Jungkook sits on a weathered stone bench, his hands limp in him lap, his gaze fixed on nothing. he looks hollow—like the past few days have drained the life from him.
From a distance, Taehyung watches him.
He had seen him like this before—years ago, when he had walked away. Back then, he had been crying, begging him to stay.
His chest tightens.
He shouldn’t approach him. He knows he hates him. But the sight of him—so broken, so unlike the bright, smiling boy he once loves—makes his feet move before he can stop himself.
The bench creaks as Taehyung sits beside him, leaving a careful space between them. His hands clench and unclench, his throat dry.
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