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

Chapter 103: Where Gravity Turns to Poetry

"Tae? Ah, you know Kim Taehyung? We're working on a collab soon, I watched him before I'm a fan, haven't met him though. And I didn't know people were watching that closely,"

he says, voice low and lazy like he knows the effect it's having. Like he wants me to drown in it.

"I do know him. And you were impossible not to watch."

He stops in front of me, close enough that the scent of him slips into my lungs-jasmine, sandalwood, and something warmer beneath it.

Like cinnamon and smoke.
Like temptation on slow burn.

His smile is lethal. "So you were watching."

"I couldn't look away."

He hums. "Good."

Then he leans in.
Closer.
His hand doesn't touch me.

It just hovers-fingertips a breath away from my chest, where my heartbeat is hammering like a verdict in progress.

His breath brushes my jaw, and I swear the sky goes static.

"Do I still have your attention?" he murmurs.

My knees almost give out.

"Fuck," I whisper. "You're dangerous."

He grins. "Only if you want me to be."

And then he steps behind me.

His body brushes mine like a whisper. Every nerve in my skin sparks to life.

He leans up towards me, reaching for me, voice at my ear, low and honey-slicked.

"You keep looking at me like you already know me."

I shiver. Hard.

The back of my neck tingles like I've been marked.

"I might," I say.

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you flirt like this with everyone at after-parties?"​

"Only the ones who hypnotize me."

He pulls back slightly.
We turn, face to face again.

His eyes search mine for a beat-then soften.

"You know," he says, more conversational now,

"Jia always used to tell me she had a protective older brother. Said he was some elite, terrifying lawyer with an undefeated courtroom record and a tongue sharp enough to slice through steel."

I blink. "She said that?"

He shrugs one shoulder, playfully. "She left out the part where you're stupidly hot. I feel like I've been misled."

A startled laugh escapes me. "What?"

"If I'd known you looked like this, I'd have visited her house more often back then."

Something stutters in my chest. "Wait-back then?"

Jimin nods.

"We met in dance class. Teenagers. I was sixteen, she was fifteen. We were the only ones who stayed late to practice. She was intense. I liked that. She taught me how to control my turns. I taught her how to pop lock in pointe shoes."

"Wow, fate sure works crazy." I whisper low enough for only me to hear.

"She said you were scary. That you interrogated her prom date and sent him home crying."

I grin at that. "He deserved it."

"I bet he did," Jimin says, his eyes dipping to my mouth.

There's something wicked in his smile.