Stigma Love's Algorithm [ A BTS x Reader Poly ]

Chapter 39: Drowning in Absence ⚠️

⚠️ Content Warning: This chapter contains themes of emotional distress, depression, and mental struggles, which may be triggering for some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

There's a certain kind of silence that doesn't feel peaceful.

It lingers. Thickens.

Sinks into the walls, into the spaces between words, into the way Yoongi's fingers tighten around his phone every time a notification pops up-only to relax when he realizes it's not from Taehyung.

It follows us from room to room, stretching across the bed at night, curling into the sheets with us.

Even when we're wrapped in each other's arms, warm and safe, there's something missing.

He's missing.

And no matter how much we try to convince ourselves that he's fine-that this is just one of those things that will pass-the weight of uncertainty presses down on us like an anchor.

The days are dragging. And Taehyung is slipping further away.

And neither of us know what to do.

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Day 9

Yoongi isn't sleeping well.

I know this because I wake up to find him still staring at his phone, the dim glow of the screen illuminating the exhaustion in his face.

"Yoongs," I whisper, voice thick with sleep.

His eyes flick to me, dark and heavy. "Didn't mean to wake you."

I shift closer, pressing my palm against his chest. His heartbeat is steady, but there's tension beneath my touch.

"You didn't," I murmur. "You still haven't heard from him, have you?"

A sharp exhale. "No."

My fingers trace slow, soothing circles over his skin. "Maybe he's just-"

"I don't want to hear excuses, Y/N." His voice isn't harsh, but it's frayed at the edges. "I just want him to fucking talk to us."

He doesn't put his phone down.

Instead, he swipes through his messages-our group chat, his private messages with Taehyung, even their last conversation from before he left.

And then, quietly, he murmurs, "What if we're too late?"

I blink. "Too late for what?"

His jaw tightens. He shakes his head. "Nothing."

But it's not nothing.

I can feel the weight of the words he doesn't say pressing against his ribs, stealing his breath.

I sit up, watching the way he rubs at his eyes, pressing his fingers hard against his temples like he's trying to push the worry away.

Yoongi doesn't usually let emotions consume him like this. He's always been careful about what he lets show, choosing his words with precision, keeping his walls up even when he's hurting.

But this is different.

This is Taehyung.

And when it comes to Taehyung, his control is slipping.

I reach out, threading my fingers through his. "Yoongs... he knows we're here."

He lets out a bitter laugh. "Does he? Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like it."