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

Chapter 92: Every Version of Us

Like he's saying I'm still here in the only language he can right now.

I look down at our hands.

His thumb brushes over my knuckles, slow and soft.

I don't say anything. I don't need to.

Because in this moment, we're not talking about fate. Not about soulmates or apps or anyone else in the world.

It's just me.
And him.
On this couch.

In this apartment. In this fragile, sacred space we've carved out of chaos.

"Do you ever think about the beginning?"
I whisper.

He turns to me, eyebrows raised slightly.

"What part?"

"All of it. The first night I stayed over. The way you used to fold my hoodies even when I left them everywhere. How you never got mad, not even once."

His smile is small.
Almost sad.

"I got mad. I just loved you more."

That makes something in my chest break.
Not in a violent way. In the way that a dam breaks to let the water run free.

"Hyung..."

He pulls me in.
Not fast. Not greedy.
Just... sure.

Arms around my waist, chin tucked over my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin.

And I let myself fold into him.
There's no kiss.
No tears.

Just our bodies, pressed close, heartbeats echoing in sync.

I think about how scared we both are.

About losing each other.
About changing too much.
About the parts of ourselves we don't fully understand yet.

But I also think about how much we've loved. For so long. So honestly.

We didn't fall in love because of a match.

We fell in love because every version of us-awkward, uncertain, brave, broken-fit together like constellations waiting to be named.

"Hyung," I whisper again, and this time my voice is steadier.

He hums. Not a question.
Just letting me know he's listening.

"I want to try. I want us to try."

He pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes are soft.

"We are," he says. "We're trying right now."

And suddenly I realize-this moment isn't quiet because nothing is happening.
It's quiet because something is.

Something gentle.
Something real.
Something like healing.

_______________________________

Y/N's POV

Three days.

That's all the time that stood between us and the courtroom.

Three days until Taehyung would walk into the place where his past had tried to choke him-and speak.

Loud. Unapologetic. Unafraid.

Three days until every lie his aunt and uncle spun would begin to unravel under the weight of his truth.

And none of us were letting go of him.
Not now. Not ever.

We moved to a bigger conference room now and more people.