𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗚 || ᴛᴀᴇᴋᴏᴏᴋ

• C H A P T E R 25 •

The university cafeteria was loud — the usual lunchtime chaos of students laughing, trays clattering, chairs scraping. But in the farthest corner, tucked near the wide glass windows, it was oddly calm.

Taehyung sat hunched over a barely touched tray, his fingers idly spinning a juice bottle cap. His sharp eyes were hidden behind his lashes, expression unreadable.

Across from him, Yoongi sipped his iced coffee slowly, watching Taehyung in silence before finally speaking.

"You’re seriously gonna keep avoiding him forever?” he asked, tone casual but laced with something heavier. “This guilt trip thing you’re doing? It’s not helping either of you.”

Taehyung didn’t look up.

“I told you,” he said quietly. “I hurt him.”

Yoongi sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, you messed up. But ignoring him like he’s air? That’s not fixing anything.”

Taehyung’s fingers stilled on the bottle cap. His voice came out lower this time, almost a whisper.

“The more I talk to him… the more I want him to be mine.”

Yoongi blinked, a little caught off guard by the raw honesty. “Then why not tell him that?”

“Because I don’t deserve him,” Taehyung muttered. “I was cruel. I pushed and teased and cornered him until he couldn’t breathe. And when he finally started opening up… I broke him. That day in the classroom—he looked at me like I was a monster.”

Yoongi was quiet for a moment, eyes scanning the cafeteria. His gaze eventually landed on Jungkook, sitting stiffly across the room, Jimin talking to him in hushed tones.

“He’s not broken,” Yoongi said finally. “But he is waiting.”

Taehyung’s gaze flicked over too — to the soft mop of brown hair, the hunched shoulders, the tense little hands gripping the edge of the table.

His chest tightened.

Yoongi leaned in slightly, his voice low. “If you want him… you’ll have to fight for him. Not by bullying. Not by pushing him away. Just by being honest.”

Taehyung swallowed thickly, throat dry. He looked back down at the bottle cap, fingers slowly starting to spin it again.

“Honesty,” he repeated under his breath.

Yoongi took a deep breath. “I know it’s not your strong suit, Romeo, but try it. Before someone else beats you to it.”

The clatter of trays and hum of conversation buzzed around the cafeteria, but to Taehyung, everything had suddenly gone quiet.

He felt it before he saw it — the subtle shift in the air, like a coming storm. His heart thudded in his chest, and his fingers froze mid-spin on the juice bottle cap.

Then came the voices.

Footsteps.

Jimin and Jungkook, heading toward their table.

Yoongi, still sitting beside him, noticed the way Taehyung stiffened instantly.

“Oh no you don’t,” Yoongi muttered, casually reaching over and grabbing the back of Taehyung’s leather jacket just as Taehyung made the slightest motion to stand.

Taehyung flinched. “Hyung—”

“Sit,” Yoongi ordered, tugging him back into his seat without effort. “Don’t be a coward now.”

Taehyung swallowed, hard. His eyes flicked up as the two boys approached — Jimin walking confidently, and Jungkook… wide-eyed, hesitant, clearly just barely holding himself together.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at him directly, just slightly to the side, lips pressed in a tight line. His fingers gripped the strap of his bag like it was the only thing keeping him steady.

“Hey,” Jimin greeted smoothly, sliding into the seat beside Yoongi and across from Taehyung. Jungkook followed a beat later, quietly sitting next to Jimin, which placed him diagonally across from Taehyung.

Taehyung’s eyes met his for a single moment.

And it was like the air was punched out of his lungs.

Jungkook looked softer than usual — like rain had touched him from the inside. His lashes were wet, eyes slightly red-rimmed like he hadn’t slept, or maybe had cried again that morning.

Taehyung clenched his jaw.

“Hey,” Yoongi said, still holding the edge of Taehyung’s jacket subtly in his grip. “Perfect timing. We were just talking about how someone needs to stop being a scared idiot.”

Taehyung elbowed him under the table, but Yoongi didn’t flinch.

Jimin smirked slightly but his voice was calm when he spoke. “Thought we’d join you. Lunch tastes better when no one’s running away.”

Jungkook said nothing, but he finally glanced at Taehyung again — fleeting, uncertain, but real.

And Taehyung…

He didn’t run.

He couldn’t.

Not with Yoongi gripping his jacket like an anchor, and not with Jungkook looking at him like that — broken and confused, but still there.

Still here.

His fingers tightened around the bottle cap again, heart thundering like it wanted to leap out of his chest and into the boy sitting across from him.

TO BE CONTINUE