Work Text:
She meets him at her father's company gala, the product of a successful merger between two prestigious corporations and she braces herself for a night of plastered smiles, feigned pleasantries and vapid exchanges.
It's about halfway through, when she steps outside for a much needed breather that she notices him, leaning casually against the balcony ledge and even suited up in a form-fitting evening tux, she is able to make out the defined ridges of his back.
She slides the door as gently as she can behind her but he turns all the same and she's never really been one for idealized romanticism or adolescent clichés-
But she thinks there's a 50/50 chance she feels her breath stutter in that moment, heart fumbling helplessly within her chest as she finds herself at a complete loss.
She's encountered her fair share of beauty in this world, her father relentless in his designs of arranging meetings for her with attractive heirs to partner companies.
But this person standing before her-
She nearly cringes at the insidious thoughts of how drastically the others now seem to pale in comparison.
She's been indulging herself in flutes of Dom Perignon and Armand de Brignac all night, but she suddenly feels parched for an entirely different reason altogether.
As though sensing the culminating chaos within her mind, a knowing look settles within the abyss of molten irises and she distinguishes what she thinks is a trace of a smirk persisting along the edges of those lips.
She refuses to admit the sight affects her in any way.
Years of honing an impeccable disposition and devising a prim aesthetic evidently failed to prepare her for this if she can hardly manage to string a sentence together.
She watches as that smirk deepens and she's overcome with the niggling urge to slap (kiss) it off.
"Had to get out of there as well?"
The rich cadence to his voice evokes something primal inside her and she feels herself grappling desperately for clarity. There's a deep, raspy drawl to his words and something that feels like sin curling itself around his syllables.
She concedes she's flustered only because she begrudgingly finds him painstakingly gorgeous.
She barely manages a coherent response, finding herself distracted by the pools of sable staring straight at her and rendering her weaker by the millisecond.
He smiles lazily, regarding her with something carnal in his gaze, dark eyes raking slowly over her form and she tangibly feels every spot he lingers upon burn with newfound heat.
"Jeon Jeongguk."
She wonders if perhaps that was the very moment she inevitably found herself entrapped within the fatal web of his allure.
Later, when he has her pressed against the walls of one of the vacant rooms upstairs, evening gown peeled away and lips sensuously mapping the expanse of her flesh and stoking the flames of her desire, she thinks it's not an entirely unfounded suspicion.
He unravels her piece by piece- wrenching soft gasps and unrestrained moans from the pillows of her lips- and when he finally (finally) slides inside, burying himself deeply with a sated groan and eyes varnishing over with uncurbed want and an indiscernible air of wonder, she thinks that maybe she falls just a little bit in love with the way he loves her that night.
It isn't until much later on that she comes to realize the glazed look in his eyes that night (and every night thereafter) had existed only because there was already the visage of someone else woven so intricately within the fabrics of his mind and the presence of another stitched irrevocably between each layer of his heart.
~~~
His name is Taehyung.
Kim Taehyung.
It never fails to leave an acrid tang on her tastebuds.
He doesn't speak much about him. He doesn't speak much of anything to be quite honest.
But the topic of Taehyung, in particular, is something he seems to keep closely guarded- stowed away and etched between the inner layers of his lips, like invaluable treasure he dares not speak of lest he takes away from its sanctity.
He's a friend.
As far as she knows, that's all he is (ever was).
He's also Jeongguk's most cherished friend (person), the only one he still makes an effort to hold onto from college.
It's not a competition.
Every night after he's done exploring the valleys of her form and he thinks she's asleep, she'll hear him slip out from between the sheets, grabbing his phone where it rests atop the dresser before making his way just outside the balcony.
Like clockwork, a minute or so will pass before she is able to make out the soft utterance of Taehyung through the crack in the door.
For some reason, she doesn't think it ever crosses Jeongguk's mind to shut that sliding glass- as though he's not the one in danger of overstepping his boundaries (of ever being intrusive).
As though there are far more pressing (valuable) matters to attend to than worrying about what she may or may not overhear.
Like hearing Taehyung's voice again - like someone deprived of their daily sustenance, only to find a way to breathe life back into himself after stumbling upon an oasis of fulfillment (purpose).
It's not a competition.
Jeongguk breathes the other's name like a prayer, a sacred mantra molded into his lips and serving to ease the calamities driving his soul.
(She'll never admit that his tenderness breaks her a little on the inside each time).
He sings the other's name like he's the sole proprietor of his existence, tone unraveling into something unbelievably affectionate (raw) as he exchanges words (pieces of himself) with him and she vaguely wonders whether she'll ever be on the receiving side of that kind of wonderment.
It's not a competition.
She hears the other laugh, voice dipping into something low (loaded with unspoken promises, intent and maybe something like unparalleled adoration) and her stomach churns unpleasantly in response.
It's like night and day, she thinks.
As though she is encountering two different people.
A Jeongguk without Taehyung, and a Jeongguk with him.
It's not a competition, she knows. There's nothing there, between either of them that indicates there's anything to compete over.
But as she listens to the gentle inflection of the other's voice, his tone emanating an unprecedented layer of warmth (emotion)- one that she has never had the privilege of bearing witness to- there's a small part of her that can't help but to think that it's starting to feel like one.
~~~
It's another company event, lavish marble halls already bustling with people decked in swanky gowns and evening suits.
Although, she supposes she's not one to talk considering that she currently exhibits the epitome of pretentious opulence at this point.
She's half tempted to shrink back into the shadows, convinced she's likely overdone it with the high slit, backless gown detailed in Swarovski.
But there's a purpose for everything, she thinks as she subtly eyes the other standing to her left, arm fitted through his flawlessly.
They look the picture perfect couple.
Even though she knows that's probably the last thing Jeongguk considers them to be. Evidently, sex does not equate to commitment (devotion).
No, apparently those kind of things are reserved for faceless companions, she thinks somewhat bitterly.
She tries not to be petty (hateful), but it's getting harder to pretend like it doesn't chip away at something inside her every time he looks and manages to see past her.
She wishes she didn't feel like this.
Thoughts circulate around the exchange she eavesdropped on (although, it's not like Jeongguk really made commendable efforts to hide anything from her) last night.
The memory still brings an undesirable pang to her gut and her fingers subconsciously curl tighter around his arm.
"Tae," She hears him whisper somewhat urgently into his phone, frustration interlinked within his inflection. It's not something she's used to hearing from the other when he speaks to him and her interest is piqued. "No. I want you there."
A pause.
"Please."
The undercurrent of desperation embedded within that rough timbre makes something in her chest ache.
What would it be like, to have that kind of ardor directed towards her?
"That doesn't matter to me, you know that." She can make out the persistence laced between the gaps of his words, an unwillingness to back down from the very thing most sought after.
What is it that he truly desires, she laments briefly.
She fears there's a part of her that already knows the answer to that.
"I'll send you one if I need to, just-"
He breaks off then, and she waits with bated breath, a weird interplay of anticipation and dread mingling inside of her.
"I want to see you again."
She distantly makes out the sound of something cracking.
"I miss you." He exhales harshly, the energy audibly seeping from his tone as though the fight has been drained out of him and the only thing left is the exposed version of this man before her, laying his honesty out on the line and baring himself unhesitatingly for the very person on the other end of the call. "It's been too long."
She doesn't realize it just might be the sound of her own ribcage splintering.
"Just promise me you'll make it."
Please don't make that promise.
"Tae," He murmurs that name with so much reverence and she is once again thrown by how deeply it sounds like want.
He doesn't sound like someone who misses a friend.
"Just promise me."
No.
He sounds like someone who knows of nothing else but to yearn deeply over something that has never quite had the opportunity to bloom.
(He sounds like someone profoundly in love).
There's a prolonged delay before she finally picks up on the sigh of relief expelled from Jeongguk's lips. She can practically envision the way his entire mien softens in its appeasement, the creases around his brow unraveling and making way for the contentment peeking through the surface- uninhibited and intensifying with every sound coming from the other end.
"Good." His tone has returned to that state of ease (gentleness) and she hates that a small piece of her resents him- resents Taehyung- for that.
It's not his fault Jeongguk doesn't feel for her the way she wishes he would (could).
She wishes she could be the bigger person, but she's not.
"You should get some rest." He chides gently, and she is taken aback by the level of concern inputted into his inflection. She's not used to hearing Jeon Jeongguk speak with worry interwoven with his statements.
It stirs a deep-seated sense of longing within her.
She considers what it would be like to stand in Taehyung's shoes for a day, to be the recipient of the other's concern- the sole focus of his attention.
"If I don't remind you, who will?" She can make out the doting lilt to his voice. "You're practically a grown man yet you barely remember to eat, let alone take care of yourself." There's humor coloring his tone now, playful in essence, but she can still vividly make out the unabashed fondness coating his words.
"I guess I'll just have to stay by your side forever to constantly remind you."
She feels like she's going to be sick.
The words resemble something too close to a promise.
He laughs, and it's startling how disparate he sounds when he is free of the tribulations of his thoughts, uninhibited by the toil of his duties and the burden of his responsibilities resting upon his shoulders. It's startling how content he sounds in this very moment.
It's a captivating thing, she thinks wistfully.
If only she could be the reason behind his laughter.
"Go to sleep. We both know you need it."
What makes him so special, she wants to ask. But she is utterly terrified of doing so- doesn't know that she has the right to, quite frankly.
"Sweet dreams, Tae." And it's disconcerting how much meaning (depth) a few words can hold, yet those three words seem to carry the weight of the world where the other is concerned.
It's unnerving how intensely he sounds like someone... enamored.
She wonders if Jeongguk is able to see what she does.
"I can't wait to see you again."
She can't help thinking she's a despicable human being for hoping he never does.
~~~
She hangs off his arm all night, reminding herself to maintain appearances and my, what a pretty picture they do paint.
It's too bad they're nothing more than a finely crafted image, fabricated to appease both their families and to upkeep a fortified sense of camaraderie amongst establishments.
And if there's a part of her that secretly wishes it were more than a facade-
Well, that's an entirely different story altogether.
She spends the evening displaying niceties, reacting when expected and gracing her father's partners with gracious smiles.
She feels like her lips just might be permanently etched in some variation of a smile by the end of the night.
And all the while, she watches as Jeongguk's previously exalted mood slowly begins to sour throughout the night, his features hardening with every passing moment and the barely contained mirth she caught sight of earlier this evening dampening with every wistful glance towards the marble entrance.
If he's attempting to be subtle with his actions, she thinks he is failing miserably.
She's been watching him watch that door all evening, and there's a malevolent little voice inside her head that taunts her with rooted implications and ugly divulgements.
She watches as the sliver of warmth gradually recedes from his features, even as her touch lingers on his arm all night, and replaces itself with its usual stoicism (indifference). The anticipatory glint that was prevalent within his orbs is nearly gone now.
She feels a shiver travel from the base of her spine at the switch in his demeanor alone.
She watches as he retreats into the impassive persona he's accustomed to, behind the walls he so fastidiously erects around himself, sheathing his disappointment (his anguish) behind the mask he has perfected- the one that only begins to erode when darkness finally breaches the sky, somewhere in between late night phone calls and a world constructed for their eyes (hearts) alone.
There's something astringent permeating her senses.
She wishes he didn't look quite this distraught.
(She wishes he didn't wear the face of heartbreak so well over someone else).
There's an afflicted grimace marring his features, even while he exchanges greetings politely- a hint of a scowl that doesn't quite leave his face even as he remains the perfect vision of civility, manners impeccable like only someone who has been conditioned to behave accordingly their entire life would know.
He's back to the Jeongguk she is familiar with, the glimpse of someone wholly different (elated) long extinguished.
She doesn't know what's worse.
A Jeongguk that regards her with impassivity, or a Jeongguk that thrives over the existence of someone else.
She finds she doesn't really have an answer for that.
It's about halfway through the night when she finally stumbles upon the reason for Jeongguk's private smiles at night, for the unbridled surge of affection that wraps around his windpipe as he relays gentle declarations of friendship (devotion).
She feels Jeongguk notice him before she does. The other is in the midst of discussing future business endeavors when she sees his eyes flicker towards the hallway and her breath catches at the way his entire face suddenly lights up, the ice melting from his features as his demeanor shifts into something inconceivably soft- exposed.
The spark that she thought had died out in his eyes suddenly flickers back to life, a fresh wave of exultation barreling into him and it's breathtaking, how the other is practically vibrating with a newfound sense of anticipation and delectation.
His eyes flare with something radiant and she finds herself enraptured by the sight.
She reluctantly follows his line of vision, shifting her head to the right and that's when she catches a glimpse of a rather youthful looking male lingering by the door, fingers tugging nervously at his cuffs and she finds herself momentarily taken aback by how good-looking he is.
"Excuse me."
With that, she suddenly feels an absence of warmth besides her, the other unwrapping her fingers from his arm deftly before making his way towards the direction of the other with an ardency she has never encountered before. She feels a hot flare of embarrassment in the pit of her belly at how quickly she was dismissed- left to fare alone amongst Jeongguk's associates and smiling apologetically at the other's abrupt departure.
She watches as the other male (this must be Taehyung, she thinks) glances around the luxurious ballroom anxiously, eyes flitting rapidly through the crowd before glancing in their direction and she thinks she can pinpoint the exact moment he catches sight of Jeongguk navigating through the hall towards him.
The way his expression brightens- eyes glimmering so incandescently that even she can feel the rays from here- reminds her a little bit of the way Jeongguk had looked when he finally laid eyes upon the other.
The other doesn't seem to get a word in before he's swooped up in what appears to be a fierce hug, laughter and blinding smiles exchanged between them and she's never felt quite as insignificant as she does right now.
The invisible strings in her chest pull in a displeasing manner.
Jeongguk holds the other closely, like doing anything else would result in him slipping from his fingers, a mirage shattered before his very eyes. His hands are curled around the other's waist in a manner that looks far too intimate for a pair of friends, and she-
There's a hurdle in her throat that she can't seem to get over.
She excuses herself silently from the crowd she was left with (the one Jeongguk had left her with) before making her way listlessly towards the pair of individuals lingering by the entrance, their surroundings seemingly forgotten as they appear undeniably lost in each another.
They don't seem to notice that they've drawn attention to themselves- multiple pairs of eyes glancing over curiously at the unprecedented exchange- too caught up in each other to pay much heed to anything else.
Various onlookers regard the couple with inquisitiveness written in their miens, interest piqued at the rare sight of the Jeon heir interacting so casually (comfortably) with a nameless other, only ever acquainted with his distant smiles and prim mannerisms.
If only they knew, she thinks acidulously.
She doesn't want to want to be that person, vindictive and intent on hurting others through her own agenda, but there's something distasteful festering inside and she isn't quite sure how to stifle it.
Jeongguk is smiling at the other indulgently, eyes alight and unconcealed as he stares at his friend in awe (irreversible fondness) and she hates that there's a stab of envy at that.
What she wouldn't give to have him look at her like that, with undisguised captivation and enthrallment filling his irises.
She approaches them slowly, her defenses flourishing by the tenfold as she watches Jeongguk gazing at the other with the utmost adoration, the hardness of his features visibly diminished and the shadows around his eyes cast in the light of the other's smile and she thinks it's almost beautiful-
How devoted Jeongguk looks to this man before him, like he's the one who hung the fucking moon and stars in his once bleak world.
And how incredibly fond this male appears of him in return, obsidian orbs twinkling with the very constellations that Jeongguk seemed to have instilled there himself.
It's funny.
She's the one who's had Jeongguk in her bed these past few months, lying with him and allowing him to explore the curves of her body as she acquaints herself with the dips and valleys of his own, yet-
She can't help but to feel as though she's the one intruding on something far more intimate than anything she could ever begin to grasp.
She clears her throat lightly as she comes to stand before them, pleasant smile back in place as she regards their proximity closely.
Jeongguk has yet to acknowledge her, eyes still fixated intently on the other as though imprinting the image to his mind.
Her insides burn.
It's the other who looks up first, breaking from Jeongguk's loaded gaze and glancing up at the newcomer with curious eyes and an amicable smile.
She hates that she finds herself slightly charmed by the expressiveness in those dusky eyes and the genuineness to his smile, most especially because she's spent the majority of her life fortifying an image and constructing grins and happiness in the presence of others.
She doesn't need a reason to like him- to understand why he seems to mean so much to Jeongguk.
"Jeongguk," She tests the word out on her tongue, glancing at Taehyung all the while and noticing how he glances between the both of them inquiringly.
Jeongguk finally manages to tear his gaze away from the other, but it seems reluctant even within her eyes. He looks at her like he's forgotten the sole purpose of her existence and has only just realized his misstep. He at least has the decency to appear somewhat contrite, running a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly.
One arm remains securely wrapped around the other's waist, however, and she detests the surfacing thoughts about how much it looks like it belongs.
He glances back towards the other, as though he can hardly bear to keep his eyes peeled away for long and she-
She's never been so close to someone before and felt quite this invisible.
The corners of her eyes begin to sting.
"This is Taehyung." He offers by way of explanation, but his voice sounds distant to her ears, the center of his attention already focused towards the other. The way he murmurs his name so delicately, with care and veneration dripping from his tone-
"Hello." She vaguely hears the other male's rich baritone resonate besides her and she thinks she supplies a quiet greeting of her own, but she's not entirely certain.
It makes her chest ache with an acute sense of longing.
"I was afraid you weren't going to show."
She wonders if Taehyung knows just how accurate that statement is.
There's a soft laugh originating from the other, the sound dipped in amusement and fondness, and she's subsequently reminded of wind chimes and church bells.
"I promised you I would, didn't I Gukkie?" There's something inexplicably gentle circling Taehyung's jet black orbs as he stares up at the other, and she couldn't miss it even if she tried. She recognizes it because it's the same look reflected in Jeongguk's eyes.
For some reason, she's beginning to feel like an outsider and she doesn't know why she feels that way when she's the one who spent the past few months by Jeongguk's side.
"I guess you did." He concedes softly, eyes crinkling at the corners and the lump in her throat expands.
"Sorry I was late." She hears Taehyung whisper apologetically, countenance shifting into something muted (penitent) as he glances up at the other worriedly. "I had to borrow this suit from Jimin."
There's an openness to his expression, as though he's wearing his heart on the slope of his features for him and she nearly finds herself caught up in the whirlwind of their unbidden emotions.
She sees Jeongguk shake his head lightly in what can only be described as feigned annoyance, for his raven orbs are dancing with mirth.
"I told you I would send you one." There's a trace of a smile tugging at his lips even as he seems to be trying his best to hide it.
She watches as Taehyung shoves at him playfully, eyes lit with levity and fabricated exasperation.
"What, like your kept woman?" He teases, attempting to push the other away but Jeongguk has a firm grip around his waist, as though unwilling to let Taehyung fall even an inch away from him and she can feel her nails forming crescent marks against her palms. "That's exactly why I went to Jiminnie. It would be ridiculous for you to buy something just for one night."
"You know I don't care about that."
She hears what he doesn't say.
As long as you're here.
Taehyung's features soften and she sees the way his smile evolves into something that looks a little too personal for her eyes.
"I know." He whispers softly, as though it's meant for Jeongguk's ears only and the conviction in his voice steals her breath away.
It's only now that she begins to take notice of the state of the other's suit. It looks prim- pressed and clean- but noticeably worn in as though already put to use a number of times before, and not nearly as elegant nor as expensive as most evening tuxes she's accustomed to seeing on her father's business associates.
There's nothing about it (about him) that particularly stands out, yet-
The way Jeongguk is looking at him, utterly spellbound and taken with every last fibre of being-
It makes her feel like not even the most finely cut gems could compare in his eyes.
And she, who layered her figure in diamonds and the most luxurious of gowns, who spent the majority of the evening primping herself to appear as captivating as she possibly could-
She suddenly feels like she can't even begin to hold a candle to the other.
"Come with me?"
She's starting to think that Jeongguk can see no one else when the other is around, thoroughly bewitched by the male standing before him and it is simultaneously the most engrossing yet harrowing thing to behold.
She secretly wishes she could fill those shoes, if only for a moment.
"Okay."
The smile that blooms across Jeongguk's lips breaks her heart the tiniest bit.
Jeongguk turns to her again (finally), as though only just remembering that she was standing there all along and the way he glances at her somewhat apologetically sends a wave of nausea through her system.
"Sorry," It sounds half-hearted even to her ears. "Do you mind continuing without me for a while?"
She wonders how horrible it would be of her to say yes.
"No, of course not." The lie sears her tongue.
He flashes her an uncertain smile, compunctious in nature, before turning back to the other and she knows she is but an abstract memory by then.
Jeongguk glances at his companion, midnight orbs glinting with poorly concealed excitation and she considers whether the other has any idea how resplendent his glow is.
"Come on." He murmurs, voice gentle, before guiding the other in the direction across the hall.
She stands- rooted to the spot- watching Jeongguk lead the other away and there's something malignant invading her thoughts, threatening to seize all rationale, but she tries her best to quell it.
She watches as Taehyung glances over his shoulder, the expression in his eyes almost remorseful as he whispers quietly behind him.
"It was nice meeting you."
She can't bring herself to return the sentiment.
As she watches them maneuver through the crowd towards the main balcony, Jeongguk's arm wrapped tightly around the other's waist and most everyone else watching studiously as they pass by, she only then realizes that the other hadn't even bothered to introduce her.
~~~
The rest of the evening drags on unceasingly.
She attempts to proceed with small talk, engaging in conversation and plastering a smile on her face as expected of her, but her thoughts are far from the point of discussion before her.
Instead, they're on the pair of individuals standing just outside the balcony ledge.
They haven't left that spot- haven't left each other- for what feels like a millennium and the unease is starting to settle uncomfortably beneath her skin.
Another hour in and she decides she's had enough.
Though she typically bemoans the prospect of meeting with her father, she remembers tonight both of their families require their presence to discuss expansion potentiality and for once, she's thankful for such an ordeal.
Because quite honestly, she doesn't know how much longer she can endure having to deflect intrusive thoughts of the two of them together- alone and free to revel in each other's presence, sharing words in the midst of the night meant for the two of them alone.
It's unsettling.
How the bitterness threatens to consume her.
She approaches the balcony door with heavy footsteps, her heart feeling like it's in danger of caving in on itself as she prepares herself for whatever she may find on the other side of that glass door.
What she's terrified of discovering.
What she finds feels worse than anything she could have possibly envisioned.
The sliding glass door is left slightly ajar, and she can barely make out the words passed between them but she sees their forms clearly. They remain completely oblivious to her presence lingering by the door, far too enraptured with one another and it incites a sharp pang in her chest.
There's nothing even slightly risqué about their positions- nothing to indicate they're involved in anything that would evoke castigations or a scandal- yet it feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over her head regardless, rendering her motionless and numb in her antipathy.
They're both leaning gracefully against the ledge, no perceivable amount of space left between them as Jeongguk stares down entirely consumed by the other's expression, a tender smile gracing his features as he watches Taehyung speak animatedly.
The other is gazing up at Jeongguk with just as much sentiment emanating from his eyes and it's horrifying how distinctly it looks like there's absolutely no one else in this world between them.
But it's the way their fingers are slightly intertwined that makes her stomach turn.
The way Jeongguk gravitates towards the other, frame inclined towards him as he listens to Taehyung recount a story and the way his fingers subconsciously play with the other's, thumb gently caressing the surface of his hand as though not even he is made fully aware of his actions.
Breathing seems to come with more difficulty this time around.
And then Jeongguk is suddenly disentangling their fingers and extending a hand to brush upon the curve of Taehyung's cheek, and she watches with something distasteful churning in her belly as the other seems to lean into his touch naturally, as though seeking the warmth of his palm and it-
It shatters something in her.
The way Jeongguk is gazing at him, with something too close to love in his eyes-
It makes her feel like she's dying on the inside.
She doesn't want to do this anymore- be a spectator to whatever is so profound but has yet to seemingly develop between them.
She slides open the glass door and this successfully breaks them from their trance (from their devoted attentiveness to each other) and she watches as Taehyung suddenly takes a step back, putting space between himself and the other and inciting a frown from the male in front of him. Jeongguk's hand lingers in the air, as though mindlessly chasing the warmth of the other before he lets it drop to his side reluctantly.
Taehyung looks somewhat flustered (caught off guard) as he steadfastly avoids Jeongguk's gaze before glancing in her direction instead, offering a weak smile and a brief nod in acknowledgment.
She hates it.
Hates that she finds it so hard to loathe him when it's the one thing she wants most.
But that doesn't mean she won't try- won't try to make herself as detestable as possible because this is what he (what they) have made possible.
She justifies it this way.
Justifies her actions (as deplorable as they may be) as she sidles up slowly to Jeongguk's side, curling an arm around his intimately- as though she's the one worthy of such a position- and she watches as that smile falters, those once bright eyes dimming ever so slightly.
She drowns in her self-hatred.
"Jeongguk, we're supposed to meet up with your father, remember" She goads gently, glancing up at him coyly but he's not even looking at her, too busy staring intently (longingly) at the other who now seems incapable of looking him in the eye.
She sees the way Jeongguk's expression wavers at this, the joy that was etched so distinctly within his features just earlier now crumbling like rubble at his feet. The prominent distress that glazes his irises causes her to nearly swallow her own tongue.
"Tae-" He starts, detaching himself from her hold.
The torment in his voice is nearly tangible.
"You should go, Jeongguk." The other whispers weakly, and it's a far cry from the verve that was wrapped around his cadence earlier. He glances up and smiles kindly at the other, the grin stretching convincingly across his lips but she sees the sparkle that was once prominent in his eyes now dampened.
But still-
She sees him try. There's still undeniable fondness painting his dark orbs, but there's a hue of sadness (a shade of affliction) that now blends into the canvas and something wholly unpleasant blooms inside of her.
"Don't worry about me, I should probably get going as well." It almost sounds persuasive to her own ears. "Hoseok's going to kill me if I bail on another one of his movie nights."
She thinks, if she were in a different life- one where she wasn't possibly in love with one of the main characters- she would do whatever she could to ensure that the protagonists found their happy ending.
But she's not.
And she's selfish. She doesn't want to (can't) give him up.
So she merely watches uncomfortably instead as the other grapples for an acceptable explanation, wearing a smile that resembles the kinds she's so accustomed to.
On him, it looks out of place, however.
Twisted and all wrong, and she thinks smiles like those don't belong anywhere near people like Kim Taehyung.
"I'll be fine, Jeongguk." He adds earnestly, plastering on another one of those forced grins and it's discomfiting to witness.
"Go," She hears him laugh softly and there's an almost pained expression molded into Jeongguk's features, unnatural and agonized and she tries not to let the sight affect her.
(She fails).
"We'll catch up again soon, yeah?" He murmurs placatingly, as though attempting to appease the other and she's once again thrown by the sheer devotedness in his tone and she wonders why it had to be like this.
Why she had to be the one to shatter whatever fragility lay between them. Why she had to be the one to fall hopelessly in love with someone who would probably never look at her the way he looks at him.
Why she couldn't have been the one to give them their happiness instead.
She watches as Taehyung inches closer- though there's hesitation plaguing his movements- before melting into the other's chest, arms coming around to embrace him reassuringly and she doesn't miss the way he seems to breathe easier at that.
How they both seem to breathe easier- a conjoined exhale of relief pulled from their lips as they meld together, unwinding under the other's touch.
She looks away, feeling like she owes them this at the very least. This small moment of privacy and affection exchanged between them.
"Bye, Gukkie."
She thinks this must be why there are thousands of ballads dedicated to unfulfilled love stories and goodbyes, the inevitable heartbreak they carry with them.
When they finally break apart, she notices how Jeongguk's eyes are varnished with something dolorous and he's gazing at the other like they're already years apart, separated by too many miles between them- aching for the next moment of utopia that they can steal together.
She doesn't know if her chest aches more for herself or for them.
"Bye, Tae."
She thinks maybe it's a little bit of both.
She reaches for Jeongguk's arm charily, and he finally manages to rip himself from the sight of the other, as if he were to stare any longer there would be other things (inestimable things) jeopardized.
He spares one last peek towards the other male- gaze abundant with his woe and yearning- before he finally allows her to tug him away gingerly. She pulls him towards the door, his strides indisposed, before he glances over his shoulder where Taehyung is standing with a faint smile and Jeongguk looks absolutely wrecked, his features contorting in his anguish.
She doesn't want to accept that she's the cause of it.
She watches as Jeongguk forcibly turns away and heads back inside, as though lingering much longer would demolish all his willpower to stay away. When he turns around, his features are packaged back in place- any indication of warmth or affection eradicated as he stows his emotions away behind his indifference, and all traces of the person she caught sight of earlier wiped away.
When she gazes back up at him, the light in his eyes has dulled.
She picks up on the way he carries himself with an air of frigidity, posture locked and upright as though he is expending every last ounce of energy towards not turning around and running straight back towards the other.
Her fingers flex around his arm.
Jeongguk steadfastly looks straight ahead, eyes blank and expression giving nothing away but she senses how tense the other is beside her and if she had to take a stab at what might currently be preoccupying his mind, she thinks she would know exactly what (who) that is.
Jeongguk does not look back, but she does.
And when she does, she almost wishes she hadn't.
Because through the slip in the door she can make out Taehyung's figure bathed in moonlight, slumped and looking sapped of the vivacity that once vitalized his form. He looks unbelievably small standing there alone- frighteningly unsure of himself, and gone is the energy and radiance that diffused from his very being as he flourished in the other's presence.
For some reason, that revelation is a lot more difficult to stomach than she could have imagined.
She forces herself to turn away.
It's for the best, she tells herself.
Because the truth is, someone like Kim Taehyung could never belong (be accepted) in their harsh and unforgiving world, as distasteful (unjust) as that reality may be.
It's for the best, she repeats like a mantra in her head.
She doesn't know who she's trying to convince anymore.
~~~
Later that evening, when the other is towering over her, expression closed off even as he sinks further inside, driving her inane with need-
She watches him carefully, nails digging harshly into his back and legs locked tightly around his waist.
She watches as the impassivity gradually dissipates as he loses himself further in his pleasure, thrusts increasing in fervor and pace and she almost convinces herself that this change is caused by her alone.
But then she notices the way his eyes gloss over, and when he gazes down-
It's like he's looking right past (through) her and something freezes over in her chest.
She doesn't know how she never realized it before.
How he looks at her without ever really seeing her- the way a dazed sheen cloaks his dark eyes as he moves inside of her, like his mind is supplementing a different image altogether than the one presented before his very eyes.
She's never been the one he saw-
Even while she was standing so conspicuously before him, and it causes her heart to drop to the pit of her belly as she feels the other rock forward zealously, sending tremors of lust through her spine.
There's something acerbic coating her tongue.
It tastes a lot like heartbreak.
He appears further and further away from her, a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead as he propels his hips, wrenching a gasp from the base of her throat and he groans roughly as she clenches around him.
"Fuck."
His eyes are unseeing as he approaches his peak and he looks abandoned in the throes of his own passion, something entirely separate from her-
And she doesn't understand how she can possibly be this close to someone yet feel so far away.
When she finally succumbs to the apex of her desire, it's with his name on her lips and the ghost of another's on his own.
He follows shortly after, swearing hotly as she tightens around him and a string of expletives ricochet past his lips.
The haze seems to clear from the other's eyes after a sustained moment and the aloofness trickles back in.
The air feels brisk between them.
He peels himself away, discarding all evidence of their act before slipping back into his side of the bed, furthest away from her and with his back turned. She tries not to let the stinging in her eyes manifest.
He already feels an ocean apart.
~~~
She's still staring at his back- closed off and distant- when she senses him finally submitting to the draw of slumber.
She hears his breathing even out, a steady and deep rhythmic pattern and the tenseness defining his back slowly seeps out.
It's always easier to watch him like this, when he isn't so emotionally vacant and miles away from her, his thoughts allocated to something (someone) else.
It's easier to persuade herself that he doesn't feel quite as out of reach then.
Her eyes are still fixated on the span of his back when she notices him stir, shuffling in his sleep and she holds her breath in anticipation.
He seems particularly restless tonight (something cumbersome weighing down his subconscious) and she watches as he turns in his rest, the side of his profile clearly in view.
He does not awaken but she notices the furrow to his brow (the unease twisting his features) as though even in dreamland he fails to find repose.
She watches with a pounding heart as the crease between his brows deepens, features morphing into something that looks almost afflictive and her heart nearly does stop when she hears him mutter something softly in his slumber.
It's indiscernible to her ears but she notices the way he continues mumbling inaudibly, emitting soft whimpers as the disquiet seems to peak in his dormancy.
When she finally makes out the words that seem to be woven devoutly against his lips, she feels her heart rive all over again.
"Taehyung."
The revelation lays heavily within her stomach (her heart) and she almost forgets to breathe. The sides of her eyes prickle but she keeps the tears at bay.
Because while he may call out for, may ache for someone else-
She's still the one that gets to lie beside him at night.
She shifts cautiously on the bed, curling closer towards the other to minimize the amount of space between them. She eyes him warily, gaze calculative as he continues to turn in his sleep, traces of the other's name still lingering on his breath.
It's not a competition.
But if it were, she'd content herself with the knowledge that at least in their world- where it counts the most- she's winning.