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

Chapter 112 : The Cracks that Rebuilt Us 🔥

Yoongi's POV

The morning sun pours through the tall windows like honey, thick and golden, but it doesn't warm anything. Not today.

The house is quiet.
But not peaceful.

It's the quiet that comes after a storm - where the air is too still, the floorboards too loud, every breath too shallow.

We move around each other like planets caught in the wrong orbits. Near. Distant. Failing at pretending gravity isn't cracked.

I sit on the edge of the living room couch, a half-empty mug of coffee cooling beside me. I haven't sipped it once.

Across the room, Hobi moves through the kitchen with none of his usual grace.

No humming. No soft shoulder wiggles. No sunshine in the way he stirs.

He makes coffee like it's muscle memory. Doesn't even taste it. I watch him pour it into seven mugs and blink when he hands me mine.

I take a sip.

He forgot the sugar.
Hobi never forgets the sugar.

"Thanks," I murmur.

He nods, eyes unfocused. "Yeah."

Jungkook is curled up on the floor in front of the TV. His console controller rests in his lap. The screen blinks - a menu waiting for him to press start - but he doesn't move.

His thumb is still. That alone tells me something's wrong.

Tae sits on the windowsill, hugging Yeontan to his chest. He's slowly braiding a lock of his own hair, over and over. Not looking at anything.

His eyes are glassy and unfocused, and when Tannie lets out a soft whine, Tae just whispers, "I know, baby. Me too."

Jin hyung is at the dining table, folding laundry. Precisely. Neatly. Methodically. Like every crease might keep something from shattering.

His lips are a thin line. His eyes don't lift.

Jimin is the only one still upstairs. I heard him moving earlier - light steps, then the soft thump of him sitting on the stairs - but he hasn't come down.

I look around at all of them.
My soulmates.
My home.

And I feel the splinters in the walls.
Like we're all pretending not to bleed.

I set my mug down. Get up.

In the kitchen, Jin hyung is still folding.

He doesn't look up when I step in beside him. He just says, "It's too quiet."

"Yeah," I reply. "Even Wacha's not judging us today."

She's asleep in her basket in the corner, tail twitching occasionally, but she hasn't hissed at anyone all morning.