Spring Day // Kim Taehyung ( V )

Chapter 20

Taehyung's POV

I realize I might have come across as a jerk to George—maybe even more than once. Lately, I've been reflecting on it, and I think the best course of action is to keep my distance. Not just because I want to avoid complicating things, but because I need to control what's been brewing inside me. I never wanted those feelings to grow, to take hold.

And now, I've accepted that I was fooling myself for a while. I can't deny it anymore: I like George.

It's strange how some dismiss love at first sight as a myth. I used to think so too—until I experienced it myself. That instant when I saw her, there was something undeniable about the way I felt. No rational explanation. Just an immediate, powerful pull. I fell for her at first glance.

But I fought it. Tried to push it aside, convincing myself I shouldn't get involved. I'm her best friend's brother, for goodness' sake. Not only would dating her be complicated, but I also believed she wouldn't feel the same. It seemed impossible—so I told myself to forget it. To be content with just liking her from afar.

She's with Jackson now. That's reason enough to keep my distance. I didn't want to make things awkward for her or give her any hints about my feelings. I just wanted to stay clear.

Then Jungkook caught me off guard. "You really stick to your word, huh?" he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. I'd told him I'd avoid George from now on. Not that he supported the idea.

He surprised me by admitting he had a slight crush on her, which made the situation a little uncomfortable. For a moment, the air between us shifted. Confessing feelings isn't something we usually do—at least, not over a girl. But we both moved past it. Neither of us is the kind of guy to fight over someone.

"Relax," I said, trying to brush it off. "You're relieved, right? One rival down—Jackson's left."

Jungkook shrugged, a smirk on his face. "A crush is one thing. Liking someone's another matter entirely."

He had a point. I couldn't deny that.

He looked at me thoughtfully. "Honestly, I don't think you should just avoid her altogether. If she can't be your girlfriend, maybe she can be your friend. A real one. Best friend, even."

His words lingered. 'Avoid'—that word felt like a barrier. Would it really help if I just kept my distance? Or would it make things harder? I'd never had a girl as a best friend before. Was it worth trying?

Would it hurt to try? I wondered. What if Jungkook was right? Maybe I should give this a shot. After all, I've known her for nearly three weeks—more than enough time to understand who she is. She met both of us on the same day, so I can't ignore the fact that Jackson also has a connection with her.

"Start tomorrow," Jungkook said with a confident grin. "You invited her, right?"

I exhaled slowly. His encouragement was unexpected but appreciated. It made me reconsider my choices.

He chuckled, punching my arm lightly. "Come on, bro. We're the 'international playboys,' remember? We've got charm on our side."

I let out a small, reluctant laugh and sank back onto my bed. Maybe I'd lost some of that confidence I once had. But beneath it all, I knew Jungkook was right. I needed to see where this could go—whether as a friend or something more. Because denying my feelings isn't solving anything. It's just making me restless.

Where is the Taehyung everyone used to know—the one who embraced life with boldness and certainty? Maybe it's time to find him again, even if the road ahead feels uncertain.

****

George's POV

Today is the day I've been dreading. Or perhaps, the day I've convinced myself to face—for Taehyung's sake. No, that's not entirely true. It's more for me. I've been caught in this strange whirlwind of anticipation and hesitation, and honestly, I'm not sure how I ended up here. The weight of regret begins to settle, slow and heavy.

I let out a quiet sigh as I sit up, wishing I could fast-forward through the hours ahead. I want it to be over already. But fate doesn't seem to be on my side today. Resigned, I tell myself, "Just get it over with."

My reflection in the mirror shows a simple outfit—nothing flashy, just enough to keep things low profile. I've never been one for grand entrances, and today is no exception. Who am I trying to impress, really? I quickly apply a minimal touch of makeup, then head downstairs, trying to gather my nerves before facing the others.

As I step into the living room, the familiar voice cuts through my thoughts. "Dressed up just to see me, huh?" Taehyung's smirk is confident, almost playful, as he leans casually against the doorway.

Of course he's here. Back to that cocky, teasing version of himself. Part of me isn't surprised—if anything, I've grown used to it. Still, I keep my expression neutral.

"I came to see everyone," I reply, voice steady but cool, as I move toward the shoe rack. I grab my shoes, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

He steps closer, voice softer but still laced with that teasing edge. "You look pretty."

I catch the faintest sound of sincerity there, but he doesn't meet my gaze. Instead, he keeps his eyes on me, waiting for my response.

"You don't look bad yourself," I say, a small smirk forming. If Taehyung wants to play the confident one, I might as well give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, he started this, so he can be the one to finish it.

I can feel the tension hanging in the air, a quiet challenge passing between us. Neither of us moves for a moment, as if waiting for the other to break the silence. I tighten my grip on the strap of my bag, trying to steady my nerves.

Taehyung's smirk widens, but there's a flicker of something else behind his eyes—maybe curiosity, or a hint of vulnerability he rarely shows. Still, he masks it quickly, leaning back against the wall as if he's in control.

"So," he says casually, "what's the plan for today?"

I hesitate, glancing away briefly. Days like this, I wonder if he really cares about the answer—or if he's just trying to fill the silence with his usual bravado. I take a breath, deciding to keep my tone even.

"Nothing special. I should be asking you that."

He shrugs, a nonchalant gesture. "Same thought."

There's a softness in his voice that's almost unexpected, but I quickly brush it aside. I don't want to read into it, not now. Not when I'm already feeling so exposed.

I reply carefully, "we'll see how it goes."

The corner of his mouth twitches in that familiar half-smile. And in that moment, I realize that beneath the bravado, there's a genuine part of him that's still the same—someone I used to know, someone I still don't quite understand.

But today isn't about understanding. It's about survival—keeping my composure, holding my ground, and maybe, just maybe, finding a way to leave this encounter with a little more clarity than I arrived with.