Hey there, my amazing readers! 🌟

Okay, let’s have a little heart-to-heart before you dive into this chapter. I know you’re reading (yes, I see those silent readers 👀), but... WHERE ARE THE COMMENTS? Seriously, guys, it’s like crickets out here. 🦗💔

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Taehyung finally spoke, his voice cold as ice. "Enough."

His friends exchanged amused looks but said nothing as Taehyung set his glass down with precision, his movements deliberate. Without another word, he made his way toward the dance floor, his presence cutting through the crowd like a blade.

Miso noticed him immediately, her laughter fading as their eyes met. Her smile lingered, teasing almost, but there was a flicker of curiosity in her gaze.

Taehyung stopped a few steps away from them, his presence commanding. He extended a hand toward her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"May I?" he asked, his voice smooth, leaving no room for refusal.

Yoongi chuckled lightly, stepping back just enough to let their tension simmer. "Well, it seems my time is up. Don't kill me for borrowing her, she's all yours." he quipped, winking at Miso as he released her hand.

"I'll consider it," Taehyung replied coldly, his eyes narrowing slightly at Yoongi, who simply bowed mockingly before leaving the two of them.

Miso turned to Taehyung, her brow arched in mock surprise. "Oh, so now you've decided I exist?" she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Taehyung smirked, unbothered by her sharp tongue. "I was giving you your moment. You seem to enjoy attention," he replied smoothly, extending his hand to her.

She hesitated for a moment, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "And what makes you think I want to dance with you?"

"Because I won't take no for an answer," he said, his hand unwavering, his gaze locked onto hers.

Miso rolled her eyes but placed her hand in his. "Fine. Don't step on my dress," she said, her voice laced with sass.

Taehyung pulled her closer, His hand rested securely on Miso's waist as they began to glide across the dance floor. The soft melody of the orchestra surrounded them, yet their world seemed confined to just the two of them. Their steps were perfectly synchronized, but the tension between them hummed like a string pulled taut.

"You're surprisingly good at this," Miso commented, tilting her head as she studied him.

"I aim to impress," Taehyung replied, his tone smooth and playful.

"Could've fooled me," she shot back, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "You seemed perfectly content sulking in the corner while I had fun."

"Fun?" he echoed, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. "If that's what you call dancing with Yoongi, then I suppose my definition is different."

"Jealous much?" she teased, her smile daring him to deny it.

Taehyung leaned in slightly, his lips near her ear. "Territorially so," he murmured, his voice a mix of playfulness and possession.

Miso raised a brow, her smile unwavering. "You don't own me, Taehyung."

"Don't I?" he countered, pulling her just a fraction closer, the heat of his gaze almost overwhelming.

She huffed lightly, her tone still playful. "You've got a lot of nerve."

"And you've got a sharp tongue," he replied, smirking.

Miso tilted her head, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "You know, for someone who claims not to care, you seem awfully determined to prove a point tonight."

Taehyung smirked, his grip on her waist firming slightly. "I wasn't aware that dancing with my wife required proving anything."

"Really?" she quipped, arching a brow. "Because it looked like you were ready to burn holes in Yoongi's suit with those death glares of yours."

His smirk faltered for a split second before returning with renewed confidence. "I don't recall glaring," he said smoothly. "I was merely observing."

"Observing?" she repeated with mock surprise, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. "Looked more like territorial jealousy to me."

Taehyung chuckled low, the sound deep and rich. "And if it was? Would it bother you?"

"Hardly," she replied, feigning indifference. "But it's amusing to see the mighty Kim Taehyung acting possessive."

"Possessive?" he echoed, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "When it comes to you, Miso, I think you'd find I'm more than possessive."

Her breath hitched slightly at the intensity in his tone, but she quickly masked it with another teasing jab. "Well, if you're so possessive, maybe you should start by not ignoring me all night."

"I wasn't ignoring you," he replied, his voice cool yet laced with amusement. "I was letting you entertain yourself."

"How generous of you," she shot back, rolling her eyes. "Letting me? You make it sound like I need your permission."

His lips twitched into a sly smile. "I wouldn't say you need it, but it's cute how you think you're completely independent."

Miso narrowed her eyes at him, her tone turning sassy. "I am independent, Taehyung. Just because you're my husband doesn't mean you get to control me."

"I wouldn't dream of controlling you," he said smoothly, leaning in just enough for his voice to lower. "But I'll admit, I prefer to be the only man in your orbit."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she refused to let him win. "Well, then you might want to work on your charm, Mr. Kim. Because right now, Yoongi is leagues ahead of you."

His grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly, his gaze sharpening. " Don't test my patience, Miso."

She smirked, pleased to have gotten under his skin. "Touched a nerve, have I?"

Taehyung leaned closer, his lips barely an inch from her ear. "Keep pushing, and you'll see just how far that nerve stretches," he murmured, his tone sending a shiver down her spine.

Miso's heart skipped a beat, but she refused to let him win. "You're all bark, Taehyung. No bite."

His deep chuckle reverberated between them. "Is that a challenge?"

She looked up at him, her gaze defiant. "Maybe it is."

For a moment, the playful banter faded, replaced by something heavier, something electric. Their eyes locked, and the space between them seemed to shrink despite the elegant, measured steps of their dance. The world around them blurred into nothingness, leaving only the unspoken tension and their quickened breaths.

"You're infuriating," she finally said, breaking the silence, though her voice was softer now.

"And you're intoxicating," he replied without missing a beat, his words carrying a weight that made her falter for just a moment.

They continued their dance, their movements fluid and elegant, though their words remained sharp and teasing. Despite the banter, there was an undeniable pull between them, a magnetic force that neither could resist. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

Miso's heart skipped a beat, though she refused to show it. "You're staring," she said, her voice softer now, almost a whisper.

"Can you blame me?" he replied, his tone low, his eyes tracing every detail of her face.

She felt her cheeks heat but quickly masked it with another sassy remark. "Don't get used to it."

"Too late," he said, his smirk deepening.They were lost in their own world, their gazes locked, their movements perfectly in sync.

Their connection broke when the crowd erupted into applause, the sudden noise pulling them back to reality. Miso blinked, momentarily disoriented, as Taehyung straightened and released her slightly, though his hand remained possessively on her waist.

But before she could step away, he pulled her back to him with a firm yet gentle grip on her waist. He leaned in once more, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered in her ear, his voice so low and sensual it sent a shiver down her spine. His voice low and almost sinful. "Remember this, Miso. You're mine, and I don't like sharing what's mine."

His warm breath against her ear and the smirk that played on his lips left her momentarily speechless. Before she could muster a retort, he pulled back, his cold facade slipping back into place as he led her off the dance floor, leaving the crowd murmuring in curiosity and awe.

---

The grand gala was in full swing, the soft hum of polite chatter filling the air, and the clinking of glasses resonating in the opulent hall. The evening had taken a more formal tone, yet there was still an underlying tension in the air that no one could quite place. Guests mingled beneath the golden chandeliers, their conversations blending with the rich sound of classical music. Kim Taehyung stood by the side of his father, Kim Taemoo, chatting in low tones, while his sharp eyes occasionally scanned the room. He was ever-watchful, though his demeanor remained calm and collected.

Kim Miso, standing near Yoongi, was about to take a seat beside him, as she had all evening. When Taehyung's hand-firm and unyielding-landed on her arm, pulling her back toward him.

"Sit next to me," Taehyung commanded with a soft, yet unmistakable authority. There was a playful gleam in his eyes, but his tone left no room for negotiation.

Miso's eyes narrowed at him, the defiance in her expression evident. She opened her mouth to protest but hesitated. It wasn't that she was afraid to challenge him, but the last time she had tried to fight his commands, it hadn't gone well. Instead, she shot a look of frustration toward Yoongi, who was watching the exchange with an amused expression. His lips curved into a slight smirk, and with a small gesture of his hand, he gave her the unspoken permission to sit where Taehyung had instructed.

"Go on," Yoongi mouthed with a chuckle. "Don't get too mad at him."

Miso's lips twitched into a pout, her brows furrowing slightly as she turned to face Taehyung, who was still watching her with that devilish smirk of his.

"Fine," she muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "I guess I have no choice."

Taehyung smirked even more, pleased by her reaction. Miso returned her gaze to Taehyung, who sat with a satisfied smirk, confident in his decision. His hand remained resting on the back of her chair, a subtle yet possessive gesture.He knew exactly how to get under her skin, and it was evident from the way she reluctantly settled into the chair next to him that she was just a little irritated. As she adjusted herself, her pout deepened, and her eyes briefly met Yoongi's across the table. He gave her an exaggerated wink, as if to reassure her that he wasn't going anywhere.

"So, little baby, are you really upset about not sitting next to Yoongi? How cute," Taehyung teased, his tone playful, almost taunting.

Miso glared at him, crossing her arms in defiance. "I'm not a baby, Taehyung," she said, her voice edged with sassiness, "And I'm perfectly capable of sitting where I want."

Taehyung leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a near whisper, though he was certain no one else could hear them. "You look cute when you're mad," he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

Miso's eyes flicked to him, her gaze sharp as she straightened up, the sassiness returning to her tone. "Oh? So now I'm cute?" she shot back, crossing her arms. "Is that what you think, Mr. Bossy?"

Taehyung chuckled, clearly entertained by her sass. "You've always been cute, even when you try to act tough," he said with a smirk, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Though I like this side of you. A little angry, a little feisty... It suits you."

Miso rolled her eyes, her lips curling into a defiant smile. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not here for your ego boost."

The conversation around them swirled with laughter and polite exchanges, but Miso was only half-present. Her mind was occupied with the fact that Taehyung had forced her to sit beside him when she'd much rather have sat next to Yoongi. She found herself growing increasingly annoyed with each playful comment Taehyung made, her frustration only building as he continued to toy with her.

As the main course was served, Taehyung leaned forward again, his smirk still in place, clearly enjoying the tension between them. "I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed," he said, his voice smooth and teasing. "I thought you'd be more appreciative of my company."

Miso's glare intensified, and she leaned back in her chair, clearly fed up with the back-and-forth. "Appreciative?" she repeated with a sarcastic laugh. "Of you? I'd rather be anywhere else than here, sitting next to you."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her reaction. "Really?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. "You'd rather be next to Yoongi?"

Miso crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pursed. " Ofcourse I would."

" Ofcourse?" Taehyung leaned in closer, his voice dropping an octave, his teasing now turning into something else-something more dangerous, more possessive. "I don't think so. You're mine tonight. Don't forget that."

Her heart fluttered at his words, a mix of anger and confusion twisting inside her, but she refused to let him see her discomfort. Instead, she shot back with an edge to her voice. "Don't flatter yourself."

Their verbal sparring continued throughout the dinner, the playful tension between them palpable. Taehyung was enjoying the back-and-forth far too much, clearly pleased that he had managed to get under her skin, while Miso did everything she could to maintain her composure. Yet, despite her irritation, there was a small part of her-deep down-that found it all strangely exhilarating.

By the time dessert was served, the air between them was thick with unspoken challenges, and though Miso had spent the entire evening in a battle of wills with Taehyung, part of her couldn't help but feel a strange pull toward him. Whether she liked it or not, there was something undeniably magnetic about his presence. But for now, she kept her guard up, determined to remain as defiant as ever.

-----
As the evening wore on and dinner came to a close, the room filled with soft laughter and the hum of casual conversations. The soft clinking of glasses and the rustling of cutlery on fine china created a background melody that seemed to fade into the distance as Miso sat at the table, her mind still tangled in the earlier exchange with Taehyung. She tried to keep her focus on the conversation around her, to not let the energy of the gala get to her, but something in the air shifted suddenly.

Her gaze flitted across the room, catching sight of familiar faces, the glittering gowns and sharp suits, and the men who were all too used to the formality of the evening. But then-her eyes landed on someone, and the world around her seemed to freeze.

At first, she thought it was just her imagination. She blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the unease creeping up her spine. A man stood in the far corner of the room, engaged in a low conversation with Taehyung's father. He was tall, his silhouette sharp against the glow of the chandelier above. His presence was almost haunting, like an unreadable shadow lurking at the edge of her vision. His features were obscured in the dim light, his face partially hidden, but even in the faint light, there was something unnervingly familiar about him.

Her breath caught in her throat. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be him.

She blinked again, but when her eyes landed on him once more, he was still there, his presence as imposing as it had been all those years ago. Her stomach dropped, and the icy grip of fear wrapped itself around her heart. It was him. The man who had haunted her nightmares. The man she had spent so many years trying to forget. The man whose face had been burned into her memory like a scar that would never fade.

The world around her spun for a moment. Her hands clenched into fists, her palms sweaty as her mind raced to process the reality of the situation. How was he here? Why was he here?

She could feel the panic rising in her chest like a tidal wave, but she forced herself to stay still, her back stiffening as she fought to keep the tremor from betraying her. She had to control herself. She had to. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to see the terror that had suddenly taken hold of her. She glanced at Yoongi, who was engaged in a conversation with the people beside him, but she couldn't focus on him. She couldn't focus on anything except the man in the corner.

For a few moments, she tried to reason with herself. She told herself she was just imagining things, that it couldn't possibly be him. But deep down, she knew better. The man had always had a way of slipping into her life when she least expected it, always appearing where she least wanted him. And now, here he was, back in her world again, making the ground beneath her feel unstable.

She could feel herself slipping, the walls she had so carefully constructed around her emotions beginning to crack. Her breath became shallow, and her fingers trembled slightly as she placed them on the edge of the table, desperately trying to steady herself. She needed to stay calm. She couldn't let anyone see that something was wrong. Not here, not now.

But it was becoming harder and harder to keep up the façade. Her heart pounded in her chest, thumping louder with each passing second. Her mind was in chaos, images from her past flashing before her eyes, each one more vivid and terrifying than the last. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to push the memories away, trying to focus on the present.

It wasn't working. She could feel the familiar pull of little space at the edges of her consciousness, the comforting retreat that had saved her countless times before. But not now. Not in front of all these people. Not when the nightmare was so close.

She opened her eyes again, and the man was still standing there, speaking to Taehyung's father, his back turned toward her. The voice in her head screamed at her to leave-to run away, to escape before it was too late. But she didn't move. She couldn't. She couldn't let anyone know.

The atmosphere after had shifted subtly, though no one seemed to notice but Taehyung and Yoongi. Miso's usual vibrant energy had dimmed, replaced with a strange stillness that made both men uneasy. Taehyung had been watching her closely ever since he noticed her sudden discomfort, the way her eyes would dart nervously towards the corner of the room, to the man who had sent her into a spiral of fear.

Her earlier defiance had been replaced by something more fragile, something almost childlike. Taehyung wasn't used to seeing her like this. His playful smirk faded, replaced by a deep, unspoken concern. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he took in the way she gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. There was something wrong.

He reached out gently, placing his hand on back of her waist. "Miso?" His voice was soft but serious, an edge of caution threading through the words. "Are you okay?"

For a brief moment, her eyes flickered to his, and she offered him a tight smile, but it was clear to him that it didn't reach her eyes. She was trembling. Something was off.

"I'm fine," Miso said quickly, her words a little too sharp, as though she were trying to convince herself more than him. She pulled her hand away and forced herself to sit a little straighter. But the tremor in her voice didn't escape him.

Yoongi, who had been watching the exchange, now locked his gaze with Taehyung. There was something unsettling about Miso's demeanor, something that made Yoongi's instincts flare. His eyes softened with concern, and he immediately stood up from his seat. Without hesitation, he walked over to Miso, his usual calm demeanor replaced by an almost protective energy.

"Miso," Yoongi said gently, his voice low and steady, like he was speaking to a frightened animal. He placed his hand on her shoulder, feeling the tense muscles beneath her skin. "Hey, look at me."

Miso turned her gaze toward him, her body slightly shaking as she tried to suppress the storm of emotions brewing inside her. The terror was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but she didn't want anyone to know. Not here, not now. She clenched her fists in her lap, trying to control her breath.

But Yoongi could see through her. He could always tell when something wasn't right with Miso. She was one of the few people who had a way of hiding her emotions so well, but not from him.

"Yoongi," she whispered, her voice a faint tremor in the air. She reached for his arm, her fingers gripping it tightly, as if seeking reassurance. "I... I'm okay. Just tired."

But Yoongi could see the fear in her eyes, the way her breath quickened with every passing second. Something was wrong. He knew Miso well enough to understand when she was slipping, but this was different.

Without another word, Yoongi gently took her by the wrists and guided her to stand up. Miso didn't resist, her gaze flicking toward Taehyung, who was now watching them with growing confusion.

"She's going to slip," Yoongi replied softly, his voice low but firm. He didn't look at Miso, but instead, his gaze remained fixed on Taehyung, who was beginning to understand that something was seriously wrong. "I don't know why, but it's major. Something has triggered her... something from her past."

Taehyung's jaw clenched, his anger flaring for a brief moment. His protective instincts flared, and he took a step toward Yoongi, his tone sharp and demanding. "How? Why is she slipping now, of all times? She's always been able to control it."

Yoongi didn't have an answer. He turned his gaze back to Miso, who was still shaking, her body stiffening as though holding onto her last shred of control. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes, the way her lips trembled, but she was trying so hard not to let anyone see.

"I don't know, Taehyung," Yoongi said quietly, his voice full of frustration and concern. "But whatever it is... it's something major. Something that's breaking through her control. And that's not something I can explain."

Taehyung's eyes flickered back to Miso, his gaze softening as he watched her tremble in Yoongi's grip. She was slipping, he could tell. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with a sense of impending change.

And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, Miso's body shuddered one final time before she went still. Her breath, which had been shallow and erratic, evened out as her eyes glazed over, her pupils widening as though she were slipping into another world entirely.

Taehyung's heart sank as he watched Miso lose herself. Her grip on Yoongi's arm slackened, and her face softened into a childlike innocence that was starkly different from the fierce, confident woman he had seen earlier. Her lips parted slightly, and she looked up at Yoongi with wide, innocent eyes.

Miso's voice, now soft and high-pitched, echoed through the air, so drastically different from her usual sharpness. The transition was almost eerie, the childlike innocence in her words creating a stark contrast to the confident woman Taehyung had been teasing just moments ago. Her eyes, once sharp and observant, now appeared distant, as though they were seeing something entirely different-something only she could access in her altered state.

"Daddy..." she murmured, her voice small and uncertain as she looked up at Taehyung. Her delicate hands reached for him, her fingers trembling slightly as she took a hesitant step toward him. "I want to sit with you," she said, her tone almost pleading.

Taehyung froze for a moment, taken aback by the sudden change in her behavior. He felt a surge of possessive pride, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Finally, he thought, she chooses me. He watched as Miso approached him with a sweetness he'd never seen before, her earlier defiance nowhere to be found. It was a strange feeling for him, one he hadn't expected. But he couldn't help the smug satisfaction that curled within him as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Of course, princess," Taehyung said, his voice thick with amusement and pride. His hands instinctively came to rest on her back, pulling her closer as if to shield her from everything else around them. He glanced briefly at Yoongi, who was still standing at the edge, observing the scene with a quiet intensity. Taehyung couldn't help but feel a small victory surge through him.

Yoongi's heart clenched as he heard the unmistakable shift in her voice. Her tone had changed completely, from the sharp, adult woman to a small, vulnerable child. The air around them seemed to shift, and for a moment, Yoongi could feel the weight of Miso's vulnerability pressing down on him.

But Yoongi, ever the observant one, wasn't fooled by the sweetness of the moment. He stepped forward silently, his eyes locked onto Miso's, which were wide and filled with a quiet, almost helpless vulnerability. He had seen this before-this delicate balance between Miso and her little space, and he knew exactly how to handle it, better than anyone else. His voice was soft, almost too gentle as he spoke, but with an underlying firmness that Miso would respond to.

"Miso," Yoongi said, his words slow and careful, "what do you need?"

Miso paused, her tiny hands still clutching Taehyung, her body tucked against his like a scared little child seeking comfort. Her eyes, for a brief moment, lost their innocence as they flickered over to Yoongi, and then back to Taehyung. It was like she was struggling to hold onto the childlike facade, her adult mind trying to push through the softness of her little space.

"I... I want sweet things," Miso said in a tiny voice, her lips pursing in a pout as she looked up at Taehyung again. "What's that one with the pretty pink icing? And the big fluffy cake with berries?" She seemed to forget herself for a moment, drifting in and out of the childlike state. "I want that. Please."

Taehyung chuckled softly, his heart swelling at the sight of her vulnerability. He was about to reach for a server to ask for some of the desserts she mentioned, but something in Miso's demeanor shifted again, as if a darker thought had surfaced beneath her fragile exterior.

Yoongi noticed it immediately. The way her face darkened slightly, the way her tiny hands gripped his arm harder. He recognized the change-the panic beginning to stir in her chest.

"Miso?" Yoongi asked quietly, his tone laced with concern. "What happened? You were doing so well. You were fine before..."

Miso's body stiffened in Taehyung's arms, and for a split second, she seemed to lose herself entirely. Her gaze turned to the side, as though seeing something-or someone-no one else could. She blinked a few times, the innocence flickering from her expression as tears welled up in her eyes.

"I saw him..." she whispered, her voice quivering as she spoke. "I saw him, Yoongi... he's here. He's here." Her words were laced with terror, the childlike mask slipping away entirely as the fear started to surface. "He's back."

Her breath became shallow as she struggled to keep it together. The emotion overwhelmed her, and her eyes began to shine with unshed tears. She tried to hold back, but it was impossible. The terrifying thought of that person-the figure who haunted her memories-was too much. She wanted to bury the fear, but it came rushing back all at once.

Taehyung's expression shifted, his earlier smugness replaced with concern as he looked down at her. Her grip on him tightened, as if trying to ground herself, but her body trembled uncontrollably.

"Who, Miso?" Taehyung asked, his voice full of confusion. He didn't understand, not yet, what had happened to her, or why she was so afraid. The moment between them seemed to stretch, thick with the weight of her words.

Miso couldn't hold it in any longer. The words spilled out like a dam breaking, the terror she'd kept buried beneath her surface now flooding out. "He... He hurt me, Taehyung," she whimpered, her voice barely audible as she clung to him. "I... I can't... I can't
handle this." She choked on her words, her breath hiccupping as the tears finally spilled over, running down her face.

Yoongi stepped forward then, his calm demeanor never wavering despite the chaos swirling around him. He gently pried Miso away from Taehyung, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking into her wide, tear-filled eyes. He could see the terror now. The same fear she'd had all those years ago. The same fear that had locked her away in her little space whenever she couldn't handle the world.

"Miso," Yoongi whispered softly, his voice almost like a lullaby. "You're safe. You're here, and you're safe. He can't hurt you now." He tried to soothe her, but Miso's sobs were uncontrollable now, her little form shaking with the rawness of her emotions.

"I... I don't want to remember," she gasped, looking up at Yoongi with panic in her eyes. "But I can't stop seeing him. He's here. He's back."

Taehyung stood frozen, trying to process the weight of her words. The understanding was slow to sink in, but when it did, the anger, the frustration, and the need to protect Miso filled him like a fire. That man-whoever he was-had caused her this much pain, and now, he was back, threatening to take her peace away again.

Taehyung's heart pounded in his chest as Miso continued to sob uncontrollably in his arms. His usual confidence faltered, and a sense of helplessness crept over him. He pulled her tighter, trying to shield her from everything, his arms wrapping around her protectively as he whispered soothing words. "Everything's fine, Miso. I'm here. You're safe now. Nothing's going to hurt you. Just breathe."
But Miso's body trembled violently in his embrace, and her tears flowed relentlessly, despite his comforting words. She wasn't responding to him the way she normally did. He couldn't understand why she was crying, what had triggered this sudden shift, and his frustration grew. His mind raced with thoughts of all the things that could have gone wrong, but nothing made sense. What happened? he wondered, his heart aching with a need to fix whatever was tormenting her.

He glanced at Yoongi, who was standing a few feet away, observing the situation with calm eyes.

Yoongi could see it in Taehyung's eyes-he wanted to fight, to lash out, but now was not the time. "Hey, little one,We'll take care of it," Yoongi whispered, looking over at Taehyung. "I promise." he said softly, using the nickname he knew would always break through to her in times like this.

Miso's sobs slowly quieted, her body finally giving in to exhaustion, but the terror still lingered in her eyes. The emotional storm had passed for now, but Yoongi knew that the battle was far from over. Miso had slipped further into her little space than anyone had anticipated-and for once, Taehyung wasn't sure how to help her.

The moment Miso heard Yoongi's voice, her sobs stilled, her tear-streaked face lifting as she looked at him with wide eyes. As if drawn to him by an invisible force, she left Taehyung's embrace and instinctively reached for Yoongi. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying her face against his chest. Her tiny frame seemed to melt into him, and her body stopped shaking, though the terror was still evident in her eyes.

But Yoongi knew. He always knew how to handle her in this state. It would take time. He looked at Taehyung, who was still standing in the background, his expression a mix of confusion, concern, and frustration. He was watching Miso as though she were slipping away from him, unable to help her as Yoongi seemed to do so effortlessly. Yoongi was the one Miso needed most.Yoongi rubbed her back in slow, comforting circles.

Miso's breathing gradually slowed, her sobs turning into soft hiccups as she clung to him. Despite the childlike innocence in her voice and mannerisms, Yoongi could sense the underlying fear that still gripped her.

Taehyung's chest tightened, and he stepped forward, his gaze lingering on Miso as she calmed in Yoongi's arms. He wanted to comfort her, to be the one to make everything right, but he felt so lost. Why can't I do this for her? he thought, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air before he dropped it to his side. The helplessness gnawed at him.

------

Hello again, my wonderful readers!

Here’s the continuation of the chapter I mentioned earlier. Since it became so long (around 20,000 words—oops!), I split it into three parts to make it easier to read. This section dives deeper into the emotions and dynamics of the characters. I hope you’re loving the way the story is unfolding!

Don’t forget to share your thoughts below; your feedback means the world to me. Stay tuned for the final part—it’s coming soon!

With gratitude,
StarlitWings