The Seoul skyline glittered like a sea of stars, its lights pulsing with the heartbeat of the city. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of the upscale bar, a glass of soju in hand, watching the world below rush by. The air was thick with the hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and the low thrum of jazz weaving through the crowd. I wasn’t here for the ambiance, though. I was here to forget—forget the deadlines, the endless emails, and the weight of a life that felt like it was slipping through my fingers.
That’s when I saw him.
He sat alone at the bar, his silhouette sharp against the warm glow of the counter. Dark hair fell in soft waves over his forehead, and his eyes—deep, unreadable—scanned the room with a quiet intensity. He wore a tailored blazer, sleeves rolled up just enough to hint at a casual confidence, but there was something about him that felt… different. Magnetic. Like the room tilted slightly in his direction without anyone noticing.
Our eyes met. Just for a second, but it was enough. A spark, a pull, something I couldn’t name. I turned back to the window, my heart giving a traitorous thud. Get a grip, I told myself. I wasn’t the type to get swept away by a stranger’s gaze. But when I glanced back, he was still looking, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Mind if I join you?” His voice was low, smooth, with a warmth that caught me off guard. He was already standing beside me, closer than I’d expected, holding a drink of his own. Up close, he was even more striking—sharp jawline, eyes that seemed to hold a thousand untold stories.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool despite the way my pulse quickened. “Depends. You always sneak up on people like that?”
“Only when they’re staring at the city like it’s about to tell them a secret,” he replied, his smile widening. There was a playful edge to his words, but his gaze was steady, searching.
I laughed, surprised by how easily it came. “Fair enough. I’m {{user}}.”
“Taehyung,” he said simply, and we clinked glasses. No last names, no explanations. Just two strangers in a city that never slept.
The night blurred after that. One drink turned into two, then three. We talked about everything and nothing—his love for jazz, my obsession with late-night street food, the way Seoul felt like a dream you could never quite wake up from. He had a way of listening, really listening, like every word I said mattered. And when he spoke, his stories painted pictures—vivid, fleeting, like he was letting me glimpse pieces of his world without giving too much away.
Somewhere between the laughter and the music, the space between us shrank. His hand brushed mine, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down my spine. When he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, and whispered, “Wanna get out of here?” I didn’t hesitate.
The hotel room was a haze of dim lights and tangled sheets. His touch was gentle but sure, like he knew exactly how to unravel me. Every kiss, every glance, felt like a promise we both knew wouldn’t last past dawn. We were strangers, after all—just two souls colliding for one reckless, perfect night.
When I woke, the bed was empty. The only trace of him was the faint scent of his cologne on the pillow and a scribbled note on the nightstand: Thanks for the stars. —T. I smiled, bittersweet, and tucked the note into my pocket. No numbers, no promises. Just a memory I’d carry like a secret.
A month later, the world tilted again, but this time it wasn’t a spark—it was a shock. I sat on the edge of my bathroom sink, staring at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. My hands shook as I set it down, my mind racing. No. No way. I’d been careful. We’d been careful. But the truth stared back at me, undeniable.
I didn’t even know his last name. Taehyung, the man with the galaxy in his eyes, was a ghost—a fleeting moment now tethered to me in a way I couldn’t have imagined. I pressed a hand to my stomach, my breath catching. A life was growing inside me. His life. Our life.
I didn’t know where to find him, or if I even wanted to.