One shots | Kim Taehyung

Dancing in silence Part 7 | KTH

The sky that morning wore a soft shade of promise—light blue with wisps of cotton-white clouds drifting slowly, like dreams lingering after dawn. The apartment was filled with the faint scent of cinnamon toast and freshly brewed coffee, and in the warmth of your home, so much had changed. So much had bloomed.

You stepped out of the bedroom in your cotton cardigan, your hair loosely tied back, eyes still puffy from last night's study nap. Your eyes fell instantly on the table. A neatly arranged breakfast plate. A small bouquet of spring peonies in your favorite shades. And a letter beside it.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you opened the envelope.

"To my fighter,
You've made it to the last day.
Whatever your result is, just know—I've already seen you succeed.
Today, let me celebrate not the end of exams... but the beginning of everything you were meant to be."
—Taehyung

Your chest filled with a quiet ache, one that tasted like love and gratitude and disbelief all wrapped into one breathless feeling.

"Good morning, pretty girl," came his voice, soft and thick with sleep, from the hallway. You turned to see him, still in his robe, rubbing his eyes, hair tousled and perfect in the most disarming way.

You smiled. "You wrote me a letter."

He walked over, kissed your forehead, and pulled you into a gentle hug. "I always write to the most important milestones. And you, Y/N, are all of mine."

You leaned against him, your cheek on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. "I don't even know how to say thank you anymore."

"You already do," he murmured, "every time you smile at me like this."

"I couldn't have done this without you," you whispered.

"Yes, you could've," he said, brushing your hair back. "You just needed someone to believe it first. I was lucky to be that someone."

The hours passed softly. Taehyung drove you to your university for the last exam, waiting in the hallway while you took it. He greeted you afterward with a small, hand-drawn banner that read 'Almost a Master. Always a masterpiece.' and a vanilla cake packed into a small lunchbox.

He kissed your cheek. "Now, how about we spend the evening as a celebration of your brain... and mine?"

You laughed into his shoulder. "You're such a sap."

"And yet you married me."

That night, after dinner, he pulled you onto his lap on the couch and gave you tiny surprises—an anklet shaped like a ribbon, tickets to a ballet show, and a collection of your favorite candies arranged in the shape of a heart.

"I love you in ways I haven't even figured out how to explain yet," he said, kissing the inside of your wrist. "But I'll spend a lifetime trying."

And you, speechless, could only hug him tighter.

---

But today, nerves had returned to lace your spine.

The Spring Showcase was two weeks away, and the studio air was thick with adrenaline. You stood in front of the mirror, tying the ribbon around your waist, your reflection half-shadowed by doubt. Minjun, your partner, came up behind you, grinning.

"You've got this, Y/N," he said. "You're the strongest dancer in this room."

You nodded, your smile polite but faint. "I hope so."

"Your movements have heart," he added. "It's like watching poetry."

Unseen to you, a figure stood outside the glass window of the studio, arms crossed, eyes unreadable.