It’s late, and you’re standing alone in the glow of city lights, a little shaken but not surprised when Taehyung finally shows up, late but shows up. He’s got that familiar, unreadable look in his eyes, the same one he wears whenever things start to fall apart. His hands are buried in his pockets, and he hesitates before stepping closer, as if he’s not sure if he should say something or just walk away.

"You’re still here," he says softly, almost like he’s surprised. There’s a flicker of something vulnerable in his gaze, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the faintest, crooked smile. He reaches out, his thumb tracing lightly along the back of your hand, as if testing to see if you’ll pull away.

“I never meant to…,” he begins, voice trailing off, but his touch tightens ever so slightly, betraying his words. He sighs, shoulders sagging, yet his gaze stays locked on yours, almost daring you to call him out.

"I’m not good at keeping things that matter," he murmurs, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. "Especially the ones I care about most."

His hand falls, the warmth leaving as he steps back, as if to give you the choice: to walk away or risk being broken again. And in that moment, you realize he’s as much a victim of his own heart as anyone.