Taehyung felt lost. He had been lost for what seemed like an eternity, a sensation that deepened with every passing day. Instead of the wounds healing, they seemed to widen, and he feared he had given up on himself entirely. But had he given up on her? No, not even close. When she left, some part of him—a fragile, stubborn hope—clung to the belief that her heart, no matter how far she went, would remain right where it truly belonged. With him.

He wandered the halls now, an empty shell of himself. The void she left behind was vast, hollow, and all-consuming. Yet, oddly, it felt natural. As though his world had always been incomplete, and her presence was merely a fleeting glimpse of what wholeness could feel like.

He told himself he needed to adjust to this new reality, to life without her. But how does one continue when the very thing that gave their life meaning is gone? Two hearts felt broken—or perhaps it was just one, slowly, numbly beating, refusing to acknowledge the pain. A heart that merely functioned to remind him he was still alive.

Did he think of her? He wanted to say no. He even tried to believe it. But he would only be lying to himself. Every thought of her clawed at the edges of his mind, a constant reminder of what he’d lost. Was their love a lie? He didn’t want to believe that, but doubt seeped in like poison. Maybe it was all too perfect, a beautifully crafted illusion. And he, a willing fool, believed it with all his heart.

He had been doomed from the start. He saw that now. The moment he began to fall for her, there was no escape. What made it unbearable was the helplessness of the fall—knowing she wouldn’t be there to catch him.

How could she?

She was trying so desperately to save herself. That was the tragedy, wasn’t it? In a world where love had become a game, where emotions were mere pawns, she had scarred him without even realizing it. She had loved him with the ferocity of a wildfire, but her flames burned everything in their path, including herself.

Taehyung had done the only thing he could think of to survive—he quit his job. The place where he met her, where every corner whispered her name, had become a prison. He couldn’t stay trapped in memories of her, memories that felt like heaven and hell combined.

Hell takes many forms, he thought. For some, it’s betrayal. For others, it’s misplaced trust. But for him, hell was love. Love with a girl who was too broken to love herself. Yet, when she loved him, it was like nothing he had ever known. She showed him a love so profound that it healed him, even as it slowly destroyed him.

He had spent his entire life searching for the kind of love that could either mend or obliterate. And she did both, effortlessly.

Taehyung’s personal hell was a girl who made him feel alive while pulling him apart. Who he loved beyond reason. Who loved him back, but couldn’t find the strength to love herself. They said relationships were hell, but he didn’t believe that. Hell wasn’t the love itself. It was the unattainable pursuit of perfection in an imperfect world—a pursuit that turned even the most beautiful love into an unending cycle of pain.

And yet, despite the heartbreak, she still made him feel alive. She had shattered him into a million pieces, but he accepted it. If a heart could break a thousand times in love, so could his.

Even now, she made him happy. She made him feel love in its rawest, most bittersweet form. And he knew, as broken as he was, this was the happiest and most in love he would ever be.