Lily was too drunk to walk. Scratch that—she was too drunk to function.
Tae had just paid the tab and turned around, only to find her halfway into a yelling match with a cardboard idol standee by the door.
"You bastard!" she shouted at it, jabbing a finger at its glossy face. "You think you're so hot, huh? Holding that soju bottle like you're better than me?! You think you're mysterious?! You think you're deep?! YOU'RE FLAT!"
It was a limited edition promo of some actor who vaguely resembled Sean. Poor guy. Didn't deserve the verbal decapitation Lily was about to deliver.
Taehyung froze. "Oh no."
"You broke up with me like I was easy to leave?! I gave you time, I gave you effort, I gave you my goddamn Spotify password! That's intimacy, you bastard!"
Tae took a slow step forward, phone in hand in case he needed to record this moment for blackmail.Then she said it.
"AND YOU KNOW WHAT? YOUR DICK IS SO SMALL, IT COULD COMPETE WITH THE SMALLEST FUCKING BANANA BREED!"
Taehyung howled.Actually bent over, nearly dropped his keys laughing.People turned. The bartender ducked behind the counter.
"Alright," he wheezed. "We're done here."
He tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of loud, emotional potatoes and carried her out, legs kicking lightly in protest.
"You're manhandling a national treasure!" she shrieked into his back.
"You're not even a state-approved trinket right now," he shot back.
He dumped her gently—well, not that gently—into the back seat of his car.She groaned and kicked off her heels, one landing on the dashboard.
"Next time, Lil," he muttered as he started the engine, "don't ever get this drunk unless I'm around."
That's when the sobbing began.
"What was wrong with me?" she hiccupped between gasps. "I just loved, Tae. I poured time. I poured effort. Even when my boxing career ended—when everything ended—I still gave him all of me. Now I feel like I'm just… floating. Lost."
Tae sighed, turning the wheel with one hand, eyes soft."You're more than you think, Lil. The asshole just didn't deserve you."
"And who does, huh?" she snapped suddenly. "My best friend, THE Kim Taehyung?"She barked out a humorless laugh. "HA! I'm just dirt under his designer nails. He's an idol. A legend. What the fuck am I doing being friends with him?"
She spoke his name as if it wasn't him who just carried her out of the bar.
"You're drunk," was all he could say.
"I am…" she slurred. "But damn me if I don't mean it."She curled against the seat, eyes glossy, voice suddenly quiet. "Tae... He was the only guy who stayed. The only one who never made me feel small—until I started thinking maybe I'm not even worthy of him. And that… hurts."
Tae tightened his grip on the steering wheel, jaw clenched.
"Back in college, they said I was too much. Too aggressive. Too loud. Too… me. The complete opposite to him. Soft. Elegant. Handsome."
"The air he has when he sits in a room being suddenly lit. His laugh the sound of wind chimes on spring afternoon. His eyes deep as the poems regret. His voice, oh don't get me started on that."
A long silence. The hum of the road.
"And Sean understood. For a while. But he couldn't handle the fact that he exist in my life."She wiped her cheek. "Fuck that guy. Couldn't even spell insecurity but had it in full supply."
Taehyung didn't say a word.
He pulled the car over, suddenly needing to look at her. Just look.Lily sat curled in the passenger seat now, eyes half-lidded, makeup smudged, and somehow still managing to smile like a kid asking for ice cream.
She squinted at him.
"…Can you take me to his apartment? Ahjusshi?"
Tae blinked. Then reached over and flicked her forehead.
"OW!" she squealed, rubbing the spot. "Why would you—!"
She burst into tears again.
He sighed, shifting back into drive.
"Because you're not going to his place. You're going home."
"I hate you!" she wailed.
"Sure you do."
Lily was a gold medalist boxer back in college. A fracture in her right hand had ended her career before it could even take off.Back then, she didn't cry. Not once.He had been there for every step—carried her out of the ring, held her hand at the hospital, listened to her scream into pillows. But no tears.
Yet here she was now, unraveling in the passenger seat over a boy who couldn't even survive being second to her best friend.
And Taehyung?He didn't say much. Didn't need to.He just kept driving.
Because sometimes the softest way to love someone...is to simply not leave.
***
Lily woke up disoriented, throat dry, mascara smudged like war paint. Her head throbbed like a drum circle and her mouth tasted like betrayal and expired beer.
She sat up slowly, only to realize—"Oh god."
She was in his shirt. Kim Taehyung's soft, oversized, probably designer shirt. And judging by the lingering scent—fresh laundry and him—it had recently been his.
Abort mission. Burn the shirt. Flee the country.
She groaned and flopped back down. Bits of last night trickled back.
Cardboard standee. Banana reference. Sobbing in his car. Ahjusshi??
She covered her face with both hands. "Kill me."
The smell of fried eggs and rice lured her out like a cartoon character floating on scent waves. In the kitchen, Tae was plating food, hair slightly tousled, glasses on, and an expression way too casual for someone who witnessed her entire emotional unraveling.
She quietly took the seat across from him.
They ate in silence. Their knees touched under the table.
Neither moved.
That static buzzed between them—like a forgotten charge that hummed just beneath the surface. He didn't mention the night before. Neither did she.
But in Taehyung's mind, the words came back like a melody he couldn't shake.
"Back in college, they said I was too much. Too aggressive. Too loud. Too… me. The complete opposite to him. Soft. Elegant. Handsome."
"The air he has when he sits in a room being suddenly lit. His laugh the sound of wind chimes on a spring afternoon. His eyes, deep as the poem's regret. His voice—oh, don't get me started on that."
She had said it like a confession. A spell. A lyric.And now it played on repeat in his head, looping with every quiet clink of her spoon against the bowl.
He glanced up once.Caught her stealing a look at him.She looked away just as fast, cheeks burning under the hangover haze.
Tae let out a small breath of a laugh."Wind chimes on a spring afternoon?" he teased gently.
Lily froze. Fork mid-air."Did I... I said that didn't I? ...Kill me."
"No. I'm framing it."
"I was drunk."
"Drunk thoughts, sober poetry."
"I'm never drinking with you again."
He smiled, that soft, barely-there smile—the one only she ever seemed to catch.
Their knees were still touching
Neither of them moved.
The silence stretched—comfortable but charged, like a string pulled taut between them.
Then, quietly, Taehyung spoke.
"Lily."
Her name sounded different in that moment. Not playful. Not teasing. Just... real. Solid.
She turned to him.
Eyes met eyes. The kind of look that didn't need translation.
Then he said, "Move on. You're—"
He hesitated, just a second, like the next part held more weight than he meant to admit.
"You're someone's dream girl, you know."
Lily's heart gave a subtle kick.
Not at the words—though they were sweet—but at the way he looked at her when he said them.
Like he already knew the dream.
Like maybe he was still trying to forget he ever had it.
She held his gaze for a moment longer than she meant to.
"You think so?" she asked, voice quieter than before.
"I know so."
She laughed softly, trying to brush it off. "You're just saying that because I didn't throw up in your car."
Tae smiled, but his eyes didn't move. "No. I'm saying it because it's true."
And there it was again—that shift.
That quiet tilt in their gravity.
The thing neither of them named but both of them felt.
The toast grew cold on her plate. She barely noticed.
Taehyung stood to refill his coffee, and as he passed behind her chair, his hand brushed lightly against her shoulder.
It wasn't an accident.
It wasn't dramatic.
Just a moment.
But for Lily, it lingered longer than it should have.