Melancholy

Wane

~The Night We Met:-(Lord Huron)~
.
.
.
Taehyung’s POV

The hum of the airplane was oddly comforting, like the world itself was trying to hush my heart into calmness. I sat still, staring blankly at the seatback in front of me, fingers lightly grazing the small silver moon pendant around my neck. The same one he gave me three years ago. My last thread to him.

Jungkook.

Just thinking his name still made my heart stutter. The last time I saw him, his hair had been soft blonde — messy, glowing under the sunlight as he stood by Namjoon-hyung’s car. He’d smiled that faint, heartbreaking smile of his, the one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His hand had pressed against the window until the airport glass swallowed me whole. I didn’t know then that it would be the last time for so long.

For a while, his letters kept me alive. One every few weeks, always ending with, I’m trying, pup. For us.
Even when the visits stopped, I told myself he was just busy. Namjoon-hyung said he was starting a business, that he barely slept. I believed it. I had to. Because believing meant there was still hope — and hope was the only thing I had left of him.

But then the letters stopped too. The silence grew thicker with each passing month until it wrapped around me like a fog I couldn’t escape. Still, I never stopped writing. Maybe he read them. Maybe he didn’t. I wrote anyway — because love doesn’t vanish just because distance grows.

The seatbelt light blinked on. The pilot’s voice echoed through the cabin, announcing our descent. My heart raced. Three years abroad, one year since I’d last seen him, and I was finally coming home.

“Ya, sleeping beauty,” I muttered, nudging Jimin’s arm. “We’re about to land.”

“Five more minutes,” he groaned, his voice muffled in the pillow.

I chuckled, shaking my head. Typical Jimin.

The plane tilted, Seoul stretching out beneath us, glittering like a dream. I pressed my forehead to the window and whispered, “I’m coming home, Kookie.”

Would he be there? Would he remember? Would he still want me?

---

The airport was loud and alive, bursting with travelers and laughter. Jimin walked ahead, practically vibrating with excitement, while I lagged behind, scanning every face in the crowd.

“Tae! Jimin!”

I looked up and instantly broke into a grin. Namjoon-hyung stood waving from the other end of the arrivals gate, flanked by Jin-hyung, Yoongi-hyung, and Hoseok-hyung.

The moment we reached them, I was swallowed by hugs, laughter, and the kind of warmth only family could bring. Jin fussed over my skin tone, Yoongi teased me about my hair, and Hoseok nearly blinded me with his megawatt smile.

“Welcome home!” Jin sang, pulling me into another hug.

I laughed, but my eyes wandered — searching. For him.

Namjoon-hyung’s gaze flicked toward me, reading me too easily. He didn’t say a word, just placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezed. That small gesture said everything.

I forced a smile. Maybe Jungkook was busy. Maybe he’d show up at the house later.

The car ride home was filled with noise and laughter — Hoseok arguing with Yoongi about playlists, Jimin humming under his breath, Jin leaning into Namjoon’s shoulder. But beneath it all, my chest ached with quiet hope.

When we finally pulled into the driveway, the sound of cheering hit before the door even opened.

“WELCOME HOME!”