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

Chapter 126: Soft Wars and Silent Codes🔥

And just like that, we both breathe a little easier.

Not long after Yoongi heads off to call Si Woo-his brow finally a little less stormy-I tiptoe past the living room like a ninja dodging a very sparkly landmine.

Joon's mid-Zoom, conducting some corporate orchestra, while Hobi's sprawled next to Wacha, gently trying to train her in downward dog.

Wacha gives him a single unimpressed blink, then flops over like she just delivered the final verdict.

Clearly, she won that round.

I creep down the hall to the music room and ease the door open.

Tae's sitting on the rug, cross-legged, meticulously brushing Tan's fur with a brush that looks absurdly luxe-definitely one of those "Oops, I clicked 'buy it'" splurges.

Tannie is sprawled out across his lap like a pampered celebrity soaking up the spotlight.

He's humming something soft and a little sad-one of his quiet lullabies that always tastes like nostalgia.

I slip in beside him, legs tucked beneath me. He doesn't glance my way, but leans his shoulder into mine-a silent "hey, you're here, and that's enough."

"Tannie's getting the royal treatment today, huh?" I whisper.

"He's tense," Tae murmurs, stroking Tannie's belly with absolute care.

"Not sure if he's picking it up from me... or Kookie."

His touch is so gentle, it feels like he's soothing himself too-each stroke a soft lullaby for both of them.

I tilt my head and rest it against his, letting his warmth seep into me. It's quiet and steady, like a heartbeat I can trust.

We sit like that, hearts syncing in the hush only soulmates know.

Finally, he brushes a fingertip down my arm and his voice practically breaks,

"Do you still talk to him like you talked to us? Back when it all began?"

Oof. That question lands heavier than I expect. Not because it hurts-because it's real.

I close my eyes, let my fingers find his on the floor.

"No," I whisper. "That version of me-she was still searching. She's found home."

I let the words settle. "With you."

He goes so still I can hear his breath hitch.

Brush discarded, he reaches for my hand, his other hand lifting to cradle my jaw.

He tilts my face until his eyes-those gorgeous storm-dark eyes-search mine.

"Say it again."

I lean in until our foreheads touch, breath mingling in the space between us.

"I'm home with you."