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

Chapter 92: Every Version of Us

My fingers gripped the steering wheel too tightly, knuckles pale and stiff, as if letting go would mean unraveling completely.

The engine purred beneath me, steady and waiting-unlike me.

I wasn't here as J-Hope, the influencer with a megawatt smile and a curated life.

I wasn't here as Jungkook's partner, either.

I was here as Jung Hoseok.
Son. Brother. Seeker.

Someone desperate to understand the cracks forming between the lines of a love I thought I'd always understood.

I finally killed the engine.

The lobby smelled like tea and eucalyptus, a strange contrast to the chill still sitting heavy in my chest.

I didn't need the front desk to tell me where to go. I'd been here before-once, years ago, when Noona first opened her private practice.

Back then, I had brought flowers and compliments and the kind of energy that said I believe in you.

Today, I brought questions and a heart full of fear.

Her office hadn't changed much.

The shelves were still lined with psychology journals and gentle succulents.

The window still overlooked the park, pale sunlight slanting through the blinds and casting soft shadows.

Her teacup steamed gently in her hand, as calm and steady as she always was.

"Hoseok," she said, with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

I dropped into the chair across from her like I might fall through it. "Hey Noona."

She waited.

Always the professional, even with me. Giving space for the words to come.
But my throat burned.

"How do you do it?" I asked finally, voice hoarse.

"Sit with people who are bleeding inside and not take it home?"

Her eyes flicked to mine, soft and tired.

"Some days, I don't. Some days, it follows me everywhere."

That struck something deep in me.

I didn't push, not yet. I just looked around the room again-her world, not mine.

My world had filters and ring lights.
This one had tissues and silence.

"I can't tell you about my patient, Hoseok," she said before I could even ask.

Her voice was gentle, kind. Professional.

"You know that. It's confidential."

I nodded.
I'd known that.
Expected it.