Taehyung's POV
The text from Jungkook had been a small, innocent thing, a casual check-in. Yet, it had settled a frantic buzz in Taehyung's mind. He'd replied, of course, keeping his own words light, but the feeling of relief was undeniable. It was getting harder to ignore the way Jungkook's presence, even just a name on a screen, shifted his entire mood.
He found himself glancing at his phone more often, a subtle, almost unconscious habit. He'd catch himself smiling at a private joke only Jungkook would understand, or thinking about something Jungkook had said. It was a pleasant distraction, a vibrant new color in his everyday life. He tried to rationalize it – it's just an old friend, rekindling a lost connection. Nothing more. But the rationalization felt flimsy, like cheap fabric.
He was sitting across from Jennie at their usual Sunday brunch spot. The sun streamed through the window, illuminating her neat bun and the elegant curve of her neck. She looked beautiful, composed, effortlessly perfect. They were discussing renovations for a new project she was working on, her voice calm and analytical.
"...and I think we can optimize the flow in the living area by moving that wall, but it will affect the structural integrity of the upper floor...."
Taehyung nodded, feigning interest, but his mind drifted. He remembered Jungkook mimicking an old teacher's stern voice in the art café, making Taehyung snort coffee out his nose. He remembered the way Jungkook's hand had briefly brushed his when they picked up their drinks, sending a faint jolt through him.
"Taehyung?"
He blinked, pulling himself back. "Hm? Sorry, love. Just thinking about a new ad campaign concept."
Jennie gave him a soft, understanding smile. "It's okay. You've seemed a bit preoccupied lately. Work piling up?"
He felt a flush creep up his neck. "Something like that," he mumbled, taking a sip of water. He hated lying to her, even by omission. But how could he explain the inexplicable pull, the chaotic joy that now seemed to orbit around Jungkook?
Later that evening, as they were winding down for the night, Jennie curled up beside him on the sofa, scrolling through social media. "Oh, look!" she said, her voice bright. "Your friend, Jungkook? He posted a picture from that new art café. The one you mentioned wanting to try last week." She showed him her phone – a perfectly aesthetic shot of the café's interior, artfully blurred in the background, with a half-empty coffee cup in the foreground.
Taehyung's heart thumped. "Oh, yeah. He, uh, he told me about it. Looks nice."
Jennie peered at him, a subtle change in her expression. "You know," she mused, her tone casual, but her eyes sharp, "he seems to be popping up a lot lately. You've mentioned him a few times this past week. Is he part of your new project, too?"
The innocent question felt like a spotlight suddenly glaring on his carefully constructed lies. He forced a casual shrug. "Just reconnecting, you know? Childhood friend. It's been a long time. Turns out he's pretty big in the tech world. Good networking." He hoped the professional spin would satisfy her.
Jennie hummed, but her gaze lingered on him for a beat too long. "Hmm. Well, it's nice you're reconnecting. He seems... very eager to hang out." Her voice held a note he couldn't quite decipher. Was it observation? Or something more?
Taehyung suddenly felt a chill despite the warmth of the living room. The comfortable silence that usually settled between them now felt strained, filled with unspoken questions. He hugged her closer, a desperate attempt to reassure both her and himself. He was loyal. He loved her. This was just a friendship. Wasn't it?
But the subtle shift in Jennie's eyes told him she might already be seeing something he was desperately trying to hide, even from himself.