Spring Day // Kim Taehyung ( V )

Chapter 50 - finding out the truth.

Namjoon's POV

Taehyung remained unresponsive, the faint muffling of his face buried in the pillow as he clung to the blanket, settling into an almost unnatural stillness. Jungkook, persistent and eager, kept pressing for details about his and George's private conversation earlier.

"Nothing, just life," Taehyung mumbled, voice muffled, eyes closed as if to hide the turmoil beneath.

Jungkook's brow furrowed. "Come on, hyung. Be specific."

Taehyung shifted, a hint of irritation flickering before surrendering. "Jackson. Happy now?"

He pulled the pillow away from his face, revealing tired eyes, and with a subtle smirk, he kept his tone light—though the weight behind his words betrayed him.

He reached for my pillow, clutching it as if it were a shield, pressing it against his face before curling into the blanket with a quiet, resigned comfort. It struck me then—he'd forgotten where he was. This isn't his room. It's ours, Suga and mine. Yet, here he was, choosing to stay, ignoring the boundaries.

"I'm sleepy, Taehyung," I said softly, nudging him. "Move."

But he didn't respond immediately, his presence heavy with exhaustion and something else—something unspoken.

"Can I sleep here just for tonight?" he finally whispered, peeking one eye out from behind the pillow, voice fragile, almost pleading.

My instincts flared. Something was wrong—something beneath the surface. I knew it had to be about the conversation with George earlier. Taehyung wasn't like this when he was truly okay. No, this quiet despair wasn't typical. I couldn't stand to see him like this.

"Taehyung, want to talk outside?"

He didn't answer—just met my gaze, then sat up abruptly. I quickly reached out, grasping his arm, guiding him to the porch where the night air was cooler, calmer.

"What's going on?"

He hesitated, then spoke softly, voice trembling. "Nothing, hyung. I told Jungkook we didn't talk about Jackson like I said."

"So why the gloom?"

He looked down, shoulders heavy. "I don't know. Do you think I'm torturing myself?"

I didn't reply immediately. Instead, I waited, sensing the storm of emotions behind his words.

"I promised George I'd help her move on. Even if it meant seeing her cry over Jackson. I keep telling myself I'm doing the right thing, but... I don't know anymore."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every movement. "I like her so much. I hate how Jackson hurt her, how he can just—"

His voice broke. "It's maddening. I can't stop thinking about her, and I feel helpless. Like I'm drowning in feelings I can't control."

I felt a pang of guilt—this wasn't just about him. It was about us all, caught in a web of unspoken love and unfulfilled hopes. George's pain was ours too, yet none of us could do more than observe from the sidelines. We weren't the ones who loved her. Not like Taehyung, not like me.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. "Taehyung, I hate seeing you like this. But only you can decide what's right. Is this pain a punishment—or a trial? You might lose, or you might find what you're searching for. But you won't know unless you try."

He looked away, voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared, hyung. Scared I'll fall for her."

"Why is that a scary thing?"

 "Because I know she'll never love me like she does Jackson. at least not intentionally"