Jungkook woke up the next morning feeling oddly lighter. The bookmarks, now neatly tucked into his collection of books, were a reminder of the mysterious giver. It was strange how such small gestures could affect him so deeply.

On his way out, his gaze lingered at his neighbor's door for a moment. Could it be his neighbour? He didn't know much about the residents in his building. Everyone kept to themselves, himself included. But now, curiosity bloomed in his chest, a rare and unfamiliar feeling.

"Who are you?" he murmured under his breath as he stepped into the elevator.

______________________________________

Meanwhile, Taehyung sat in the university library, struggling to focus on his art history notes. His thoughts kept drifting back to Jungkook and the bookmarks. Did Jungkook like them? Did he even open the package or threw them away?

He sighed, pressing his pencil to the page and doodling absentmindedly in the margins. A tiny part of him wanted to be brave enough to watch Jungkook's reaction, but the idea of being caught sent shivers down his spine.

"Hey, Tae," a voice called, jolting him out of his thoughts.

He looked up to see his bestfriend Jimin sliding into the seat across from him. Jimin's sharp eyes immediately caught the distracted look on Taehyung's face.

"You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" Jimin teased with a knowing smirk.

Taehyung flushed, ducking his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jimin laughed softly, shaking his head. "You're hopeless, you know that? Why don't you just talk to him? You're neighbors. It's not that hard."

"It is for me," Taehyung muttered, fiddling with his pencil. "He's... different. Intimidating. He's near but yet so far."

Jimin studied him for a moment before leaning forward. "Okay, so maybe direct conversation isn't your thing. But don't you think he'll eventually figure out it's you leaving those gifts?"

Taehyung's heart skipped a beat at the thought. "I... I don't know. I just hope he likes them."

______________________________________

Jungkook returned home late that evening, exhaustion weighing on his shoulders after a day filled with client meetings. His sharp eyes immediately swept the hallway, almost as if he were expecting another gift.

But his doorstep was bare.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and unlocked his door. The absence of a new package shouldn't bother him, but it did. The small gestures had become a part of his day, a quiet mystery that made him feel seen in ways he hadn't felt in years.

As he hung his coat, his eyes drifted to the keychain on the table. Then to the bookmarks now neatly arranged on his bookshelf. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

The gifts weren't just objects, they were whispers of warmth, breaking through his otherwise cold, lonely life.

______________________________________

In his apartment, Taehyung was working on the third gift. This one was a small wooden picture frame he'd carefully sanded and painted. It was a rich mahogany color with golden accents, a design he thought Jungkook might appreciate.

He turned it over in his hands, inspecting every corner for imperfections. His heart swelled at the idea of Jungkook using it, of it finding a place in his home.

"Maybe this time, I'll write a note," he whispered to himself, though the thought made his stomach twist with nerves.

Carefully, he placed the frame in a box, wrapping it in tissue paper like the previous gifts. A note... Maybe not yet.

For now, the gifts were enough.

But maybe, maybe, a note sounds not too bad....