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

Chapter 41: Warmth of the Den ⚠️

She blinks up at him before gently nudging her head against his arm.

Like she knows.

Like she's saying, I see you.

I'm here.

Taehyung lets out a choked sob and buries his face in Yoongi's shoulder again.

Yoongi holds him tighter.

I squeeze Taehyung's hand.

And for the first time in fifty days, I feel like we're starting to get him back.

As the late night settles, deeper in it's quiet -

We don't ask him to move.

We just guide him.

To bed.

To us.

Taehyung hesitates at first, standing at the edge of the mattress, looking lost.

Like he doesn't know if he deserves to be there.

Yoongi sighs, then grabs him-wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him into his chest.

"Enough," Yoongi murmurs. "You're here. That's all that matters."

Taehyung exhales shakily and finally lets go"

He buries his face in Yoongi's chest, fingers curling into his shirt.

I press against his back, wrapping an arm around both of them.

Taehyung doesn't fight it.

He lets himself be held.

Lets himself be loved.

Yoongi lies on his side, arms wrapped securely around him, Taehyung's face pressed into his chest.

I curl up behind Taehyung, my hand resting over his.

His fingers twitch before gripping mine tightly.

I press a soft kiss to the back of his head.

"Sleep, Tae," I whisper.

A shaky breath.

A barely-there nod.

And then-

For the first time in more than a month-

Taehyung finally sleeps.

As Yoongi and I hold him between us, neither of us say it out loud-

But we both know.

Whoever did this to him-

Whoever hurt our soulmate-

We will find out.

And we will make them pay.

__________________

The room is quiet.

The kind of quiet that feels fragile-like a held breath, like a moment that could shatter at the slightest touch.

The first thing I feel is my head aching, threatening a hungover tom and then warmth.

Taehyung is curled up against me, his face buried in my chest, his body pressed close like he's afraid I might disappear if he lets go.

His breathing is slow, steady-but I can feel the weight of exhaustion in every rise and fall of his chest.

I tighten my arms around him instinctively.

Because he's here.

He came back to us.