When a so called bad boy fall in love with a kind hearted boy..and his love lead him to his own self that was once buried deep in his mind.. But will he be able to treasure his love Or again lose everything?
For all my hopeless romantic readers thi...
Taehyung walked into his house that evening with heavy steps, the words he had overheard still echoing like broken glass inside his mind.
His sister was cheerful, almost smug, as if she had done him a favor by arranging the meeting. She didn’t notice the way his shoulders sagged or the way his eyes burned.
When their father appeared, everything collapsed.
“You embarrassed us today,” his father’s voice was sharp, unforgiving. “The boy’s family is already saying you’re unsuitable. Plain. Good-for-nothing.”
Taehyung’s lips trembled, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say.
“You don’t deserve to carry my name,” his father continued, his words a whip. “From this moment, you’re no longer my son. Leave this house.”
His sister gasped, she tried to intervene, but the man’s decision was final. The walls of their home, once suffocating but familiar, now felt like they were closing in. Taehyung’s chest tightened; he couldn’t breathe.
He left. Quietly.
Outside, the street was dimly lit. Taehyung clutched his small bag, his eyes blurred with unshed tears. He didn’t know where to go. He only knew he couldn’t stay.
And then—
A familiar voice. Calm. Steady.
“…Tae.”
He turned, startled, to find Jungkook leaning against the wall near the gate. He had been waiting. His dark eyes studied Taehyung, not with pity, but with something stronger — something that looked like unspoken resolve.
“You heard?” Taehyung’s voice cracked, shame dripping through each syllable.
Jungkook didn’t nod, didn’t shake his head. He only stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “You don’t have to explain.”
For a heartbeat, Taehyung wanted to crumble — to admit how much it hurt, how it felt like being uprooted from everything he had ever known. But pride and fear held him back. He just shook his head, his lips pressed into a trembling line.
Jungkook reached out, not touching, but close enough that Taehyung could feel the warmth of his presence. “Come with me,” Jungkook said simply.
Taehyung blinked. “Where?”
“My place.” Kook’s tone was firm, leaving no room for doubt. “You don’t have to be alone tonight.”
Taehyung hesitated, torn between pride and need. But the thought of wandering empty streets with nowhere to go terrified him more than his own stubbornness. He lowered his gaze, and silently, he nodded.
---
Jungkook’s apartment was nothing like Taehyung’s home. It was dimly lit, filled with scattered canvases, cameras, and books — chaotic, but strangely warm. The scent of turpentine and old coffee lingered in the air.
“Sit,” Jungkook said, motioning to the couch. He moved quietly, pulling out a blanket, setting a glass of water on the table. His hands were rough, paint-stained, but his movements were careful, almost protective.
Taehyung sat stiffly, still clutching his bag. His eyes darted around, overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all.
Kook watched him for a moment, then crouched slightly so he could meet Taehyung’s gaze. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
The words undid something inside Taehyung. His throat tightened, his breath shaky. And for the first time that day, he let himself break. Tears slipped down his cheeks silently, his shoulders trembling.
Jungkook didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell him to stop crying. He didn’t lecture or comfort with empty words. Instead, he simply sat beside him, close enough for Taehyung to feel the quiet strength radiating off him.
When Taehyung’s sobs finally subsided, he leaned against the couch, exhausted. His voice was barely a whisper. “Why are you… why are you being so kind to me?”
Jungkook turned his head, studying him. His lips curved in the faintest, gentlest smile.
“…Because I don’t like seeing you cry.”
Taehyung froze, breath caught in his chest. The honesty in Jungkook’s voice disarmed him completely.
In that silence, something shifted — fragile, unspoken, but real.
And though neither of them said the word, both knew that from this night on, their story had changed.
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Only if you could see yourself through my eyes The stars would fade and the moon would felt torn You who carry poetries within yourself I am willing to recite you until the end -JJK
I hope you are loving the story. I will try to update frequently.
