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

Chapter 110: A Thousand Unsaid Things

"Hey." His voice was low. Gentle. "You okay?"

I didn't look up. "Yeah. Fine. Just thinking."

"Sure," he said, a soft note of disbelief under the word. "Thinking. And totally not spiraling."

I glanced at him. "You're getting bold."

He shrugged.

"I've been around you long enough to know your 'fine' voice. It's the same one you use when you're quietly planning to burn down a data center."

That tugged a tiny smile out of me.

"It would be a very small fire. Very controlled."

"Still fire," he said. "Still you."

Across from me, Ha Eun stacked her campaign reports slowly, eyes flicking between the two of us.

"I thought it was brilliant, you know," she said. "SoulReach. It's... human. Brave."

"Thanks," I murmured, swallowing around the ache in my chest. "That's the goal."

"Namjoon just..." She hesitated.

"He's not trying to crush it. I think he just saw how big it is. How real. And that freaked him out."

"Yeah." My voice came out thinner than I meant. "Guess I underestimated the size of the gap between vision and trust."

Jae opened his mouth-then stopped.

From the glass door, Dara appeared.

Her stilettos made no sound on the tile, but somehow I always felt her presence first. Like the air shifted to make room for her.

She didn't say anything right away, just came over and gently bumped her hip into mine, nudging me sideways in my seat.

"You're not alone, Y/N," she said softly.

"That idea? It shook the room. In the best way."

I exhaled slowly, the tension in my chest winding tighter. "Yeah, well. Doesn't matter if the person across from you thinks it's dangerous."

Dara crouched slightly so she was at eye level. "He doesn't think you are. Just the weight of what you're carrying."

"It felt personal."

"Of course it did. Because it was. And that's what makes you good at this."

From across the floor, I caught the sound of a quiet voice.

Namjoon.

He stood a few paces away near the wall, Yoongi beside him, heads bent in low conversation.

I couldn't hear them - but I could feel them.

Yoongi's hand reached for Namjoon's, a small squeeze. His thumb brushed the inside of Joon's wrist. Grounding.

Joon let out a breath I could see through the glass. His shoulders dropped a little, and I knew what it cost him to leave without fixing things.

Yoongi looked over then, eyes flicking to mine, quiet and steady.

He saw me. As he always did.
I gave a small nod.
He nodded back.

Then Joon turned and walked out-back to his office at Speak Yourself, back into the part of our shared world that suddenly felt a little less shared.

I didn't say goodbye.
Couldn't.

Later that afternoon, I was stuck half moping and half still processing the events that happened this morning in the break room.