𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗚 || ᴛᴀᴇᴋᴏᴏᴋ

• THE END •

The grand cathedral was nothing short of breathtaking. Golden light spilled through stained glass windows, casting colorful prisms over the marble floor. Rows of guests filled the seats in hushed awe, the air tinged with soft violin music, blooming white lilies, and the unmistakable scent of anticipation. Every corner was draped in ivory silk and subtle candlelight, reflecting the perfect union of royalty and rebellion-of love hard-earned and boldly declared.

At the front of the altar, Taehyung stood still-stiff, almost statue-like-dressed in a black velvet tuxedo tailored so exquisitely that even the air seemed to pause and admire. His dark hair was swept back with just a few strands loose over his forehead, but his usually confident gaze now flickered with nerves, betraying the storm raging inside his chest. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, and he swallowed hard for the third time in a row.

Yoongi, standing beside him in his role as best man-stoic as always in a navy suit with minimalist elegance-leaned closer and muttered under his breath, "Bro... you're literally the head of an underground empire. Why are you shaking like you just saw a ghost?"

Taehyung blinked rapidly and whispered back, "Because that ghost is about to walk down the aisle and ruin me in the best way possible."

Yoongi scoffed lightly, offering the faintest of smirks. "You're so dramatic it's physically exhausting."

But Taehyung didn't hear him.

Because just then, the music shifted-the chords deepened, soft bells chiming-and all heads turned as the grand cathedral doors began to open with a slow, ceremonial creak.

There, in the golden haze of the entrance, stood Jungkook.

And everything else simply... stopped.

On the arm of Mr. Kim, who was dressed in a dignified tuxedo and walking with pride and quiet emotion in his eyes, Jungkook looked like something from a celestial dream. He wore a white wedding gown so delicate, so immaculately designed it seemed to have been woven by moonlight itself. The fabric shimmered like morning dew, fitted at the waist and cascading to the floor in soft, flowing layers that whispered with each step. His soft brown curls framed his face perfectly, a thin veil trailing behind him like a promise, and his eyes-his eyes sparkled like galaxies. Nervous, joyful, overwhelmed, but oh, so full of love.

Taehyung forgot how to breathe.

His heart thudded violently, lips parting slightly as he tried to find words, but none came. His arms trembled, and his eyes-wide, full, already glassy-locked onto Jungkook and refused to look away. There was nothing else. Just him. Just the boy he used to tease and torment, the boy who grew into a man who changed his life, and who was now walking toward him with the grace of something divine.

Yoongi glanced sideways at Taehyung's stunned face, then sighed. "Yup. You're gone. Completely ruined. Good luck getting your soul back."

Meanwhile, in the second row, Kim Seokjin was already a sobbing mess.

Clutching a monogrammed handkerchief in one hand and gripping Namjoon's arm with the other like the world was ending, Jin sobbed dramatically into Namjoon's shoulder.

"My baby brother!" he wailed, nose red, eyes puffed, tears pouring like a broken faucet. "He used to wear bunny slippers and call me hyungie! Look at him now! In a wedding gown! Looking like a Disney princess with trauma!"

Namjoon, smiling like a proud fool, wrapped an arm around Jin and gently patted his shoulder. "He's beautiful, hyung. You should be proud."

"I am, that's the problem!" Jin sobbed harder. "How did time pass so fast?! When did I get old?!"