Spring Day // Kim Taehyung ( V )

Chapter 55

Taehyung's POV

I had reached a point where I was finally ready to speak my truth to George. It didn't matter if she didn't feel the same; I needed her to know how much she meant to me. She's become a part of my life in ways I never expected—an anchor amidst the chaos, a rare light that I'd cherish forever. No matter where life takes us, I wanted her to understand that she's left an indelible mark on my heart, one that distance could never erase. I was prepared to wait for her, silently holding onto hope, even if it was fragile and uncertain.

As I approached the water fountain, a shape caught my eye—a familiar figure seated on the bench nearby. My heart quickened. It was her. But she wasn't alone. Sitting beside her was Jackson. I paused, trying to process what I was seeing. Both of them were crying—eyes glistening, shoulders trembling. Yet, despite the tears, George's face held a gentle smile. The kind of smile that seemed both tender and resigned.

Then I saw her lean in, pressing a soft kiss to Jackson's forehead before pulling him into an embrace. My world seemed to freeze. They had reconciled. Of course they had. I should have seen it coming—had I been blind to the signs? Still, the sight of it hit harder than I expected.

A wave of self-reproach washed over me. How foolish I'd been to think I had a chance. To believe I could tell her how I felt and that she would somehow feel the same. She had her life back with Jackson—her happiness, her certainty. I was just an outsider, a passing thought, an almost-hope. The thought struck me cruelly: what was I even doing here?

My gaze drifted to the rose I'd picked earlier—an impulsive gesture, perhaps, but meaningful all the same. I held it loosely, contemplating how naive I'd been to think that simple words or small gestures could change anything.

A faint, bitter laugh escaped me, and I fought back tears, feeling both foolish and resigned. Part of me wanted to turn away, to vanish into the shadows. But I couldn't look away. I watched George, her smile returning—a quiet victory that felt hollow. She got what she wanted, after all. Happiness, perhaps. Or at least, the illusion of it.

And me? I suppose this is the end. Not with a grand gesture, but with a quiet acceptance that some things are beyond my reach. I had tried, and I had lost. Sometimes, love isn't enough, and the pain of that realization is almost too heavy to bear.

So I stand here, holding onto that fragile hope that someday, I'll find peace. But for now, I will quietly step back. This is where I surrender—not because I want to, but because I must.

My fingers hesitated over my phone for a moment before I finally pressed the call button. The line rang twice, then Jungkook's familiar voice answered, steady and deep.

"Hey, Jungkook. Sorry for calling so suddenly."

There was a brief pause on the other end before Jungkook responded, cautious but attentive. "Hyung? What's going on? Is everything alright?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of thoughts swirling inside him. "I've made a decision. I'm heading back to Seoul—first thing tomorrow. I know I left things hanging, but I need to go."

Jungkook's voice sharpened, tinged with concern. "Hold on. You're just gonna leave like that? You didn't even tell me you were planning this. What's going on? Talk to me."

I hesitated, then finally spilled out what I'd seen earlier—what had shattered the fragile hope I'd been holding onto. "I saw her. George. She was with Jackson. She finally got what she wanted. And I... I just stood there, watching everything fall apart inside me."

There was silence on the line for a moment, then Jungkook's voice, low but firm. "You can't just run back without thinking, Hyung. That's impulsive. You're not a guy to throw away everything on a whim. You need to slow down and think this through. You're better than that."

My jaw clenched. "I know what I saw. I can't ignore it. It's like... everything I believed in, everything I hoped for, just disappeared in that moment. I can't stay here knowing she's back with him, not anymore."

Jungkook's voice softened, but there was undeniable strength behind it. "Listen—sometimes what we see isn't the full story. You're rushing into something you might regret. You're not just some guy who's lost. You're more than that. Don't let your impulsiveness be the reason you lose her forever."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Jungkook's words. I knew he was right—I'd been reckless, driven by a desperate need to claim some final piece of truth. But part of him just wanted to fix what was broken, to make things right.

"I get it," Taehyung finally said, voice echoing with a mix of resolve and vulnerability. "But I have to go. Maybe I'll see her later tonight. I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way. It's too late to pretend now."

There was a pause, then Jungkook's steady voice returned. "Then do it right. Don't let your impulsiveness be your undoing. Be a man about it—face it head-on, with strength and honesty. If you're really serious about her, you owe her that much."

I exhaled slowly, a flicker of something unspoken passing through me—resistance, conviction, perhaps even hope. "Thanks, Jungkook. I needed to hear that. I'll think it through. But I'm going back tomorrow. No matter what."

"Just promise me one thing," Jungkook said, voice quiet but unwavering. "Be careful, Hyung. Don't let your feelings blind you. Sometimes, what we want isn't what we need."

I nodded, even though Jungkook couldn't see it. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, man. I'll talk to you soon."

As he ended the call, I felt the weight lift slightly—maybe it was a sign to be stronger, more deliberate. Still, the ache in my chest remained, knowing that whatever awaited me in Seoul, I wouldn't be going back the same way I came.

**

George's POV

As I stepped through the doorway, I couldn't contain a soft exhale. "I'm home," I announced, my voice carrying a mixture of relief and anticipation. The warmth of familiar faces greeted me—smiles bright enough to chase away any lingering fatigue. It felt good to be back, to be surrounded by people who cared.

Yet, amidst the cheerful buzz, my eyes instinctively scanned for one person. Taehyung. I stood still, hoping to catch the slightest glimpse of him among the crowd. But he was absent. The small pang of disappointment settled in before I could brush it off. I waited, hoping he'd appear soon, eager for that hug, that reassurance.

Joan noticed my hesitation and offered a gentle smile. "He's not here yet. He'll be here soon," she reassured, her voice soothing but tinged with an understanding that wasn't entirely comforting. Still, I nodded, trying to mask the flicker of unease that crept in.

Then Jimin's voice broke through, abrupt and serious. "He's not coming," he announced, voice edged with confusion.

The room fell silent. I blinked, the words echoing in my mind. "What do you mean?" Jin asked, voice cautious.

Jimin hesitated, then answered softly, "He said he wanted to be alone."

A cold wave of concern washed over me. Alone? That wasn't like Taehyung. He was usually open, expressive—someone who sought connection. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones, a gut instinct that told me this wasn't just about needing space.

Namjoon's brow furrowed as he asked, "Did he say where he was?"

"At the park nearby," Jimin replied, hesitant.

I hesitated, my mind racing. That's odd. I was just there earlier—just before I arrived home, I'd been at the same park. Did he —see me with Jackson? Is that why he's avoiding everyone?

A quiet whisper escaped my lips. "That might be it," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

Jimin looked at me, concern flickering across his face. "What do you mean?"

Without thinking, I made a decision. "I need to check on him," I said hurriedly, my pulse quickening. Without waiting for approval, I turned and headed toward the park, each step heavy with a mixture of worry and curiosity.

As I drew closer, I wondered what I'd find. Would he be upset? Hurt? Or simply lost in his thoughts? Whatever it was, I knew one thing—whatever was bothering him, I needed to be there. Because sometimes, silence spoke louder than words.