When the stars align

Before the Distance

San sat there for a long moment after writing, watching him—the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his hand had curled slightly near the pillow, his face completely peaceful, carrying everything he always carried.

She reached out slowly, pushing his hair back from his forehead with careful fingers. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned forward and pressed the lightest possible kiss to his forehead.

She pulled back immediately, sitting stock-still for a second to make sure he hadn't stirred. He hadn't.

Exhaling a quiet sigh, she closed her diary and slipped into the kitchen to set food on the stove.

When it was ready, she woke him with a hand on his shoulder, calling his name softly twice before he moved. He sat up with the slow, disoriented dignity of someone who had desperately needed that sleep—hair standing up in every direction, eyes still half-closed.

They ate together at her small table. Taehyung slowly came back to himself between bites while San refilled his water. He complimented the food—an offhand remark that it was actually good, which landed deeper than a grand compliment would have.

Afterward, he drifted back to the bed and leaned against the headboard, reaching for his phone. San disappeared into the bathroom to freshen up.

She came back out in comfortable clothes, working moisturizer into her hands and applying lip balm with the absent focus of a routine habit. She settled onto the bed near him, leaving a deliberate gap between them.

She glanced at him. He was staring at his screen.

She looked at his face. Looked at the phone. Looked back at his face. Then she reached over and plucked the device right out of his hands.

"Hey—"

"Someone said," she declared, holding it just out of reach with exaggerated dignity, "'I want some of your time. For myself only.'" She tilted her head. "And here you are."

Taehyung looked at her, then at his empty hands, then back at her face with the expression of someone caught red-handed—annoyed, but finding it equally funny.

"I was waiting for you," he said. "You were taking forever."

"You could have asked me to hurry up." She set his phone face down on the nightstand with finality. "Now. I'm here. Talk to me."

He shifted, turning toward her properly. "Tell me more about what happened at home. With your family."

"That's about them." She twisted toward him too, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I want to talk about you and me."

He tilted his head. "What do you want to talk about?"

San pursed her lips, thinking. Before she could land on a answer, he flicked her forehead lightly.

"Ow—"

"Stop overthinking and just talk to me. Tell me something. Anything." He settled back against the headboard. "Tell me your favorite song."

She gave him a look of dramatic offense, rubbing her forehead. "'Louder Than Bombs,' 'Ranjha,' 'Pied Piper'... I love Shakira's too. And Hindi romantic songs—there are too many soulful ones to even name. I'm a music person. I listen to everything."

"Okay." He considered her. "Tell me a song that is very close to your heart."

San fell quiet for a moment.

"Like I said, I have a lot of BTS group and solo tracks, some Hindi, some English," she said, submerging into her thoughts. "But let me tell you about one of yours. I love your songs very much. Especially 'Sleep.' Just... telling you, okay?"