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

Chapter 109: Post-Nap Meows & Human Feelings

I don't move.
Not even to nod. I just listen.

"Like, I'm good for lighting things up, but..." he trails off, eyes fixed on the thread he's slowly unraveling.

"I'm not enough to hold anything down. Not serious enough. Not... strong enough to be someone's anchor."

He lets out a laugh, but it's paper-thin. Brittle. Like if I reached out to touch it, it would disintegrate.

My heart aches.
Because I know that feeling.

That invisible balance beam between being the joy and being the weight.

Between holding space for everyone... and wondering if anyone sees you.

I don't speak right away.
I just watch him.

His light, even now, is golden and soft.
But he's not glowing. Not trying to.

Just existing.
Raw. Bare.
And so real it hurts.

I move slow. Purposeful.
Letting the moment keep its stillness.

I turn slightly and open my palm.
No rush. Just offering.

Hobi stares at it for a heartbeat.
Two.

His expression shifts, flickers-and then, he slides his fingers into mine.
And I squeeze.

Steady.
Sure.
Like gravity.

"You are gravity, Hobi," I say quietly, the words coming from somewhere deep in my chest.

"You hold us all together without even trying."

He looks up at me then-his eyes wide, rimmed with tears he hasn't let fall.

"Your light isn't just for decoration," I go on, voice soft but certain.

"It's what keeps the dark away. It grounds us. Even when you don't feel it."

His breath hitches. A little, broken sound that shreds something inside me.

"And you don't have to be serious to be strong," I add, leaning in just slightly.

"You just have to be you. That's more than enough. Always."

The way he looks at me then-like I just handed him the sun back after someone stole it-is something I'll never forget.

He shifts forward.
Just a little.

I meet him halfway.
Our foreheads press together-gentle, reverent. Like a prayer.

Not a kiss. Not yet.
But something sacred.

We stay like that-just breathing each other in. Our skin warm where it touches, hands still clasped.

There's a tremble in his shoulders. A soft inhale. And then-

"You're not alone," I whisper, forehead still against his.

"You never have to carry that fear alone."

He exhales shakily.
A tear escapes down his cheek.
Then he laughs-quiet, watery, real.

"You're dangerously good at emotional murder, hyung."

I grin, brushing a thumb over the back of his hand.

"Only because you deserve every soft thing, sunshine boy."

*Ding!*

We both freeze at the sound of our phones buzzing at the same time.

Hobi fumbles for his, and I glance down at mine.

You have reached a Nurturing Connection Phase with Hoseok.

You have reached a Nurturing Connection Phase with Seokjin.

We blink at each other.
And then we laugh.
Really laugh.

The kind that chases the ache from your lungs.

We don't notice right away that we're no longer alone.

Somehow-quiet as cats-the others have found us.

Through the glass doors leading to the deck, I see them all out there.

Y/N with Wacha perched smugly on her lap, Yoongi with a steaming mug in hand, Joon leaning against the doorframe.

Tae is stretched on a lounge chair, Yeontan draped across his chest like a fashion statement.

Jimin has curled into Kook's side, half-asleep already.

All of them watching.
But not interrupting.

There's something in the way they look at us.

Like they feel it-this moment blooming like a night flower.

Soft. Real. Untouchable.

No one speaks.
No one intrudes.

They just smile.
Quiet, knowing.
And let us have this.

Eventually, Hobi pulls back, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. His cheeks are pink from the tears and the moment and the warmth of it all.

I bump our shoulders together lightly.

"Don't worry," I tease,

"We'll save the kissing for the next official soulmate meeting. Make it a big deal."

He snorts. "With confetti and matching outfits?"

"Obviously. Glitter cannons. Doves. Maybe a dramatic musical number-"

"I'm not kissing you if you sing during it."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Challenge accepted."

He laughs-bright and clear, and this time it's real sunshine.

The kind that glows from within.

Then he leans into my side again, head resting just under my chin.
His fingers stay curled in mine.

And we sit there.
Just like that.

Watching the stars bleed into the velvet sky through the window.

Letting the quiet settle again.

Not heavy.
Not empty.
Just full.