I stormed out of the apartment I once called home - one I would now have to part with. My blood was boiling, churning within my veins with no place to escape. I should have known. I should have understood that allowing love into my life would cause nothing but destruction. How can such a beautiful feeling turn so bitter, so fast? How can it tear someone apart as quickly as it puts them back together?

Foolish, is what I am. Thinking that such an amazing man would ever look at me twice. A man that, before me, had been tied to two other men. Men whom he had homes with, lives, stories, anecdotes. I knew from the darkest parts of my heart that it was impossible. But I wanted to permit myself selfishness, perhaps even happiness if only temporary. I left all the doubts tied down in the dark, and soon even that part of me caved. Thirsty for any sort of love.

He could have told me. It was not necessary to come back to our home, and watch it all happen. I did not need to be shown, when words could have sufficed. The sight did not make me angry, it was the weakness and vulnerability that came with it all. How my eyes instantly watered at the scene unfolding before me, crystalline substances crawling down my cheeks in an attempt to reach my heart. Not that someone with a heart so bitter deserved to watch me cry, not that I expected anything but this, but the realization of the upcoming loneliness that would surely come was enough to bring me to my knees.

Words met me as my presence was acknowledged. "You thought he would ever truly be satisfied with someone as mediocre as you? So pathetic. You can leave now." One of them had cackled, still hanging off of him, nudging at the other perpetrator just to watch me cry. My boyfriend - ex, looked down in shame.

"That is quite hilarious of you to stay, considering I was his first choice after he dumped you both. Do you truly think what he did was not premeditated? That he wasn't at the very least into me as he fucked you both? Maybe you should be ashamed. The only way you can get someone to even look at you is when you drop your clothes." With one last stare at the debauched individuals in my once home, I walked away. The door slam was the only sound in the empty hallway.

The moment the cold greeted me, was when the reality of it all slapped me in the face. The anger faded, the mask dropped, and it all came crashing down. I was wearing no more than a thin jacket, prepared to make myself warm in my home after a long day of work. With the person I thought loved me. What a joke. My initial reaction was to visit my comfort place, a small bakery tucked into a corner street. It had been there since I took my first breath, and hopefully will be there when I take my last. It was the place where I met Jeon Jungkook for the first time. Back when I was just two and he was one, at a playdate with our parents. Parents who had been friends since similar ages, had grown together and had the fortune of bringing their offspring into the world during a similar time frame.

As though we were in a carefully crafted book meant for only the best romance, we grew to fall in love. To experience all our firsts together, without the feeling of unfulfillment other couples can experience. Nothing made us happier than being together. Until the moment my other half went to study abroad, with the promise one day he would come back to love me twice as much. I did not take the promise, it felt unfair at that moment. It felt like the world was praying against us, and I refused to let distance be what caved us in. So I bid him farewell, and kissed him at the airport one last time. And there went twenty years of knowing someone more than you know yourself. Of being able to find them in pitch dark with just a brush of hands.

So, with tears still streaming down, frozen slightly by the blatant cold, I made my way to Stigma. I was greeted by the delicious smell of baking bread, jelly-filled pastries, and chocolate muffins. There were lights tracing the ceiling that reflected the glass on every table, as captivating as I remembered. And with the feeling of familiarity embracing me, all the tension in my body left at once. Heading to the table I never abandoned, regardless of how much it hurt at the beginning - I calmed more and more. Confident in it being empty, since it was near the back. It kept us safe from the world, we used to say. Kept wandering eyes away, made sure our love was just meant for the other. The passion that ran through our irises, and manifested in the blush of our cheeks, or the wandering hands on the table when we just needed to be that much closer. Just remembering it all made the newly-inflicted wound sting just a bit more. There was nothing I could now but remember how something so beautiful was taken from me, and no replacements would suffice.

I was so close to that small two-sweater booth. To the table in which we first blurted out confessions, and discussed that perhaps separating was for the best. It seemed right that our entire story would always be encapsulated in one place. Sometimes I wonder where we would be if we had fought harder, if we were still in contact at least. I wonder where he is, how he likes the new world, how much they love him. How it would have all gone down, had I gone with him. There had been nothing tying me down but the fear of leaving it all behind. Of abandoning the place I grew up in. 

Without looking, consumed in my own thoughts, I sat down. I knew there was nobody there, so the liberty was all mine. I plopped down on my side of the booth, and let the table soak up the emotions bottled within. My failed relationship was much more of an afterthought, nothing to miss if you were aware of the ending through the duration of it all. Now I just missed the one person who I needed. I never sat on his side, remembering how often he argued that it was his favorite because he only had to look at me. With his perfect sweet talking and smooth gestures, commenting offhandedly how prettier the lighting made me look. And that was just the start of what felt like a blizzard starting in my head, nothing but thoughts clustering together so deeply I could not manifest words.

In my own despair, I flinched once there were arms bumping next to mine. The pressure felt familiar, but vague. As if a passing thought. Namjoon, probably - an older man, the owner of the bakery. It had not been the first time I had come in here in tears, wondering why life acted the way it did. He had been there. And perhaps it all felt so strange due to the thoughts clouding me.

And then the humming began. The vibrations soaking into the table, so familiar once more. I felt it down to my bones, the low register on it. Comforting, warm, safe. A fading memory, storing itself away. Or perhaps not quite fading, just not present. It was not enough for me to recognize what song it was, or who was producing the sound. Until it did. Until the pieces came back together, and I was reminded of him. Everything came back at an alarming pace. Suddenly, his smell was all I could process. The weight of his arms next to mine, stronger now but nevertheless identical. The shape of the face peeking behind folded arms, mirroring my position on the table. His jawline curving, in such a mature manner, and I traced the available skin until I met his messy, but enticing hair. Yet what seemed to stick out the most in this not-stranger was the sniffling coming from him. And as much as I wanted to raise my arm, make him lift his face, I couldn't. The sadness was gone, and now utter shock came twirling towards me like an unstoppable tornado. My heart started racing, contracting to make sure my blood kept flowing, and all the pieces fell into place within the void that was my soul. Just that small hint of contact was enough for my frail heart to somehow come back together. No doubt, the love was still there. I never stopped being in love, apparently. Not to my surprise, how could I have ever pretended to forget him? The thought of moving on had always felt like blanketing myself with barbed wire and expecting it to provide me warmth. He had taken my heart, and left me a cheap copy that was ready to shatter in the hands of anyone but him. It makes sense, he is here now, and so is my heart. Suddenly, the air feels lighter.

Silence and tension emanated from the table, neither of us knowing the other had noticed them. It was not uncomfortable, or awkward, none of our silences ever had been. Natural, even. Am I giving him his heart back, too? Was I holding it this entire time?

    •    3rd person point of view.

Namjoon watched it all from afar. He saw Taehyung walk in, clearly fighting a typhoon in his heart. He had known Jungkook was back, him and Jin knew of the youngest's plans to return as soon as his degree was finished. It was meant to be a happy return, a happy surprise, a happy reunion. Yet, when he came back, he was under the impression Taehyung had moved on. Foolish children. Him and Jin had once been identical, if not worse. Probably worse.

He had sat at the table, staring at the empty spot in front of him. Consumed in thoughts and doubts, wondering if his lover had come back here in hopes of reminiscing. Wondered how he would unlearn everything he had ever known, how anyone or anything would compare. He was frightened when a familiar, yet more mature body, tumbled into the seat in front of him. He stared for a moment, for many moments even. Until noticing that it was in fact Taehyung, and he was in fact crying. He had grown so much, his habit of loudly crying when something was wrong had entirely faded. He had missed his growth, his changes. His broad shoulders now caved into himself whenever a sniffle racked him, as if wanting to hide within his own body, as if coming closer to himself for comfort. How often his breathing came out labored, as if it hurt to be so silent when all he needed was an outlet.

Grasping onto a small memory of how they coped in the instances when the other was hurting, he remembered their constant embraces. Neverending hugs until it stopped hurting so deeply. Perhaps a genetic method, as obviously physical contact from a reliable source eased the brain - but it worked, nothing was better when the world was falling apart. To feel so consumed by the one you love, so much so that the entire world fades away, taking your misfortunes away. Knowing someone would be there to mend your broken parts. Gentle, reassuring words, and ignoring the world. He wanted to do so, but perhaps it was not ideal since his loved one now loved another. So, he did his best. Huddled into the seat  next to him, and inched as close as appropriate.

Soon, the tears had stopped. It seemed Taehyung had begun processing it all, his body language had calmed significantly. And perhaps the hopeful part of him was winning, but he felt special knowing he could still bring the older some peace. Maybe he wanted to see him too, maybe their love was still there, maybe it could all still be salvaged and put back together. No matter what happened, their love would always bloom. It was destined, their love would triumph amongst all others - two puzzle pieces made just for the other.

"It better be you - if I am hallucinating you again, I don't know what I'll do. Jungkookie?" The eldest was the first to break the silence, his voice dropping even more from the waterworks. The shivers that it sent up Jungkook's spine were inevitable. He missed how Taehyung would call his name, nicknames whispered to the other at the crack of dawn.

"Here. I am right here." He whispered back. Oh, so natural it pained them. Like four years had not passed since they heard each other's voices and stood within miles of each other, thinking it was for the best. It had all left them both broken. They felt their bodies transcend, perhaps to a land only known to them, enveloped with love and safety.

"There is so much for us to discuss. But God, let it be known that you are the only thing I have ever needed. I have never once lost sight of that, even after I tried so hard to replace it. To forget. I was too afraid to hold on, but it's all I have done in years." Taehyung muttered. Needing to make it all clear, to put it out into the universe.

"I was similar, I tried everything I could to respect our initial agreement and just move on - I couldn't. Leaving you was my biggest, worst mistake. Please allow me to fix it." Jungkook answered, sincerity mirrored in his eyes. He had no idea how he had managed to let his hands wander, perhaps the itch to touch him and settle the idea that this was all a dream. His hands left his waist, trailing up his torso lovingly and settling near his neck, one hand on his nape, the other under his Adam's apple. Taehyung reciprocated with his hands on Jungkook's thighs and midriff.

"This time, you can't leave me." And without letting him respond, Taehyung inched forward and allowed their lips to seal together. They sealed a new promise, newfound realizations of just how much they needed one another.

Jin was shedding a couple of tears behind a recipe book. There was not a single doubt in the universe that the two men belonged together, since the moment they were born, the planets had aligned. There was nothing more certain than their love. It was undeniable love, a blind man could trace the hearts in their eyes.

A silver band, that later turned into rows of diamonds, that continued to be inherited through generations as a promise that their love would forever live on.

- rewritten.