Destiny's love

Part- 34

Author's POV

Chapter: Close Enough to Touch🕯️

Setting: That Kind of Night

The city outside was quiet, dimly glowing with distant traffic and the occasional breeze rustling through the trees.

The girls had been invited over for a calm, no-pressure evening — not flashy, not dramatic. Just warmth, music, maybe some food... and something unspoken between them.

🖤 Jungkook & Hayoung — His Apartment

Hayoung stood by Jungkook's kitchen island, fingers curled around a mug of warm tea. Jungkook was across from her, in a loose oversized hoodie, eyes focused — but not on the tea.

"You always make tea like it's a ceremony," she said softly.

"Maybe because it gives me an excuse to stay still," he replied, voice lower than usual. "When you're here... I don't want to rush anything."

She looked up.
The room was lit only by the soft yellow of his floor lamp, casting shadows that made everything feel slower, softer, safer.

Jungkook stepped closer, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"You really wore my hoodie," he murmured, noticing the black hoodie draped on her. "Looks better on you."

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"You make it hard not to feel things I shouldn't."

He stepped even closer — close enough for his breath to hit her lips. But he didn't touch her. Not yet.

"Then feel it," he whispered. "Whatever it is."

Their eyes locked — and for a second, the silence felt like thunder.

He leaned in slowly — but just as their lips nearly brushed, his phone buzzed from the counter.

The moment broke.

Jungkook chuckled, a little frustrated, a little breathless.

"Maybe the universe's way of saying... not yet."

Hayoung smiled, heart racing.

"Maybe. But soon."

❤️ Taehyung & Nayoung — His Place, Music Room

Taehyung's apartment was warm, earthy. Jazz playing low from a speaker. A sketchbook left open on the coffee table. He had just finished showing Nayoung his newest paintings.

She stood now, examining one on the wall — soft brushstrokes of a red silhouette in a rainy alley.

"It looks like her," she said.

"Who?"

"Whoever's on your mind when you paint."

He walked over and stood beside her.

"It's not who. It's when."

"When?"

"When I met you. That red saree. That smirk you tried to hide. I haven't been able to paint anything else since."

Her breath caught.

"You don't even know me, Tae."

He turned, eyes dark and quiet.

"I know you're guarded. I know you speak sharp, but mean kind. And I know... I haven't wanted someone to stay in a long, long time."

She looked away, heart racing.