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

Chapter 110: A Thousand Unsaid Things

Jimin blinked. "What meeting?"

"The advisory review on her expansion proposal for the app," I said. "She and Namjoon... disagreed."

"That's it?" Tae asked, furrowing his brows.

"No," I said softly. "That's not it."

They all waited. Jin hyung leaned his hip against the railing. Kook crossed his arms. Hobi sank into a lounge chair, biting his thumb.

I looked down at my hands, then back at them.

"She brought an incredible proposal," I said.

"Innovative. Risky-but with potential. Namjoon... shot it down. Hard. In front of everyone."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt her," Jimin said quickly.

"I know that," I said. "She knows that. But he didn't see her dream. Not then. And it stung. Bad."

"They love each other," Kook whispered, tugging gently on Hobi's sleeve. "Why are they hurting each other?"

Hobi looked at him but it was Taehyung who answered.

Quiet. Solemn.

"Because they both care too much."

The wind stirred around us, thick with silence.

Back in the living room, Tae had curled against Jin hyung's side, half asleep. Jin hyung stroked his hair, but his gaze tracked to Y/N as she returned from the kitchen.

Jimin sat at the edge of the couch, hugging a throw pillow. Hobi sprawled on the floor beside Kook, the latter offering him a piece of chocolate silently.

They both took it like it was the only comfort they had tonight.

Namjoon never came back out.
And Y/N didn't go to his home office to find him.

Our home-designed for love-felt like it was sitting on a fault line. Ready to split open.

But beneath the tension, the aching thing no one could say was this.

They weren't angry because they didn't care.

They were angry because they did.

And love, when it collides with fear, doesn't always sound like a song.

Sometimes, it's silence.
Sometimes, it's broken glass waiting to be swept up.

And sometimes-like tonight-it's just a long exhale.

Waiting for someone to say I'm sorry first.

_______________________

Namjoon's POV

The laughter filters through the walls like something from a memory. Familiar, warm, comforting-except tonight, it's thinner. Hollowed at the edges.

I hear it from the top of the stairs, just as Jin hyung's laugh curls into a soft echo and Tae's exaggerated gasp bounces off the living room ceiling.

Someone throws a pillow. Probably Jimin. Hobi and Jungkook tease Yoongi hyung about something probably trying to cheer Noona up, but Yoongi hyung just grumbles, low and sarcastic, and I can almost see the corner of his mouth twitching with the tiniest smile.

And still.
Still it feels like the fault line hasn't stopped humming beneath our feet.

I step back from the railing, close the door to my home office without making a sound, and pad down the stairs barefoot.

The wood is cool under my feet, the air inside heavy with the scent of popcorn and lavender candles, and something else that doesn't belong.

Guilt, maybe.