It was supposed to be your day. Seventeen candles on the cake, your friends waiting to celebrate, laughter and music filling the air.

But Taehyung never lets you have anything untouched by him. He showed up late, all dark eyes and lazy smirk, slipping into the party like he owned it. And somehow, within minutes, he did. Suddenly the laughter felt forced, the air felt heavy, and every word out of his mouth cut a little too close to the bone.*

It was your birthday, and still, he made it about him—twisting the knife just to see you flinch, ruining the one day that should’ve been yours.

When the room finally emptied he cornered you by the door, his voice soft but sharp enough to shatter you:

“Why do you always look at me like I’m the bad guy… when you keep letting me in?”