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

Chapter 108: Confessions, Cranes & Cosmic Chaos

He hears me this time.
Looks up. Smiles.

"You're back," he says.

"Always," I say, and I mean it more than I intend to.

I drop down beside him again, this time slower. Like I know this moment is going to matter.

And it does.
God, it does.

We're quiet for a while.
Just sitting.

The half-finished sketch still open beside us-Tannie's astronaut helmet now shaded in, complete with a tiny "Commander Tan" badge.

I glance at Tae hyung.
His hair's a mess.

His lashes are ridiculous.
His lips slightly parted in thought.

Hyung's shoulder presses softly against mine.

Our legs are folded, knees brushing lightly beneath the blanket we'd dragged in here like a fort of whispered things and unspoken truths.

The sketchbook rests beside us now, forgotten.

Tannie's astronaut dreams quietly orbiting in pencil stardust.

Outside the glass, the stars still glitter.

And inside me-something begins to rise.
Slow. Careful. Heavy.

I don't know why it comes out right then.

Maybe because it's late.
Maybe because he's here.

Or maybe because if I don't say it now, I'm scared I'll never get the courage to.

"Sometimes..." I begin, voice small and fragile, "I feel like I'm too much. Too loud. Too competitive. Too... everything."

The words hang there.
Vulnerable.

I expect a laugh.
A shrug.
A well-meaning tease.

Something light to brush it off.

But he doesn't.

He turns his face slightly, and I feel his eyes on me. Soft. Grounding. Real.

"Same," Tae says. Quiet. Steady.

"Like... if people really knew all the mess inside me... they'd run."

My throat tightens.

I tilt my head back, letting it fall gently against the wall behind us, and exhale like it hurts to carry everything I've never said.

The weight of expectations.
The pressure.

The way I sometimes feel like I have to keep earning the right to be loved.

And Tae hyung... he mirrors me. Silently.

His head tilts back too, his curls brushing my cheek.

Our shoulders stay pressed.
Our arms lined up like we've always been made to fit side by side.

"...But they didn't run, Kookie," he murmurs.

His voice is softer now. Almost reverent.
Like he's saying a spell, not just words.

"They stayed. They're staying. We're not too much here."

The words... they don't just touch me.
They crack something open.

Not broken.
Just open.
Like light peeking through a door I didn't realize I'd kept locked for too long.

I turn to him. Slowly.
Like I'm afraid that if I move too fast, this moment might disappear.