wonpil (ao3)
two days after the proposal, taehyung opens his door and finds a note on his doorstep, with the words 'DON'T MARRY HIM!' written in messy cursive.
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there's something familiar about the handwriting on the note, like he's seen these words - 'DON'T MARRY HIM!' - written down like this before. something in his tells him to listen to this random note, but in the end, all he does is sigh, pick it up, crumple it in his fist, then shove it into his pocket to bin later.
on his walk to work, he passes about seven bins. the note's still in his pocket when he sits down at his desk, pulls his gloves off, and lets his coworkers coo over the pretty, delicate ring on his finger.
their boss comes in soon enough, and they all disperse to go and actually work, taehyung included. he's booked solid until 11:45am, when he finally manages to plop back into his seat after three meetings and a rushed bagel catch-up with jimin from marketing in the break room.
he settles back into his chair, laptop shut, calendar unchanged since june. there's a lull in noise for a short moment, just enough time for taehyung to reach into his coat pocket, looking for some chapstick, and come out with the crumpled up note in his hand.
he doesn't know why, but something in his tells him to just - open it back up. so he does, spreading it out on his cutting mat, wiping away the wrinkles.
he definitely knows that handwriting. he'd recognise it anywhere.
he just doesn't know where, or who, it's from.
he's half-tempted to scrunch it back up again and throw it into his paper-waste basket, but something tells him to turn the note over for some reason. on the other side, in less messy, but still familiar cursive, is the words 'if you think you know who this is, come and find me on your lunch break. i'll be at your favourite café.'
'oh,' taehyung thinks, 'whoever wrote this note, you're on.'
~
his boss lets him leave for his lunch break early, considering it's his first day back after being proposed to, and it's a slow monday, anyway. he takes the elevator down with one of the interns, who takes one glance at him, gulps, then stares wide-eyed at the closed doors in silence until she reaches the fourth floor and steps out, leaving taehyung to ride down alone the last few floors. at least the elevator music is soft jazz, which may or may not have been his own doing, but still. small victories.
it's raining outside, enough to make taehyung regret not bringing his umbrella with him this morning. still, his uber pulls up in front of the building almost as soon as he steps outside.
after confirming his ride and settling back into the leather of the back seat, taehyung takes a moment to think about who his mystery note-writer could be. he has a lot of friends, and a generous handful of close ones who know what his favourite café is, so narrowing it down won't be easy. plus, it could just as easily be one of the baristas that work there, and the reason why the handwriting is familiar is because he's seen his own name written in it on the side of his cup.
he's two minutes into the journey when he decides he won't think too much about it. he'll find out whoever's waiting for him at the café in mere minutes, hopefully. it'll be a surprise.
taehyung loves surprises, he tells himself, as he looks down at his ring finger.
before he knows it, he's nine blocks away and it's stopped raining, only for the first snowfall of the year to start up. taehyung thanks his uber driver and wishes him a good day, then steps out into the flurry, the snowflakes sticking to his thick, tan peacoat, and his soft brow hair.
