When the stars align

Softly, Jagi

San and Pihu were gossiping when the air in the room grew heavy the moment San asked the question.

"Pihu, let's watch the wedding video. ," San said, her eyes bright with a curiosity that felt like a knife to Pihu's gut. "I want to see it - how Taehyung looked, how you and the family were. I want to see myself, how I was looking as his bride."

The color drained from Pihu's face so instantly it was as if a plug had been pulled. She fumbled with the hem of her shirt, her gaze darting toward the window. "Umm... that video is at our home in India," she managed, her voice thin.

San frowned, her head tilting. "India? Why wouldn't we have a copy here?"

"It's at... a relative's house," Pihu lied, the fabrication tasting like ash. "They wanted to watch it, and we haven't gotten it back yet.and other copies I don't know where it is."

San made a face, a mix of disappointment, but she let it go with a quiet, "Okay.I will ask Tae about that."

A few minutes later, the front door clicked open. Taehyung entered, looking weary, the weight of the day etched into the line of his shoulders. San immediately stood up, moving toward him with a natural grace she didn't yet realize was muscle memory. She took the bags from his hands to carry them into the kitchen and quickly returned with a glass of cold water.

While San slipped away toward the kids' nursery to retrieve some forgotten items, Pihu leaned toward Taehyung. Her voice was a whisper.

"She wanted to watch your wedding video,Jiju. I told her that one copy is in India and the other's I don't know where they are. She said, "she will ask you."

Taehyung froze, the glass halfway to his lips. He closed his eyes for a second, the silence stretching between them.

He said, his voice low and gravelly. "Eventually she will remember everything, though, I want her to regain her memory through the good things—the version of us that was happy—not the version that was her deepest undoing."

Pihu looked at him,with glistening her eyes . "And I want the same, that's why I haven't shared anything related to that. And the past is past now everything is good."

"For now, let her have a good time. She's got that much peace after that accident."

____________________________________________________________________________

Later that evening, the house had settled into a quiet hum. San was sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone in her hand, mindlessly scrolling but not really seeing anything. Because her mind kept wandering, tugging, to adore her husband in every way but she always held back. She thinks it is not right to look at him. He might think how shameless she is. She keep thinking when–

The bathroom door creaked open.

Taehyung stepped out, a cloud of steam following him. His hair was damp, clumps of it sticking to his forehead and the nape of his neck. He was bare-chested, a towel draped carelessly over his torso while he used another to briskly rub his hair dry.

San's breath hitched. She didn't turn away. Instead, she let her eyes travel -from the droplets of water sliding down his collarbone to the way his muscles shifted under his skin with every movement of his arm. He looked... dangerous. Hot.

She felt a sudden, sharp heat bloom in her chest, radiating downward. It wasn't just curiosity anymore. It was a visceral, hungry urge to be close to him—to bridge the gap between the man her body clearly recognized.

Taehyung stopped, noticing her intense stare. He lowered the towel, his dark eyes meeting hers. "San?"

The way he said her name, soft and questioning, made her stomach flip.