Everyone belongs with their own. | Min Yoongi FF (Being updated)

♡Warm Relief♡ |24| empty

The final notes of Kingdom Dance soared into the vaulted ceiling like the last cry of a memory. Applause broke across the ballroom, hands clapping, laughter ringing. Breathless couples slowed to a stop, catching themselves as the music slipped into silence. But Yoongi and Kyomi didn't move. For a long heartbeat, they stood still in the center of it all — surrounded by a ring of space, like even the dancers around them knew not to intrude. Kyomi's hand still rested against his shoulder. His other hand held her waist like something fragile and familiar. Her breath was uneven, cheeks flushed from more than just the dizzying dance. Their eyes met — locked. Neither spoke first.

Not until the world bled back in. The noise. The people. The pull of time. Kyomi slowly stepped back, her fingers trailing down his arm until they were no longer touching.

"I didn't know you danced like that," she whispered, her voice light, barely audible. Yoongi gave the faintest huff, his usual smirk just barely ghosting across his lips.

"I didn't know you'd still let me."

That stopped her. She blinked once, and the expression that flitted over her face was complex — part sorrow, part amusement, part unspoken ache. But before she could respond, someone clapped Yoongi on the shoulder. A staff member, cheerful and oblivious, urging him back toward the group.

He hesitated. Looked back at Kyomi. Wanted to say more. But something held him — something unsaid, heavy and growing louder. Instead, she gave him the softest nod. And he stepped away. Kyomi turned toward the edge of the dance floor, heart still pounding. Her fingers brushed her gown, smoothing a crease that didn't exist, grounding herself.

She felt eyes on her.

Her gaze flicked up — and across the ballroom, near one of the towering windows, she saw Yuri. Elegant, composed, and still. But her eyes were razor-sharp and locked directly on Kyomi. Kyomi didn't flinch. She met the stare. Calm. Cold. But inside, her stomach turned. A beat passed. Then Yuri's gaze broke first, shifting as if Kyomi were no more significant than the wine in her glass. Kyomi let out a slow breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She didn't need to be told that the evening wasn't over — not yet.

Yoongi was quieter now. The brief buzz from the dance had faded, replaced by a deeper pull in his chest. Jimin nudged him gently.

"You okay?" Yoongi didn't answer immediately. His eyes flicked across the room again — to where Kyomi had vanished into the crowd. "She still makes it hard to breathe," he muttered. "Even now."  Taehyung sipped his drink, raising a brow. "You looked like you were in a different world out there."

"Felt like it," Yoongi admitted. Namjoon, ever watching, ever assessing, leaned forward.

"You should talk to her tonight," he said, quiet but firm. "Before you lose the chance again." Yoongi didn't reply. But his gaze lingered in the direction she'd gone. And something in his jaw tightened — the look of a man deciding whether he was going to run or fight.

The soft clinking of glasses and hushed chatter faded as the lights above dimmed slightly, casting a warm glow on the podium at the front of the ballroom. A host in an elegant dark suit took the stage, their voice clear and poised over the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, if we could have your attention..."

"As part of tonight's remembrance and celebration, we will now acknowledge some of the major donations received for the National Emergency Response Fund, which was pivotal during the Daegu storm and continues to support recovery efforts for families, small businesses, and infrastructure." Yoongi stood with the members at the edge of the crowd, his drink untouched in his hand. Kyomi had just returned to her table with Minseo, flushed from the dance and still catching her breath, her gown fluttering faintly from her movement. The announcement pulled all eyes forward.