Fatescript

"Smells Like Trouble"

Jisoo stared at him, one brow arching in disbelief. “Since when do you behave like a grown-up?”

Taehyung’s mouth fell open, clearly offended in the most dramatic way possible. “Excuse me?” he gasped, letting go of her elbows as if she’d personally insulted his legacy. “What do you mean?”

Jisoo took a step back, arms crossing again, fighting back a smile. “You. Acting mature. Calm. Like some wise old sage who’s above workplace gossip? That’s not the Taehyung I know. The Taehyung I know would’ve marched back into that meeting room and said something like, ‘Yes, we smell alike. It’s called class. Try it sometime.’”

Taehyung pointed at her, his expression lighting up. “Now that actually sounds like me.”

She snorted. “Exactly. That’s why I’m confused.”

He stepped closer again, grinning boyishly. “Don’t worry, the mature phase won’t last long. I just wanted to see how flustered you’d get.”

Jisoo narrowed her eyes again. “You wore it on purpose, didn’t you?”

Taehyung didn’t answer. Just winked.

Jisoo gave him a dry look. “You're just trying to smell like me forever, aren’t you?”

He grinned, lowering his voice just enough to make her heart skip again. “Only because you smell like home.”

She stared at him, trying—failing—to keep her expression neutral. “Taehyung…”

“And besides,” he added, tone suddenly smug, “you are my fiancée. Isn’t it kind of expected we match in… certain ways?”

That made her freeze.

Her brows lifted slowly, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

Taehyung simply shrugged, all confidence and mischief. “What? We will get married eventually. It’s not like we don’t already know that. So calling you my fiancée just… saves time.”

Jisoo scoffed, shaking her head with a half-laugh, half-exasperated sigh. “Wow. So now I’m your pre-declared fiancée?”

He took a step closer again, voice teasing but with a quiet certainty behind it. “You say it like it’s not true.”

Jisoo rolled her eyes and glanced down at her left hand, holding it up between them pointedly. “Well, in that case… I don’t see any ring here.”

Taehyung’s gaze dropped to her hand, eyes zeroing in on the empty ring finger. He stared at it for a second, then slowly raised his brows, clearly offended.

“Ow,” he said dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “I’ve asked you like… a hundred times about the ring. And every single time, you shake it off like it’s a joke!”

Jisoo’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me? So if I shake it off, that automatically means I don’t deserve a ring?”

He blinked. “I didn’t say deserve—don’t twist it!”

“Oh, I’m not twisting anything, Mr. Pre-Declared-Fiancé,” she shot back, arms crossing. “If I remember correctly, every time you brought it up, you were half-laughing, and I thought you were joking!”

Taehyung looked at her in disbelief. “Jisoo. I sent you Pinterest boards. Multiple. With styles.”

“And I liked the ones with flowers and you said they looked like grandma rings!”

“Because they did!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I mean—you’re gonna wear this for life. I wanted it to feel like you, not your seventy-year-old aunt.”