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

Soft Safeness |25|

Song of the chapter - Siren Sounds (Tate McRae)

The further they walked, the quieter everything became — not just around them, but within them. The thick canopy of the garden gave way to something more intimate, more sacred. Ahead, a long arched trellis bloomed with climbing wisteria and jasmine, the air rich with their scent — sweet, earthy, alive. Twinkling fairy lights were strung delicately through the arch, weaving in and out of the greenery like stars caught in vines. The world narrowed into this one path, enclosed and ethereal. The music of the ball faded behind thick hedges and walls of leaves. Just the faint taps of cooling rain and the shuffle of their footsteps remained.

Kyomi stopped first, her hand gently pulling back on Yoongi's. She stared up into the flowers, silver glimmers of light dancing across her cheeks. She looked like something out of a dream — not because she was perfect, but because she was real. Fragile. Fierce. Still healing.

"This place..." she whispered. "It doesn't feel like Daegu."

"No," Yoongi said quietly. "It doesn't." He stepped closer to her — not in a rush, but in recognition. Of the ache between them. Of everything that had remained unsaid for too long. The lights caught the edges of her lashes as she blinked up at him. Her hands were clasped lightly in front of her, unsure.

Yoongi reached out, brushing his fingers over hers until they untangled. He took her hands gently, letting his thumbs stroke the soft curve of her knuckles.

"Why do I feel like I've dreamed this before?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the breeze.

"Maybe we both did," he murmured.

A pause. Time stretched. Then he leaned in — not abrupt, not forceful. A question written in the space between them.

And Kyomi answered by rising slightly on her toes.

Their lips met in silence, not with urgency, but with reverence. The kiss was soft, unsteady at first — like two people remembering something precious they'd once lost. Like someone exhaling after holding their breath too long. Yoongi's hand came up to cradle her jaw, his thumb brushing along the line of her cheek, grounding himself in the reality of her. She was here. She was warm. She was kissing him back with all the fragile strength of someone letting herself believe again.

Kyomi let herself melt into it, one of her hands clutching at the fabric of his suit near his chest, as if anchoring herself to him. Her lashes fluttered against his skin when they broke apart briefly for breath.

Her voice trembled when she whispered, "I didn't think I'd ever get this back."

He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing her in. "I didn't think I deserved it."

"Maybe we're both wrong," she said.

Another kiss — this one slower, deeper. Time bent around them. The lights, the flowers, the faint rain... none of it mattered in comparison. And when they finally stilled, she rested her head lightly against his shoulder, his arms gently encircling her. No words were needed. The air itself had shifted. Under the weight of everything they'd lost — and everything they might still gain — they stood in silence. And for the first time in what felt like forever, it didn't hurt to hope.

In this shirt - The Irrepressibles

The return to the ballroom was quiet, not hesitant — but aware.

Kyomi and Yoongi walked side by side, their hands brushing but not yet clasped. The soft thrum of the music returned like a tide as they passed back through the tall garden doors. The golden light inside was warmer now, the air filled with the low hum of guests laughing over champagne flutes, slow-dancing across the lacquered floors. But neither of them looked around. They moved like a tethered current, together and apart, both steady and charged. It wasn't showy — no dramatic entrance, no fanfare. But when they reached the BTS table tucked into a corner of the ballroom, heads turned.