Anger never builds; it only tears down. In the heat of a single moment, it can feel like strength, an armor to hide behind. But when the fire fades, all that's left are the ashes of what once mattered. Anger doesn't solve anything-it devours patienc...
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Our story didn’t end — it settled into forever.
Epilogue
Jungkook’s relationship had become a favorite topic on social media, sparking endless speculation online. Every gossip page, entertainment outlet, and forum was filled with theories—some wild, some almost accurate—but none of them ever guessed the truth.
And they wouldn’t. Because Jungkook refused to reveal Taehyung’s identity.
Not out of shame… But out of love.
He had kept the relationship private—not even a blurred photo, not even a hint—because Taehyung had quietly confessed that he didn’t want the world’s eyes following him, analyzing him, tearing apart his past and turning his pain into headlines.
And Jungkook listened. Without question. Without complaint.
Taehyung appreciated that more than he could ever express.
The sky was calm that afternoon, and the late sunlight filtered through the branches of tall trees surrounding the cemetery. A soft wind carried the faint scent of grass and dried leaves. Taehyung knelt in front of his mother’s grave, brushing away a few petals that had fallen over her name.
“Eomma… I’m doing okay now.” His voice was soft, steady, but filled with emotion. “I hope… wherever you are, you feel at peace too.”
He placed the flowers neatly, pressing a hand against the cold stone as if hoping his warmth could reach her somehow.
“We came a long way,” he said with a small, shaky laugh. “Things were hard, but… I made it.” He swallowed gently. “And I’m not alone anymore.”
For a moment, he just sat there, letting silence wrap around him.
“I don’t know how you would react if you found out that my partner is a guy,” he continued, smiling faintly. “But… knowing you, I think you’d tease me first before saying something supportive.”
He chuckled at the memory—how Kyushu used to fuss over Jungkook more than she fussed over him, how he would pout and sulk like a jealous child whenever she praised Jungkook’s good manners or handsome face.
“What's there to worry about?”
A familiar voice broke through his thoughts, warm and gentle.
Taehyung turned, blinking in surprise.
Jungkook was walking toward him, hands in his pockets, eyes soft. The wind brushed through his hair as he approached before crouching beside him.
“I'm sure Eomma would support us,” Jungkook said, offering a small smile. “She loved you more than anything. She’d just want to see you happy.”
