Spring Day // Kim Taehyung ( V )

Chapter 49

The silence stretched for a beat longer than expected. I stood there, caught in the weight of Taehyung's words, grappling with what he'd just told me.

Me?

His inspiration?

Why me? What could someone like me—so ordinary—possibly do to inspire someone as extraordinary as him? The thought almost seemed absurd.

"Me?" I echoed softly, still processing, disbelief creeping into my voice.

"Yes, George. You," he replied, unwavering, eyes locked onto mine. No trace of hesitation, no teasing smile—just a straightforward declaration.

I blinked. "But why? How?"

He paused, then simply said, "There's no reason. I just feel it."

No reason. Just a feeling. That's what he claimed. It sounded almost too simplistic—yet, somehow, it resonated more deeply than I cared to admit. It made me wonder if I'd misjudged him entirely.

"You're joking, right?" I tried to keep my tone light, a nervous chuckle escaping. Internal skepticism bubbled—how could someone like Taehyung, a global star, be inspired by someone like me? It seemed impossible—almost reckless.

He studied me, unblinking. "I'm serious."

The moment lingered, heavy with unspoken truths. I couldn't quite grasp how he saw me—an average girl, treading the edge of heartbreak and confusion. Did he see something in me that I couldn't see myself? Or was this just another one of his ways to lift me up, to make me feel seen?

"You're a funny guy," I finally managed, voice tinged with a nervous tease, trying to mask the swirl of emotions inside.

Taehyung's expression remained neutral, but his words carried weight. "I didn't ask you to believe me. I just wanted to tell you."

He turned and started walking ahead, leaving me behind, caught in my own thoughts.

"Wait up," I called after him, hurrying to catch the pace.

Taehyung's POV

The words echoed in my mind as I kept walking, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves they stirred. I knew George wouldn't believe me outright—that was just her nature. Still, I wanted her to understand how much she meant to me, even if it was only as a muse, a motivation.

Honestly, I don't quite call it inspiration. It's more like a quiet drive—something that pushes me each day, especially when I think of her. And Jackson... Jackson's name, honestly, it's a trigger. Every time I see George's tears or hear her mention him, it's like a surge of frustration rises within me.

I hate seeing her hurt. I hate how her eyes betray her pain, even when she tries to hide it. Her eyes—so beautiful, yet filled with sorrow. If I could, I'd take that sadness away in a heartbeat. I would.

No. I will.

The next time she looks at me, I want her eyes to reflect hope, not pain. That's my promise.

She broke the silence, voice soft but curious. "What about you, Taehyung?"

"Huh?"

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" she asked, a playful smile dancing on her lips—one I've always loved.

I chuckled. "Do you see anyone?"

She face-palmed, laughing at herself. "Well, maybe! You just have to be discreet—media would go crazy if they found out."

I laughed, amused by her imagination, but I played along. "I'd tell you if I did. I value transparency with my bandmates. No secrets."

George's intelligence always impressed me. But she's also adorable—sometimes a little naive. It's part of her charm.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine," she said, waving her hand in surrender. Her genuine smile made my heart ache—I loved seeing her like that, unguarded, carefree, before everything got complicated.

Deep inside, I cherished these moments—the way she brightened when she laughed, the way her gaze held a universe of unspoken stories. I wanted to protect her from her own pain, to erase the shadows behind her eyes. I'd do anything to make her smile without the sorrow lurking beneath.

But every time she looks at me with such intensity, I see it—the hurt she masks so well. It's in her eyes, and it stings more than words can say. If I could, I'd carry that burden for her.

She shifted the topic, a soft smile on her face. "Are you interested in anyone?"

If only I could tell her—if only I dared.

"Not sure," I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady. "There's someone I'm getting to know."

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Then why not see where it goes? Get to know her better."

I nodded, fighting the urge to reveal more. "I already am."

She grinned. "That's good! I hope she likes you too. Keep your hopes up, V. You're a good-looking guy—talented, hilarious, and kind. Just warn her you can be a bit of an ass sometimes."

Her teasing made me smile. Her words were light, but beneath that, a flicker of something more genuine. I wondered if she realized how much I wanted to tell her how I felt—how much I already do.

"Thanks," I said softly. "I hope so."

She glanced at the horizon, changing the subject. "Let's head back. They're probably worried."

I nodded, letting her lead the way. No matter how far we walk, as long as I'm with her, I don't mind the distance.

George's POV

The others gathered around, their voices bubbling with curiosity.

"Where did you guys go?" Joan asked, eyeing us with a knowing look.

"We just took a walk by the sea," I replied, trying to sound casual as I dabbed on facial cream, my mind swirling with thoughts. She then, smirked. 

"Please don't read into that." I exhaled, sensing her meaning. 

"I'm not. Just curious." she grinned.

Angela smiled, adding. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. We talked. Seriously, why make a fuss?" I insisted, voice firm despite the turbulence inside.

Michelle looked skeptical. "I can't get why you're so hung up on Jackson, when clearly Taehyung is always there to make you feel better."

I hesitated. Maybe because I love him. Maybe because I'm still lost in the wreckage of that heartbreak. Or maybe because I need someone who understands me.

"Because I love him," I finally whispered, voice trembling. "And I'm not ready to let go. Besides, Taehyung is not interested in me like that."

Joan pressed further. "How do you know he isn't?"

The question echoed in my mind. As much as I wanted to believe he did. I thought maybe he was only staying by my side because he promised to help me move on. And I didn't want to assume—didn't want to read too much into kindness or silence.

"He just isn't. Trust me." I said softly. "Let's sleep now. It's been a long day."

But the question lingered, gnawing at me. Could Taehyung really be just a friend? Or was there something more?

My mind replayed his words—Take your chances with me—and yet, I hesitated.

Why am I so afraid?

Why does his voice keep echoing in my head?

It's like a whisper that refuses to fade, and I don't know how long I can keep ignoring it.