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

CHAPTER 129: An Empty Tree

Gabriel's POV

The blueprint papers are still scattered across the table.

One of them has a smear of red, my blood, bleeding into the edge of the shelving diagram like the house itself is rejecting me.

My hand’s still at my face, palm pressed lightly to my cheek, fingers trembling a little.

Not from the pain, though the pain is real, but from the echo of the moment.

Jungkook’s punch wasn’t just an impulse.
It was a declaration.

He’s standing across the room now. Shaking. Fists clenched.

Shoulders heaving like he just sprinted through fire.

His eyes won’t meet mine, but they’re locked somewhere between fury and regret.

No one’s moved.
No one breathes.

Even Bam is still—head low, watching Jungkook with concerned eyes.

Wacha’s tail flicks once, unsettled.

Yeontan’s quiet in a way that feels unnatural.

Suga’s phone is still in his hand. The glow of his screen fades as he finally locks it.

His jaw is set too tight, brow pulled together—not angry, not focused.

Rattled.
He’s staring at something we can’t see.

“I…” I start, then stop. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.

The room is a minefield.

Namjoon sits stiffly, one elbow on the table, staring at the far wall like he's running every version of this moment in his mind, trying to make sense of it.

Taehyung is motionless in his seat, but his energy is a thundercloud held back by pride.

His hand rests protectively on the back of Tabby's chair, like he’s grounding her through proximity alone.

Hoseok paces once and then stops.
His expression flickers between heartbreak and helplessness.

Jimin’s knuckles tap gently against the dining bench, a nervous rhythm.

Watching. Reading.
Analyzing everything like a witness at trial.

Jin is the only one who moves.

He walks to the kitchen with quiet purpose, and returns with a box of tissues in one hand.

He doesn’t say anything.
Just hands one to me.

I press it to my lip. It stings.
Not much. But enough.

Namjoon's voice cuts through the stillness, low and sharp.

“Kook, you could’ve seriously hurt him—this isn’t how we handle things”

Jimin snorts under his breath, arms crossed. “It wasn't that bad.”

Then louder, eyes cutting toward me.

“He barely touched him. And Gab knows he crossed a line.”

“And what line was that exactly?” Hoseok fires back. “Touching someone’s hair? We’re punching people now for that?”

“It wasn’t the hair,” Taehyung says quietly, eyes unreadable, “It was everything behind it. He’s not stupid.”

“Exactly,” Jimin mutters, “He knew what he was doing.”

Jin exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, well we can’t solve this if we all lose our damn minds. Kook is out of line but so was Gabriel. Doesn’t mean someone had to bleed before breakfast.”