𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗚 || ᴛᴀᴇᴋᴏᴏᴋ

• C H A P T E R 21 •

It had been TWO months
long, aching days.

Taehyung hadn’t spoken a single word to Jungkook in that time — not a glance, not a smirk, not even one of his signature scoffs. He’d become a ghost with a heartbeat, haunting the same halls, sitting a few rows away in class, walking past Jungkook as if they’d never even shared a word, a touch, a moment.

And Jungkook?
He was unraveling.

At first, he tried to convince himself it was better this way — quieter, simpler, safer. No teasing, no racing pulse, no confusion. But the silence pressed on his chest heavier each day, like an invisible weight no one else could see.

He missed the annoying nicknames.
Missed the smug grins.
Missed being noticed.

Now, Taehyung would enter a room and never even glance his way. If Jungkook laughed too loud, Taehyung would leave. If their paths crossed in the hallway, Taehyung would take a different route. The avoidance was intentional — sharp and suffocating — and Jungkook could feel it digging into his ribs like thorns.

He caught himself watching Taehyung more than he should — lingering on the curve of his jaw, the tired set of his shoulders, the way he ran his fingers through his hair when he thought no one was looking. There was no more spark in Taehyung’s eyes. No mischief. Only distance.

He’s hurting too, Jungkook realized one evening as he sat alone in the library, his books open but his mind miles away. And I did that. I pushed him away.

The worst part?
Taehyung had listened.
He had respected Jungkook’s words, his fear — and now Jungkook was choking on the space he’d asked for.

It was strange… how someone could feel so close and yet so impossibly far away.

He saw Taehyung that afternoon across the courtyard, laughing softly at something Yoongi muttered, cigarette tucked between his fingers. The sight sent a dull ache through Jungkook’s chest.

Jimin slid up beside him without warning. “Still pretending you’re okay?” he asked lightly.

Jungkook didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on Taehyung, who hadn’t even noticed him.

Jimin sighed. “It’s been two months, Kook. You’re allowed to miss him, you know.”

“I never stopped,” Jungkook whispered.

Jimin gave a sad little smile. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Jungkook swallowed hard, heart pounding.

Because maybe it was time to stop running from what he felt.

Jungkook slammed his locker shut a little harder than necessary, the metallic clang echoing down the empty hallway.

“I don’t care,” he muttered under his breath, stuffing his hands deep into his hoodie pockets. “I really don’t.”

He said it again at lunch when Jimin nudged him and nodded toward the far table where Taehyung sat with Yoongi and a few others, laughing at something Yoongi whispered.

“I don’t care,” Jungkook said, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

Jimin raised a brow. “You’re literally stabbing your food.”

“I’m hungry.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sulking.”

“I'm fine, Jimin!”

The silence between them stretched until Jungkook exhaled shakily and stared down at his tray, the food untouched now.

“I mean…” he muttered, voice lower this time, “what’s the big deal? He stopped bothering me. Isn’t that what I wanted? He used to be scary. Mean. Always teasing me. Always…” He trailed off, jaw clenching. “Now he’s not. So whatever. I don’t care.”

Jimin didn’t argue. He just tilted his head and said softly, “Then why do you look like you’re about to cry every time you see him?”

Jungkook flinched, throat tightening.

“I’m not,” he whispered. “I just… I’m tired. That’s all.”

He pushed his tray away and stood up, grabbing his bag like the conversation never happened. “I have class.”

As he walked off, his shoulders hunched forward, movements stiff.
He didn’t glance at Taehyung’s table — didn’t let himself.

Because if he did… he might just fall apart.

He wasn’t ready to admit what was really eating him alive.
So he told himself again, like a mantra.

“I don’t care.”

Even if every beat of his heart screamed otherwise.

The corridor buzzed with students switching classes, footsteps echoing against the tiled floor and voices blending into a dull hum. Jungkook walked slowly, his eyes fixed on the floor, lost in thoughts he didn't want to admit aloud — thoughts of Taehyung, of silence, of what-ifs.

And then fate, cruel and clumsy as ever, played its hand.

He looked up just in time to see Taehyung turning the corner from the opposite direction — tall, unreadable, cold. Jungkook froze mid-step.

They collided.

It was a soft bump, nothing serious, but it jolted something inside Jungkook. Maybe it was the proximity, or the fact that Taehyung didn’t even flinch. Didn't say a word.

“Taehyung…” Jungkook blurted, voice shaky.

Taehyung didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at him.

Jungkook’s breath hitched. Panic surged.

“Taehyung, wait—” he reached out, fingers curling around Taehyung’s bicep, not letting go this time. He gripped tightly — maybe too tightly — trying to anchor him, trying to make him stay.

But the sudden pull caught Taehyung off guard.

He stumbled back a step.

And crashed right into someone who had been walking behind them — a girl, small and new, clutching her books nervously.

Taehyung fell into her softly, instinctively catching her waist to steady them both. She gasped, wide-eyed, her hands landing on his chest. Their faces were close. Too close.

It looked like a hug. A warm, accidental, intimate hug.

Jungkook’s heart dropped.

His hand fell from Taehyung’s arm like it had been burned.

He stood frozen, breath caught in his throat, chest twisting painfully at the sight. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t anything. But his mind didn’t listen.

Behind him, Jimin stopped in his tracks, eyes going wide. And Yoongi — who had been walking alongside them — paused, cigarette unlit in hand, his mouth tightening into a thin, surprised line.

The hallway seemed to go silent.

Jungkook’s face crumbled for just a second — eyes glossing over, lips parting like he was about to say something but couldn’t.

Then, without a word, he turned and walked away — fast, head down.

Jimin started to follow but Yoongi gently caught his wrist. “Let him go,” he murmured. “He needs a moment.”

Taehyung stood still, the girl stepping away with a nervous apology. His eyes, finally lifting, followed Jungkook’s retreating back… and for a split second, they softened.

But he didn’t move.

He just stood there, heart thudding quietly.

Even when he was trying to protect Jungkook…
It always ended with hurting him anyway.

TO BE CONTINUE