Spring Day // Kim Taehyung ( V )

The final chapter

I hurried back to the park, every step fueled by a desperate urgency to find him. The sprawling expanse of the place felt like an endless maze, yet I pushed on, each breath sharper than the last. Could he really have gone? It seemed almost impossible, but doubt gnawed at me—an insidious whisper that refused to quiet.

He saw me back there with Jackson. I knew he did. No coincidence could explain that. That's why he wouldn't show up today; deep down, I understood. I had to be right.

I loathed the thought of us spiraling into this pit of misunderstanding, of silence and assumptions. He needed to know the truth—truth that I knew was fragile, yet vital. What we shared was starting to feel real, tangible in a way I hadn't allowed myself to admit before. At least, to me, it was.

Then, amidst the shadows and the faint glint of sunlight, I saw him—familiar, yet painfully distant. Sitting by the fountain, head bowed, shoulders tense. His presence still radiated a quiet strength, a delicate beauty that shimmered through the subtle light. Relief flooded through me—a flicker of hope that this moment could be the turning point. The chance to reveal what I'd only just come to understand.

There's still a possibility, I told myself. To tell him what I truly felt, what I'd realized in these uncertain days. He had to understand—the encounter with Jackson was not about betrayal, but about clarity. I didn't want to go back to Jackson. That wasn't the path I chose.

I took a breath, and with tentative steps, I approached him.

"Weather's nice, isn't it?" I managed, voice softer than I intended, settling beside him.

He looked up briefly, eyes clouded with confusion, yet shadows of sadness lingered deep within. "What are you doing out here? Stalking me?" I teased, attempting levity.

A faint smile flickered on his lips—small, uncertain. "Nah, I was just passing by," he replied, voice restrained, avoiding my gaze.

"Taehyung?" I called gently.

He looked back, hesitant. "Hm?"

There was a pause before I spoke again, my voice trembling with vulnerability. "There's something I need to tell you."

Here goes nothing, I thought.

"This past few weeks—" I began, but he cut me off sharply.

"I know. I saw," he said, void of emotion, almost detached.

"What—" I started, stunned.

"I saw you both," he interrupted, voice flat yet edged with pain. "And, honestly, that shit hurts." A bitter laugh escaped him. "I thought what we had was real, you know?"

I listened, heart pounding. He needed to release this, needed to say what was on his mind. I owed him that much.

"I thought maybe—maybe we were becoming something," his voice softened, tinged with regret. "But that was dumb of me to believe. I apologize."

Guilt settled heavily in my chest as I watched him. He didn't deserve this pain. Not from me.

"Anyway—I'm leaving first thing tomorrow," he said, voice steady but strained.

My heart sank. He was already making this decision—just after seeing Jackson and me. The speed, the decisiveness, without a word to me—it stung more than I expected. Yet, somehow, I understood.

"Leaving?" I echoed, voice cracking.

"Yeah. I need to," he answered, a sad smile flickering across his face.

"Why?" I asked, tears threatening to spill.

He hesitated, then looked at me with a mixture of longing and sorrow. "Because... I don't want to get in your way of happiness."