The Omega's Choice | Taejin

Forty-One

The evening was calm and quiet at Seokjin's home after Taehyung had left. Outside, the palace remained busy, but news had already spread throughout the kingdom. People whispered about Taehyung's return in the markets and among servants, passed cautiously from one mouth to another. To the people, his presence meant that order had been restored. Even the guards stationed at Seokjin's doors stood taller, reassured simply by the knowledge that Taehyung had crossed the gates again.

For Seokjin, his return meant something far more complicated, something his heart had not yet learned how to hold.

Upstairs, the faint trace of Taehyung's scent lingered, as though the walls themselves had absorbed it. Seokjin raised his hand to his wrist without thinking, brushing the spot where Taehyung had gripped him earlier. Even with their bond broken, that memory burned like a mark that refused to fade.

He sat near the fire, but the flickering flames gave little warmth. The soft crackle of burning wood did nothing to ease the anxious tightness in his chest. He hated how easily Taehyung could unravel him. Just one meeting, a few confident words, and the defenses he had built over the past year felt brittle and ready to collapse.

As the hours passed, Seokjin moved to the bed, his shoulders drooping, his hands resting softly in his lap. He longed for sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, Taehyung returned to him in memory. He could hear his voice, sense his presence, and feel that same unshakable hold pressing in around him.

At last, he leaned back against the pillows, the cool fabric brushing his skin. He closed his eyes and told himself that perhaps the stillness of the night would coax sleep to him. Outside, the large estate had fallen into quiet under the stars. Guards at the front doors stood in rigid silence, their shapes faint in the dim torchlight. Inside, everything seemed to have stopped. The stillness wrapped around him, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the soft breeze beyond the windows, reminding him that life carried on outside those walls.

That was when the door opened.

Seokjin's eyes snapped open.

Taehyung stood in the doorway, his figure filling the room as though he had never left. For a long moment, he said nothing, only watched, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

Seokjin sat up quickly, his chest tightening. "What are you doing here?"

Taehyung stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He seemed calmer than before. "I tried to leave," he admitted, his voice quiet and worn. "I made it all the way to the gates, but then I turned back. I couldn't bring myself to walk away."

The confession struck deeper than any claim could. Seokjin's throat went dry. He had braced himself for more demands, but not this.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, though the words trembled.

"And yet I am," Taehyung said as he walked slowly across the room, the atmosphere filled with unspoken feelings. He stopped just a breath away from Seokjin, close enough that Seokjin could feel his warmth. Taehyung raised his hand, not to grab or hold him, but to gently move a strand of hair away from Seokjin's face. The tenderness of the gesture surprised him more than any display of power.

Seokjin felt a sudden tightness in his throat. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can't stop wanting you," Taehyung said simply. "Even when I try, even when I think I should. I know I was demanding earlier, but it's because of how I feel."

The fire crackled faintly, filling the silence. Seokjin's lips parted, but no sound came.

Taehyung's hand lowered, resting lightly at his jaw, tilting his face upward. The touch was steady, more question than demand. "I'll go," he said softly, "if you tell me you feel nothing."