The umbrella incident should’ve ended there. At least, that’s what I told myself. But life has a strange way of making sure certain people cross your path again and again.
The following week, I walked into class late—something I rarely did. The room was quiet, eyes darting toward me, but one gaze lingered longer than the rest. Jungkook.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, smirk playing on his lips. “Look who finally decided to join us. Did the rain slow you down this time, Taehyung?”
I froze. “How do you—”
“Your name?” He cut in smoothly. “I asked around. What, you thought you could stay invisible forever?”
I clenched my jaw. “Why would you care?”
His smirk softened into something else—something I couldn’t name. “Because sometimes… the quiet ones have the loudest storms.”
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Nobody had ever looked at me that way before—as if they could see past the walls I built, past the silence I wore like armor.
At lunch, Jungkook appeared again, sliding his tray across from mine without asking. “So, Taehyung,” he said, testing my name on his tongue, “are you always this fun, or do I just bring out the best in you?”
I scoffed, but my lips betrayed me with the faintest curve of a smile. “You’re annoying.”
“And yet,” he leaned forward, eyes glinting, “you didn’t tell me to leave.”
Something about him unsettled me. He was persistent, unpredictable, and far too comfortable breaking into the quiet spaces of my life. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny it—his presence made the world feel a little less heavy.
I should’ve pushed him away. But instead, I stayed.
And that was my first mistake—or maybe my first salvation.
