🥀59. 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

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Soomin knelt by the open closet, her fingers brushing against the thick, leather-bound photo album that had slipped from the shelf. She hadn't intended to revisit old memories, but something compelled her to sit down with it in her lap.

Her hands traced over the worn cover, and with a quiet sigh, she opened it.

Inside, pages were filled with snapshots of her children over the years, photos capturing precious moments. The first few pages brought back fond memories, images of her youngest son, Yeonjun, with his sunny smile and Jimin, posing in every picture.

But as she continued, Soomin's smile slowly softened, and a different feeling settled over her.

There, on one of the earlier pages, was a picture of Taehyung as a small boy—his hair slightly tousled, his eyes already carrying a calm gaze.

She flipped through more pages, searching for photos of him laughing or playing freely like his siblings. But Taehyung was rarely at ease, always seeming to be standing just a bit apart, his posture balanced, his expression collected.

In family portraits also, he stood close but never leaned in, his little hand often placed at his side rather than around a sibling or parent. A few photos showed a young Taehyung with a small, reserved smile, but there was something that kept him apart—an invisible wall even Soomin hadn't noticed at the time.

The early pictures of Taehyung were a bittersweet clarity to her that how he had always been different, a little more composed, a little more guarded than his siblings.

She brushed her fingers over a photo of a young Taehyung at what must have been only five or six years old. He stood beside Yeonjun, who was a toddler at the time, reaching up to hold Taehyung's hand with a mischievous grin. Taehyung, on the other hand, wore an expression that seemed almost out of place for a child so young: calm, steady, and vigilant.

Soomin couldn't help but think back to how mature Taehyung had been even as a little boy.

Unlike Jimin and Yeonjun, who would run through the halls and make up games on the spot, Taehyung had been reserved, more thoughtful. He'd sit quietly during family dinners, speaking only when spoken to, watching everyone with that careful gaze.

When Yeonjun had knocked over a vase, it was Taehyung who, at just six years old, had taken the blame without a word of protest. She remembered his small frame, standing stoically as his father scolded him, never once saying it had been Yeonjun who'd accidentally broken it.

A lump formed in her throat as she continued to look at each image, her hands trembling slightly. She could see now what she hadn't fully understood then—the weight Taehyung had carried from such an early age, the silent burden of being the eldest son.

She'd been proud of him, yes, but she hadn't realized just how much he'd sacrificed to meet those expectations. She'd encouraged his strength, praised his calm nature, but she'd failed to see the small cracks in his armor, the parts of him that had wanted to run and play freely, just like his siblings.

There was one photo that especially tugged at her heart.

All three were sitting around a campfire in a cold winter night. Yeonjun and Jimin were caught mid-laugh, their faces lit up by the flickering flames. But Taehyung sat a little to the side, his small hands clasped around his knees, his eyes fixed on the fire, lost in thought.

Soomin remembered that night now. She had thought he was simply tired or shy, but looking at the picture, she wondered if he had felt lonely, even among his family.

She turned to another photo. It was from one of Taehyung's birthdays—a day meant to be special, all about him.

But he had stood there, small and serious, barely looking at the camera, holding his cake with a quiet expression. Yeonjun and Jimin were by his side, grinning with excitement, likely more thrilled about the cake and celebration than he was.

Her fingers traced the last image of Taehyung as a teenager, standing with Jimin and Yeonjun. They both leaned into him, bright and laughing, while he stood a bit straighter, his expression as stoic as always. But his eyes—they held a softness, a flicker of fondness as he looked at his siblings.

Soomin felt a tear slip down her cheek as she realized the depth of Taehyung's love for them, his silent, protective presence that had been there all along. Soomin sat back, lost in thought.

Her eldest son had grown up to be resilient, yes, but perhaps at the expense of his own childhood innocence.

Soomin's hands trembled as she closed the photo album, her mind now flooded with memories from recent months. She recalled the sharp words she'd directed at Taehyung, the way she'd questioned his choice to make Jungkook his wife. She remembered how she had chided him for marrying someone she viewed as unworthy of their family's stature, blinded by her own pride and assumptions.

In her mind, she could still hear the icy tone she'd used during those tense conversations, the way she'd belittled Jungkook, questioning her place in Taehyung's life and in the family.

"What were you thinking, Taehyung?" she'd demanded more than once.

"You're the eldest son. This family deserves a daughter-in-law with pedigree, with a status."

She'd been so wrapped up in her own beliefs, so determined to mold his life according to her vision, that she hadn't stopped to consider his feelings—or the pain her words might have caused him.

A painful realization settled over her. Taehyung had listened to each of her criticisms, accepting them without a hint of rebellion or argument—just to heal her, he brought Jungkook to save her.

Just like in his childhood, he'd stood there, stoic and composed, taking on the poundage of her disappointment in the same way he had always shouldered every responsibility and duty she had placed upon him.

And just like when he was younger, he hadn't once defended himself.

Soomin swallowed hard as her actions began to sink in.

The son she had raised to be calm had grown into a man who still bore that quiet strength.

Yet now, she saw how she had taken advantage of it, allowing her words to cut deeper than she'd ever intended, all because she assumed he would withstand it. And in that moment, she felt the pang of regret pierce through her heart like never before.

Soomin's fingers remained on its worn edges as memories from her past clouded her thoughts. she had overlooked something far more precious than her own pride: her son.

For so many months, she'd allowed that blinding pride to cloud her judgment, to paint Jungkook as unworthy, all the while failing to notice how her relentless disapproval had begun to push Taehyung away.

Now, looking back, Soomin could see how Taehyung had quietly distanced himself, how he'd become more reserved in her presence, no longer coming to her with the same ease he once had. She remembered his tense shoulders, the quiet sighs when she questioned his decisions, how he had turned away from her, holding his head high but with a distance that she could no longer ignore.

Taehyung's silence wasn't indifference—it was self-preservation, a shield against the hurt she had unknowingly inflicted on him.

In her efforts to save Taehyung from the shadows of her past, she had forgotten the very son she'd raised to be honorable, steadfast, and resilient.

A soft knock on the door pulled Soomin from her thoughts. She quickly wiped away the tears that had begun to blur her vision, steadying her breath before standing. Composing herself, she moved to the door, where she found Yeonjun standing with a gentle smile, his eyes bright and welcoming.

"Mom," he called softly, looking at her with concern as he noticed the remnants of emotion in her expression. "Breakfast is ready. Everyone's waiting for you downstairs."

Soomin managed a small nod, giving Yeonjun a smile as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's go,"

She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it as if drawing strength from her family.

As they walked together down the hall, Soomin glanced at Yeonjun, how freely he spoke and laughed. He was so different from Taehyung, who bore the responsibility of being the eldest son.

Soomin settled at the breakfast table, she allowed herself to truly observe. This time, she removed the thick glass of bitterness, choosing instead to see her family clearly.

What she found was a scene of quiet joy and warmth she hadn't allowed herself to notice in so long.

Yeonjun was chatting about something that had happened the day before, his hands gesturing excitedly as he told his story. Beside him, Jimin covered her mouth as she laughed, her eyes sparkling with the mischief she'd always carried.

And there was Taehyung, her eldest, his stoic exterior softened as he listened patiently to his younger siblings, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched them with quiet affection.

Then, her gaze fell to Jungkook, who was listening to Yeonjun's story with attention, occasionally throwing in a playful comment that made everyone chuckle. Jungkook's laughter was soft and warm and Soomin couldn't help but notice how her presence seemed to bring a glow to Taehyung.

Taehyung's eyes flicking between his younger siblings and his wife. While the corners of his mouth barely lifted, there was a fondness in his gaze that was impossible to miss.

Soomin's eyes lingered on Jungkook's hand, which had unconsciously found its way to Taehyung's arm. Her fingers rested lightly. The warmth of her laughter seemed to spread through Taehyung too, softening him further under her touch.

They were quietly sharing a tender moment amid the laughter and stories filling the room. Taehyung was watching Jungkook with a softness that seemed almost unfamiliar. His expression were warm that Soomin had rarely seen.

Jungkook carefully arranged a plate for Taehyung, adding an extra piece of toast and sliding a bowl of fruit closer to him. "Eat up, mister CEO," she teased with a nudge to his arm. "I'm not letting you leave this table until you've had a proper breakfast."

Taehyung raised a brow at her with a faint smile. He whispered, leaning to Jungkook in the process of accepting the plate. "Secretary, wife and now breakfast supervisor? Aren't you taking much load on your that  tiny brain of yours."

Jungkook froze for a moment, her eyes narrowing into a sharp squint. "Tiny brain?"

Without warning, her foot shot out under the table, delivering a swift kick to his shin.

Taehyung winced, though his expression barely faltered. He leaned back in his chair. "Resorting to violence already? Very professional, Mrs. Kim."

Jungkook picked up the butter knife and held it up like a weapon, and pouted at him. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, mister," she said, her voice dripping with sass as she waved the knife in his direction. "Or else you'd be getting more than just a kick."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat, Mrs. Kim? I'm trembling," he teased, clearly enjoying the playful tension between them.

Jungkook didn't miss a beat, her pout deepening as she pointed the knife toward his chest. "Exactly. Fear me," she shot back. "You know I can be terrifying when I want to be."

Taehyung leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough for her to hear. "I'm not afraid of you, Mrs. Kim," he said. "But be careful. I have some other ways of making you regret things."

Jungkook's cheeks instantly turned a shade of pink, his words catching her off guard. She looked up at Taehyung, her eyes narrowing in annoyance as she tried to hide her blush, but the sassy grin on her lips was impossible to ignore.

"Well, Mr. CEO, I'm not scared of your little... threat." Jungkook reached up, brushing an invisible speck off Taehyung's shirt. Taehyung raised his eyebrow at his wife's actions.

"Rememeber it," Jungkook cheekily spoke before gently patting his shoulder. Satisfied with her handiwork, she turned back to her own plate.

Soomin's heart tightened as she watched her son's expression soften in a way she hadn't seen since he was a child. Jungkook had drawn out a side of Taehyung that she had almost forgotten—a warmth and gentleness that had been hidden under responsibility and her own high expectations for him.

A pang of regret tugged at her heart, but it was mixed with a sense of hope.

She had been so blinded by her prejudices, by her own fears and insecurities, that she hadn't allowed herself to truly see her children's happiness. She hadn't allowed herself to see Taehyung as more than just the eldest son, burdened by duty, nor Jungkook as anything beyond the daughter of a courtesan.

But here they were, smiling and laughing like any family.

Soomin exhaled softly, a tear forming in the corner of her eye as she watched her children with a new clarity.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Two days later,

Soomin found herself watching her family more intently than ever. She noticed Taehyung more closely than she ever had before. Even in quiet moments, he carried himself with maturity. He was always watching, attentive to his family and to Jungkook, making sure everyone felt included and cared for.

As the family gathered in the garden that afternoon, she saw how naturally Jungkook fit into the dynamic. Yeonjun was teasing Jimin about a new outfit she had worn, calling her "too flashy" for a simple afternoon. Jimin retorted with a jab, claiming Yeonjun had "no sense of fashion."

Jungkook was laughing with Jimin and Yeonjun, her innocent smile bringing light to the atmosphere. Even though Jungkook's past had once made Soomin wary, now, she could see the brightness Jungkook brought to Taehyung's life.

At one point, Jungkook reached for Taehyung's hand and Soomin noticed how Taehyung's composed face softened immediately.

It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes.

Jungkook leaned into Taehyung, her head resting against his shoulder as they listened to Yeonjun's rambling about some work drama. Taehyung didn't flinch, didn't pull away—he simply let her in, his hand gently brushing against hers. The small smile he gave her, the one that softened his sharp features, spoke of something deeper than the man he appeared to be on the surface.

Soomin felt a wave of something unfamiliar—regret, maybe.

She hadn't allowed herself to see this side of Taehyung. The part of him that didn't hide his warmth behind his silence. She had been so blinded by her own anger, her own stubbornness, that she'd failed to notice how much he truly cared, not just for her, but for those around him.

For his family.

For his Jungkook.

When Jungkook spoke again, it was as if the world around them melted away. Taehyung's response was immediate—his eyes softened, his lips curling into that rare smile. Soomin could almost see the way he admired her.

It wasn't just physical attraction—it was a bond.

A connection formed from trust, in shared moments that didn't require explanations.

The way Jungkook rested against him without hesitation, how she laughed with her whole body, the easy way she teased him, made Soomin realize just how strong their foundation was.

It wasn't the grand gestures that held them together, it was the understanding.

Simple yet deep.

Soomin's gaze shifted to Jimin, who laughed and teased her brothers. But what struck Soomin the most was Taehyung's watchful eyes. Even as Jimin and Yeonjun bickered, there was an unspoken understanding between them.

It made Soomin's chest tighten. She hadn't allowed herself to see this before, hadn't let herself fully witness the quiet ways Taehyung cared for those around him.

Soomin began to wonder if it wasn't too late.

Could she, too, find a way to connect with them the way Taehyung and Jungkook had?

Could she let go of the walls she had built for so long?

It wasn't a question she had an answer to just yet, but for the first time in a long time, Soomin allowed herself the possibility of change.

And a pang of regret tightened in Soomin's chest.

■□■□

Soomin's footsteps slowed as she moved through the quiet hallways of the Kim Manor. The house was peaceful. The only sound was the soft rustling of her clothes as she walked, the serenity broken only by the occasional creak of the wooden floor beneath her.

But then, there was a sound—faint, almost unnoticable. Whispers, quiet voices, floating through the hall like a secret shared between only two people. Soomin's curiosity piqued, and she stopped, her head tilting slightly as she listened.

The sound wasn't far, just around the corner near the garden. Soomin's eyes instinctively moving toward the source of the noise.

It didn't take long for her to spot them.

Taehyung and Jungkook!

At the far end of the hallway, hidden by the shadows of the large marble pillars, stood Taehyung and Jungkook. They were so caught up in each other, so completely unaware of Soomin's presence, that it almost felt like they existed in their own world.

It felt like she was stepping on a private world they had created for just the two of them, a place where only they existed.

Jungkook was pressed against one of the grand pillars, her hands resting at her sides. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes sparkling with an emotion Soomin couldn't quite read, but one thing was clear—her focus was on Taehyung. Every inch of her seemed to glow in the dim light, drawn to him as though she couldn't help herself.

Taehyung stood just a few inches away from her, his presence towering over her like a calm storm. With every breath, the space between them seemed to shrink, and yet he didn't touch her—until he did.

His fingers brushed against the marble pillar beside her, just inches away from her skin, before he leaned in. His breath was warm against her ear. The sound of Jungkook's dainty bracelet was like music to the silence, the soft jingle marking each passing second.

The way his gaze softened as he looked at her, the intensity of his presence—it was clear to Soomin that there was something deeper between them than she had realized.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Taehyung asked, his voice full of concern.

It wasn't the typical tone he used with others. This was something more personal, something shared between two people who understood each other completely.

Jungkook's eyes twinkled mischievously as she leaned in just enough to brush her nose against his. "I'm fine. Just... waiting for you to make a move."

Her voice was teasing, but there was something in her expression that made Soomin pause. The way Jungkook looked at Taehyung, the way she seemed so completely comfortable in his presence, made Soomin realize that there was more than just love between them.

There was trust—deep, strong trust that had been built in silence and time.

Taehyung's lips curved into a faint smile, a rare, soft smile that Soomin had not seen in years. He seemed almost... human, in a way that was so different from the stoic figure he often portrayed. His eyes glimmered with warmth as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers.

"Don't test me," he murmured, his voice low and a little amused, but there was something possessive in the way he said it, something protective.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "Oh?" she teased, daring him with just those two syllables, pushing him to react.

Without a word, Taehyung's hand shot out, gripping the side of her waist and pulling her to him with a force that stole her breath. His other hand braced against the pillar, effectively trapping her between him and the cold stone.

Jungkook's jewelry jingled again, the sound of it sending a wave of heat rushing through both of them. Taehyung's gaze darkened, a predatory gleam lighting his eyes and Jungkook's pulse quickened. His lips found hers in an instant, no longer teasing, but demanding.

Her hands found his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt as she pulled him deeper into the kiss, her body pressed fully against his. Taehyung responded in kind, his arms tightening around her, the power in his grip opposite to the tenderness in his touch.

Soomin almost felt like she shouldn't be watching, like she was intruding on something so intimate, so sacred. But she couldn't tear her eyes away as they shared a kiss, soft and tender, so slow that it felt like time had stopped.

As they drew apart, their smiles lingering, Soomin turned and quietly retreated back down the hall, her heart heavy with emotions she hadn't anticipated, she understood, perhaps for the first time, just how much her son had changed—and how much of that change had come from the love he had found with Jungkook.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jungkook and Taehyung walked side by side down the dimly lit parking lot of their company building. The evening air was cool, brushing against their skin as the sky above shifted into twilight. Taehyung kept his usual pace, his attention diverted to his phone. Jungkook, on the other hand, seemed distracted, her eyes scanning the surroundings as they walked.

Suddenly, a soft sob caught her attention. Jungkook paused mid-step, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the shadows. There, tucked between two parked cars, was a small figure huddled on the ground.

A child—no older than six or seven—was sitting with their knees drawn up to their chest, quietly crying.

"Mr Kim, wait," Jungkook murmured, stopping abruptly.

Taehyung looked up from his phone, frowning in confusion. "What is it?"

Jungkook didn't answer him immediately. She took a few steps toward the child, her heart squeezing at the sight of the small figure trembling.

"Hey baby, are you okay?" she called gently and knelt down beside the child.

Taehyung had walked up quietly behind her, his gaze softening at the sight of Jungkook kneeling by the child. He'd always known that Jungkook had a heart of gold, but seeing it in action was something else.

The little one looked up, eyes red and swollen from crying, and there was a scrape on his knee, blood trickling down his leg. The child flinched at her approach but Jungkook remained calm. "Hey, it's okay, I won't hurt you. What happened?"

The child sniffled, trying to wipe his tears away but failing. "I... I fell..."

Jungkook's expression softened, and her heart melted at the vulnerable child. She reached out and gently touched his shoulder. "You're hurt, sweetheart. Let's take care of that first, okay?"

"Should we get the first aid kit?" Taehyung from side asked, his voice filled with concern.

Jungkook looked up at him. "Yeah, I think so."

Taehyung nodded, his eyes lingering on the two of them before he turned and walked toward the nearest security office. Jungkook turned back to the child, who was still sniffling and looking down at the knee.

"Don't worry," Jungkook reassured them as she carefully inspected the injury. "It's just a little scrape. We'll get you cleaned up in no time."

She gently pulled a tissue from her purse, wiping away the blood as best she could. "I'm Jungkook, what's your name?"

The child hesitated for a moment before whispering, "Soojin."

"Soojin," Jungkook repeated with a soft smile. "That's a lovely name."

Taehyung returned moments later, carrying the first aid kit. He knelt down beside Jungkook and began to prepare the supplies. "I'll take care of it,"

Jungkook smiled gratefully at him and then turned back to Soojin. "This mister will take care of you now, okay? You're in good hands."

Soojin nodded quietly, looking up at Taehyung with wide, cautious eyes. Jungkook stood up, giving Taehyung space to tend to the child. Her gaze lingered on him, watching as he gently cleaned Soojin's scraped knee. As the scrape was cleaned and bandaged, Soojin's tears began to subside. The child looked up at Jungkook, then at Taehyung.

"Thank you," Soojin whispered softly, her voice small.

"Of course," Jungkook replied with a kind smile. "Do you want us to help you get home? Or are you okay now?"

Soojin hesitated before shaking their head. "I'm... I'm okay now."

Jungkook nodded and stood, glancing at Taehyung. "I think Soojin's good to go now."

Taehyung nodded, his expression soft. "Just be careful next time, okay?" he said to the child, his voice carrying an almost fatherly tone.

Soojin gave a small nod. "Okay," he said before he stood up, wiping away the last of his tears.

As the child turned to leave, Jungkook and Taehyung watched them go.

"That was kind of you," Taehyung said softly, his gaze lingering on Jungkook with affection.

Jungkook smiled, her expression still gentle. "It's just the right thing to do."

They walked back toward the entrance of the building, side by side. When Jungkook and Taehyung prepared to leave, the small child—Soojin—suddenly tugged at Jungkook's coat sleeve, stopping her mid-step. Jungkook turned around, her warm smile still in place.

"Soojin?" she asked, crouching down to their level again.

The child hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, delicate flower. It was unlike anything Jungkook had ever seen—a deep, almost unnatural shade of purple that shimmer faintly under the parking lot lights.

"For you," Soojin said softly, their voice carrying a peculiar undertone that sent a fleeting shiver down Jungkook's spine.

Jungkook blinked in surprise, her heart softening further at what she assumed was a sweet gesture.

"Awwie thank you! That's so kind of you, babieee" she said, taking the flower carefully into her hands.

Behind her, Taehyung glanced at the flower briefly before returning his focus to Soojin. "Where did you find that?" he asked, his tone subtly curious.

"In the garden near here," Soojin replied quickly.

Jungkook smiled, admiring the flower's unusual beauty. "It's lovely," she murmured. "Thank you, Soojin. You're such a cute baby."

But as Jungkook stood back up, there was something unreadable in Soojin's wide eyes—something far too mature for a child.

"I should go now," Soojin said abruptly, stepping back into the shadows of the parking lot.

Jungkook watched as the small figure disappeared. "What a sweet kid," she said softly, more to herself than Taehyung.

Taehyung nodded, his gaze lingering on the direction Soojin had gone. "Strange though," he muttered under his breath, more out of instinct than suspicion.

Unknown to them, Soojin vanished deeper into the shadows of the parking lot and the child's form began to shift. The small frame grew taller, darker, until the Ash Jinn stood where the child once had, her lips curling into a cruel smile.

"The seed has been planted," she whispered, her voice dripping with malice. "Soon, the one meant to save you, Kim Taehyung, will be your undoing."

The flower in Jungkook's hands, the deadly Poison Hue, carried a malevolent magic.

Its energy would start to weave itself into Jungkook. And when the moment came—when her love and care for Taehyung would bring her closest to him—it would transfer its cursed energy into him, slowly draining his strength, his magic, his life.

Jungkook adjusted her purse as they began walking back to their car. Taehyung's steps were slow, his gaze trailing back toward the spot where the child had disappeared. His brows furrowed, his stoic expression showed doubt.

"Something's not right about that kid," he muttered, more to himself.

Jungkook glanced up at him, her pace quickening to match his longer strides. "Not right? Mr Kim, it was just a kid. A sweet one!"

He stopped abruptly, turning toward her with a look that made Jungkook raise a brow. "A kid wandering alone in a parking lot at this hour, with a rare flower from a garden? That's normal to you?"

Jungkook's lips pursed as she crossed her arms. "Okay, Coldie, not everyone has to come with a background check," she huffed. "Sometimes people are just... nice."

"Nice," Taehyung repeated, his tone flat but his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yes, nice," Jungkook snapped back, lifting the flower as if it were proof. "Like this flower. Soojin thought it would make me smile. And guess what? It did! Just because you're always suspicious of everything doesn't mean the rest of the world is a dark and dangerous place."

Taehyung stared at her for a moment, his face unreadable, before exhaling through his nose and resuming his walk toward the car.

"Fine," he said shortly, his tone tinged with frustration. But as they reached the car, his hand hovered at the handle and his voice broke the silence.

"Just... don't keep it too close," he said, nodding toward the flower. "I don't know why, but something about it feels... wrong."

Jungkook tilted her head, staring at him as if he'd grown another head. "Fine," she relented, sighing as she leaned against the car door. "I'll keep it in my bag or far away. Happy, Mr. Overprotective?"

Taehyung's eyes flicked to hers, relief flashing through them. "Happier," he murmured, his voice softer now but his gaze still wary.

Jungkook rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "You're weird, you know that?"

"And you're reckless," Taehyung shot back.

With a huff, Jungkook carefully tucked the flower into her purse, sparing it one last glance before securing the bag shut. Her earlier annoyance began to dissipate, replaced by the memory of the child's bright smile. She leaned back into her seat, arms crossed, her lips still faintly curved in amusement.

Taehyung started the car, his hands firm on the wheel. Silence stretched between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The city lights flickered past the window, Jungkook snuck a glance at him, her brows furrowing slightly. "You know, sometimes it's okay to just... trust that not everything is a hidden threat."

Taehyung's eyes remained on the road. "And sometimes," he replied, "it's okay to trust that I'm trying to protect you."

Jungkook blinked at his words, her teasing caught in her throat. For once, she didn't argue. Instead, she tightened her grip on the bag resting in her lap.

Unaware of her shift in mood, Taehyung reached out and adjusted the rearview mirror. Though his eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, the corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smirk.

"But thank you for listening, Mrs. Kim. For once."

Jungkook gasped in offense, breaking the seriousness. "For once? Excuse me, I'm the most cooperative person you know!"

Taehyung let out a soft chuckle. "Sure you are, Mrs Kim."

The car slowed to a stop at a red light, Taehyung reached over and took Jungkook's hands in his. His long fingers enveloping hers completely. She blinked, startled by the sudden gesture, and turned to look at him.

"Mrs Kim," he began, "Maybe I come off as overbearing sometimes, and maybe you're not wrong. But what I want you to understand is that everything I do, every cautious step I take, is because you matter more to me than anything else. You're at the center of everything for me. The thought of something happening to you? That's not a risk I'm willing to take."

Jungkook's heart fluttered at the raw emotion in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Taehyung let go of her hands, leaning back into his seat as the light turned green.

The car began moving again, but Jungkook couldn't let the moment end. Without thinking, she breached Taehyung's territory and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Her lips lingered just long enough to make him stiffen slightly in surprise, his hands tightening briefly on the wheel.

Pulling back, Jungkook caught the flicker of surprise in Taehyung's expression, quickly masked by a slight arch of his brow. His hand tightened on the wheel as a faint blush dusted his ears. He turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing at her playfully, though the corner of his lips lifted in a small smile.

"Mrs Kim," he said, his voice deeper now, "a little warning next time, hmm? These stunts of yours could be dangerous for my concentration. I'd appreciate a bit of forewarning. Not that I mind but some distractions are... hazardous."

Jungkook grinned, her nose crinkling in amusement. "What, can't handle a little affection, Mr. Kim?"

He turned his gaze back to the road, his expression softening as a low chuckle escaped him. "Oh, I can handle it. Just don't be surprised if you find yourself on the receiving end next time—when you least expect it."

Jungkook's cheeks flushed at the teasing promise in his words but she let out a soft laugh, leaning back into her seat. The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence. Taehyung's hand remained in hers, a silent connection that neither of them fully realized might soon be tested in ways they couldn't imagine.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a cool, quiet night.

Soomin sat alone on the terrace bench, a thick photo album resting on her lap. The soft rustling of the pages was the only sound breaking the silence, each picture within them stirring a new wave of memories.

Soomin sighed, her heart heavy. She had been so blind, so caught up in her own bitterness and misconceptions about Jungkook's background that she had failed to see the love her son had found.

She had failed to see him.

The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted her thoughts, and she instinctively tensed, her gaze lifting from the album. At first, she thought it might be one of the servants or Yeonjun, but when she turned her head to the side, she froze.

It was Taehyung.

He stood a few feet away, his tall frame silhouetted against the soft glow of the terrace lights. His expression was unreadable, as always, but the faint tension in his shoulders told Soomin that something was different tonight.

"Mother,"

Soomin didn't respond immediately. She just stared at him, the words trapped in her throat. It was as if, for the first time, she was truly seeing him—not as the heir to the Kim family, but as her son.

Her firstborn.

She swallowed thickly, trying to hide the emotions that were rising within her. Slowly, she closed the album and set it aside, her hands resting nervously on her lap.

"I didn't hear you come," she said, her voice a little more fragile than she intended.

Taehyung took a few steps closer. There was no anger in his eyes, no resentment. Only something softer, something that made Soomin's chest tighten with guilt. He wasn't the same boy she had once tried to control, the boy she had tried to shape into a version of himself that suited her vision. He had grown into someone who knew exactly who he was.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said, his tone gentle. But there was an edge to his words. He sat down beside her.

Soomin shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at the album again. "I was just looking through old photos," she murmured. "You, Jimin, Yeonjun... When you were all so little." Her voice trailed off, her thoughts becoming more jumbled. "I miss those times."

Taehyung didn't respond right away. Instead, he looked up at the sky, his gaze distant as he seemed to gather his thoughts. After a few moments, he spoke again, his voice quiet but firm.

"How are you?" he asked quietly.

Soomin blinked, taken aback by the question. It wasn't something she expected to hear from her son.

She thought for a moment, trying to put into words the jumble of emotions inside her.

The regret.

The guilt.

The quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, they could start healing.

"I've been better," she finally admitted, her voice soft. "I think I've been holding onto too much... too many mistakes, too many things I didn't understand."

Taehyung watched her closely, as if he was trying to read the depth of her words. He gave a small nod, the slight shift in his posture indicating that he was truly listening.

"It's been a long while since we sat like this," Taehyung spoke quietly, his voice low but filled with a sense of nostalgia.

Soomin's heart tightened at the sound of his voice. She remembered the last time they had shared such a quiet moment, not too long ago—just a few weeks, in fact. It had been a peaceful evening, much like this one. Taehyung had been sitting by her feet, gently massaging them as he always did when he was trying to comfort her, when she had felt overwhelmed.

But that time, Soomin had pushed him away.

The memory hit her like a wave.

She had been so consumed by her own anger, her hurt, and her stubbornness that she couldn't see how far her actions had pushed her son. When Taehyung had tried to soothe her, to offer a little of his warmth, she had recoiled, unable to let him in. She had told him, in a cold and detached voice, that she didn't need his sympathy.

That she didn't need anything from him.

Her chest ached as she recalled that moment. The hurt in his eyes, the way he had simply stood up and walked away without saying a word.

Now, as they sat together on the terrace, the silence between them was thick with everything unspoken. The regret she had been carrying seemed to settle heavily on her heart, but she didn't know how to start undoing the damage she had done.

"I'm sorry," Soomin said softly, her voice trembling. "For... everything. For pushing you away when all you wanted to do was be there for me."

Taehyung didn't immediately respond. He just sat there, his gaze fixed on the stars above. For a moment, Soomin wondered if he even heard her, if he had already built too many walls to let her back in.

But then, slowly, he turned to her, his expression unreadable.

"I know what you're trying to say," Taehyung spoke slowly, his voice quieter than usual, like he was choosing each word carefully.

"But sometimes... sorry doesn't fix everything. It doesn't bring things back, doesn't heal the wounds."

Soomin felt her chest tighten at the words. She had expected his forgiveness, expected him to be the strong Taehyung that he always was, offering comfort even when it wasn't his place to.

But now, as he spoke, there was something more—something raw and fragile.

Something she hadn't seen in him before.

"I didn't mean for it to go like this," Taehyung continued, his voice laced with a bitterness he rarely allowed to show. "I didn't mean to be distant. But after everything, after what you said... I couldn't pretend it didn't hurt. I couldn't pretend it didn't cut deeper than I ever thought possible."

Soomin's breath caught in her throat, the guilt threatening to overwhelm her. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught, tangled in his pain.

Taehyung wasn't the type to show weakness, but tonight, the cracks in his carefully built armor were undeniable.

His eyes shifted to meet hers, the look in them both questioning and distant, like he was asking for something she wasn't sure how to give.

"You think I don't know that you were hurt? That you've been hurting for years?" Taehyung's voice grew quieter still, as if the mere admission of it was too much to handle. "But you—" He stopped, running a hand through his hair as if trying to shake the words out of himself.

"You pushed me away. And when I tried to be there, when I tried to comfort you, you shut me out. Not just once, but over and over again." He looked down, his jaw tightening. "You told me I was no good for you. That I didn't belong in your world. And I..." He trailed off, staring at his hands as if they were a reminder of all the ways he had failed.

Soomin could feel each word, the way his hurt was like a scar she had inflicted without meaning to. The guilt washed over her in waves, and yet, she could hear the quiet plea in his voice—the unspoken desire for something she wasn't sure how to give.

"I tried, you know," Taehyung murmured. "I tried to be the son you wanted me to be. But I couldn't, not after everything that happened. Not after all the times you told me I wasn't enough. And then... with Jungkook..."

Soomin stiffened at the mention of her name, but Taehyung didn't stop. He continued, as if needing to let it all out, as if the words were the only way to make sense of what had been eating at him for so long.

"You can't erase what's been said, what's been done," he said, his voice almost a whisper now. "And neither can I. Sorry can't bring those things back. It doesn't erase the days of resentment or the way you looked at me like I was some stranger."

He shook his head slightly, more to himself than to her, and added, "It doesn't fix the way I felt when you looked at me and saw nothing but disappointment."

Soomin felt her heart crack with each word, but she knew there was nothing she could say to undo what had already been done. She had broken something, and no apology in the world would ever fully heal it.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," Taehyung continued, his voice soft but firm, like the finality of his words had settled deep within him.

"I'm just... telling you how it is. I can't change what's already happened, and I can't pretend like it didn't affect me. I can't pretend I'm not still hurt. Maybe one day, we'll find a way to move past it. But that doesn't mean the wounds will ever go away."

Soomin's throat felt tight, and she could feel the tears welling up, but she didn't speak. There was nothing to say that would change the truth in his words.

Taehyung slowly stood up, his posture still stiff, but there was something different in the way he held himself—something raw, vulnerable, and unguarded.

"I will go," he said quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "Go to my wife who would be waiting for me in the bed."

The words hit Soomin like a cold gust of wind, and she froze, a chill running through her as the memory surged forward, unbidden. Her mind flashed back to that night—the same words she had spoken so bitterly to him, words that had wounded both him and their relationship beyond repair.

"Go to your wife. She must be waiting for you in bed."

The sharpness of her own voice echoed in her ears as if it were happening all over again. She remembered how she had looked at him with disdain, how she had dismissed him and his choice in that moment. She had been so blinded by her pride, by the image of Jungkook's status, by her own fears and assumptions.

And in that moment, she had torn away a piece of her son's heart without even realizing it.

Taehyung turned to leave, but before he could take another step, Soomin found herself standing up abruptly. She reached out, but her hand hovered, unsure, trembling with the emotions that had been building up for so long.

"Taehyung..."

But the words were so quiet, so small, compared to everything she wanted to say. Her heart was breaking as she realized that she could never take back the hurt she had caused, that no matter how many apologies she gave, they could never undo the damage she had done.

Taehyung turned back to her, his face as unreadable as ever, but his eyes—those eyes—held something she hadn't seen in so long: weariness. He didn't say anything, but the pain in his gaze was enough to speak volumes.

"Taehyung," she said, her voice shaking as she took a step forward. "I didn't mean to... I never meant to hurt you like this."

His eyes flickered to hers, but he didn't move. His expression was the same stoic mask he had perfected over the years, but the way he held himself—so distant, so detached—showed her just how much he had closed himself off.

"You never meant to hurt me?" Taehyung's voice was quiet, almost sad. "I don't think you ever understood the weight of your words, mother. I tried to make you proud. I tried to follow your vision of me. But it was never enough, was it?"

Soomin's heart clenched. She wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but the words stuck in her throat. There was nothing she could say that would change the past.

"I didn't realize how much I hurt you," Soomin whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn't see it. I was so blinded by my own fears."

Taehyung's eyes softened for a brief moment, but the coldness that had built up over the years remained. He didn't respond right away, just stood there, looking at her as if trying to reconcile the woman he had once loved with the woman who had hurt him so deeply.

"I'll go," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've said everything I needed to say. I hope you find peace, mother. I truly do."

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Soomin standing there, empty and alone, surrounded by the pain she had caused.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───