Invisible Affection | Taejin

34. When Enough Became Enough

If there's one thing heartbreak teaches you, it's the desperate wish never to feel it again. After the first time, you make yourself a promise, quiet and fierce, that you'll never let someone hold the power to destroy you like that again.

It becomes a kind of shield, a vow you repeat when the nights are long, and the wounds are still fresh. But hearts are soft things. And people...people heal, and in healing, they forget how bad it really was. They convince themselves that maybe this time it'll be different. Maybe this time, love won't hurt.

That's what Kim Taehyung had believed. He wanted to believe that Seokjin meant it when he said he was sorry. He hoped that things could actually improve and that truly loving someone would be enough to prevent them from hurting you again.

But it didn't.

He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows digging into his knees, hands tangled in his hair as if the pressure might somehow stop the pain in his chest. His eyes were red, but the tears had stopped a while ago. Now, he felt empty, exhausted, and angry, but mostly at himself.

He was the one who ended it. The words had come from his mouth, steady and sure. But why didn't it feel like a victory? Why did it feel like something inside him had been torn apart like he had carved the decision out of his own chest just to survive it?

Because he allowed it to reach this point, that's why.

Taehyung knew that Seokjin had hurt him in the past. He understood that letting him back into his life wasn't a safe choice. But hope, hope, was louder than reason. When Seokjin looked at him as if he still mattered, Taehyung desperately wanted to believe that he did.

But here he was once again. Another night without sleep. Another morning where every part of him felt weighed down, as if sorrow had seeped into his very bones. The silence of his apartment was deafening, but within him, chaos was heavy. Every corner of his mind echoed the same hurtful moment, Seokjin stating it so casually as if it were just another detail in life. As if saying, "I kissed someone else," was something trivial.

Taehyung had held it together in the moment. His voice didn't shake when he told Seokjin it was over. He didn't cry in front of him. But now? Now, it was all catching up to him. The quiet, everything that had to do with it. The echo of his own voice saying he was done.

It was stupid, and he knew it was stupid, but part of him still wanted to call Seokjin. To ask why. To ask how it got to this. To ask if it meant anything. But what good would it do? The damage was done, and the trust was gone. And there was no reason for him to keep pretending it didn't matter; he couldn't do it, and he wouldn't.

He looked down at his hands, trembling not from fear but from the overwhelming burden he carried. It stemmed from the pain of having loved someone deeply and being left with nothing but broken pieces. The worst part? This wasn't new or unfamiliar; he had been here before: same bed, same silence, same ache.

He thought he had learned his lesson, but love makes fools of even the best of us. Now, once again, he was left to deal with the aftermath, and it hurt like hell.

******

A sudden knock at his bedroom door made Taehyung's entire body go rigid. His breath caught in his throat, suspended between dread and resignation. He already knew who it was—or who it had to be. It could only be either Jungkook or Seokjin. Right now, he didn't want to see either of them. Especially not Seokjin.

Just as he was about to compose himself and respond, the door handle turned, and the door creaked open. Of course, he had left it unlocked. He hadn't been thinking straight; his mind was too numb and too wrecked to focus.