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

Chapter 127: Uninvited and Unwelcome

And whatever's coming... we'll face it as soulmates. United. Never breaking.

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Jimin's POV

The house hums with a kind of half-alive stillness this afternoon.

Not loud. Not quiet.
Just... holding its breath.

Sunlight filters through the high windows like golden syrup, catching in the soft clouds of fur Bam left on the hallway rug and the glitter still embedded in the baseboards from Hobi hyung's last "emotional reset project."

Somewhere, I can hear the soft buzz of a power drill and Gabriel's laugh echo off the walls.

I pad towards Noona's half done home office barefoot, tea warm in my hand, still wearing the same charcoal sweats I slept in on the guest futon last night.

Technically, I should've left for my apartment this morning-but no one asked me to, and I didn't want to.

I round the corner and pause.

Inside the office, Gabriel stands holding two paint swatches up to the light with dramatic flair, squinting like he's about to decide the fate of the Louvre.

"You want warm daylight tones or corporate therapist chic?" he asks with a grin, eyes bright.

Y/N noona laughs-a real, shoulder-shaking, head-thrown-back kind of laugh-and folds her arms.

"Both. I want clients to cry but also buy."

They both cackle.
And I... stand there.
Not jealous, exactly. Not really.

But something uneasy unspools beneath my ribs, slow and tight like string being pulled.

Like I missed the punchline.
Like I missed the whole joke.

Gabriel nudges her with his elbow, and she bumps him back with her hip like it's just muscle memory.

Like this scene has happened a dozen times before and will again.

Wacha slinks out from the room and brushes against my shin.

She looks up with those sea-glass green eyes, lets out a single unimpressed meow, and continues down the hall like she just passed judgment on all of us.

I whisper under my breath, "What are you not saying, Gabriel?"

But the thought dissolves.

I shake it off-because this isn't about being insecure. I trust her. I trust us. I trust what we're building, even if it doesn't come with instructions.

Still, I find myself watching as I sip my tea.

I only move when Bam bounds into the hallway and practically body-slams me into the wall, tail whipping like a storm warning.

"Hey, Bam-ah!"

I laugh as I ran catching up to him down the stairs and ruffle his ears.