from her, feeling this unspoken tension settle between them, was an unfamiliar kind of vulnerability.

San, oblivious to the intensity of his gaze, picked up a cookie and took a small bite. "So, tell me about your visit to your parents. Was it fun? Or were you too busy missing me?"

She meant it as a joke, but the way Taehyung's fingers stilled momentarily, the way his gaze flickered away before returning, made her heart stutter.

He picked up a cookie too, rolling it between his fingers before smirking. "You think too highly of yourself, San."

She raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I wouldn't be wrong, right?"

Taehyung scoffed, shaking his head, but something about his expression lingered—something unreadable. He rested his elbow on the table, his chin on his palm as he looked at her, a lazy smile playing on his lips, but his eyes... his eyes held something deeper, something warmer.

"Maybe," he murmured, voice lower than before, softer, almost as if the admission wasn't meant to be heard.

San blinked, her fingers tightening around her cup. Normally, she would have teased him back, brushed it off with a witty remark, but for once, she found herself at a loss for words.

He had always been close. But now, with the weight of his gaze pressing into her, the teasing that danced just a little too close to something real—San realized this was different.