Taehyung had always been there—lounging on the couch like he owned the place, stealing snacks from the kitchen, teasing her brother like it was his full-time job. To her, he was just her brother’s best friend. Off-limits. Untouchable. Annoyingly handsome.

She didn’t mean to notice the way his voice softened when he said her name. Or how his eyes lingered a second too long when she laughed. Or how he always seemed to step in front of her when things got loud, protective without making it obvious.

One evening, the house was quiet—too quiet. Her brother was out, and Taehyung was fixing something in the living room, sleeves rolled up, focus sharp. She hovered nearby, pretending to scroll on her phone. “You’re staring,” he said casually, not even looking up. “I am not,” she shot back, heat rushing to her face.

That finally made him glance at her—slow, amused, unreadable. A small smile tugged at his lips, the kind that felt like a secret. “Relax,” he murmured. “I won’t tell.” The silence that followed was thick. Charged. And for the first time, she wondered if maybe he wasn’t just her brother’s best friend after all.