The semester break ended like a sigh, warm and fleeting.

But something had changed.

Gwanak-gu's streets were back to their usual rhythm, students dragging their feet in uniforms, café doors swinging open with the smell of coffee, and the occasional murmur of stress hanging in the air like smog.

But among the shuffle, two figures stood out: Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyung, walking side by side.

Hand in hand.

Taehyung's fingers were looped between Seokjin's like they belonged there. He wore a brown oversized cardigan over a white shirt, his denim bag slung casually over one shoulder. Seokjin, as always, looked put-together in a neat black coat, hair swept cleanly from his forehead but there was something softer in the way he walked, a quiet ease in the lines of his face.

They didn't say much as they strolled through the campus gates. They didn't need to. The silence between them now felt full, not empty.

Taehyung swung their hands lightly, grinning. "People are going to stare."

"They always stare at you," Seokjin replied without looking. "I'm used to it."

"No," Taehyung hummed, leaning slightly closer. "They're staring because the cold, perfect Kim Seokjin is holding my hand. In public. That's a story."

"Then let them write it."

That was when Yoongi spotted them.

He and Hoseok were standing by the department bulletin board, sipping iced coffee like they'd seen war. Hoseok blinked once, then twice, then looked at Yoongi for confirmation.

Yoongi said nothing. Just sipped again.

"...Are they...?" Hoseok started, eyes trailing to where their fingers were entwined.

Yoongi nodded slowly. "Holding hands? Yeah. Either they've entered their lovers arc or Seokjin got possessed by a romance demon."

"I knew it!" Hoseok whisper-screamed, almost spilling his drink. "Didn't I say? I felt something brewing last semester. That one time Taehyung was following Seokjin and Seokjin looked like he was resisting the urge to accept the feels!—bro, I knew."

Yoongi gave him a sideways glance. "Okay. Oracle of Gay Yearnings."

Hoseok pouted. "You're just mad I'm right."

Still, neither of them approached the pair. It felt too private, too new.

And perhaps they understood that right now, Seokjin and Taehyung weren't announcing anything. They were simply... existing.

As they walked across campus one quiet evening, hand in hand, Taehyung asked softly, "Do you think people like us get happy endings?"

Seokjin didn't answer right away. He glanced at the sky, the way it softened into shades of peach and lavender, the way spring air clung to them like a secret. And then he looked at Taehyung, who was looking only at him.

And he realized...
Maybe they didn't need an ending.
Maybe they just needed days like this.

With slow mornings and shared laughter, quiet glances in busy hallways, stolen moments after class.
Not grand. Not perfect.
Just theirs.

"I think this is one," Seokjin said finally. His grip on Taehyung's hand tightened, just slightly. "Maybe not the ending. But it's our beginning."

Taehyung smiled, eyes crinkling. "Then let's keep going."

And they did—into the slow-burning light of twilight, two silhouettes walking side by side.

Not chasing the future. Not running from the past.
Just living it, day by day.

Together.

Back at the Present

Edinburgh, United Kingdom

The rain fell quietly over the quiet city of Edinburgh, blurring the edges of the world like a fading memory. Seokjin stood by the tall window of his grandfather's study, dressed in a sleek black ensemble. A tailored black shirt tucked neatly into slim trousers, the fabric soft yet sharp, mirroring the restraint in his heart. His polished black shoes rested lightly on the patterned rug, completing the somber elegance he wore like armor.

He watched droplets race each other down the glass. Each one carried a fragment of the past, moments he couldn't quite hold onto anymore.

"Pathetic..." Seokjin mumbled, the coldness of his tone could set the whole world back to an ice age. In his palm, he traced the outline of a worn picture, its edges curled from years of being folded and unfolded.

It was a picture of two boys in college, smiling but eyes heavy with things left unsaid. Seokjin chuckled and sat down on the black leather chair. It had been years since that smile, since the last time he saw the warmth behind those eyes.

He gritted his teeth and closed the photo, leaning back into the chair as the weight of his grandfather's recent death pressed down on him. The grandeur of his new life in Edinburgh — the wealth, the prestigious degree earned with high honors, the impending role as heir to the family company — it felt hollow against the echo of a love lost and never fully grieved.

He wondered, not for the first time, if some wounds were meant to stay open. If some ghosts were meant to walk beside you, reminding you who you were... and who you never would be again.

And then, just like that... He remembered, their happy days.

"Kim Seokjin! There you are!"

Taehyung's voice shattered the silence, it startled Seokjin despite getting used to his loud voice, then it was followed by the hurried thump of his boots against polished wood. He appeared at the door, breathless, curls tied back in a loose bun, cheeks pink from the cold. "Seriously, your house is a damn maze. I've been looking everywhere. There was a corridor that just... ended in a wall!"

Seokjin turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "You've lived here for months."

"Yes, but it's not my ancestral maze," Taehyung shot back, stepping into the room. He glanced at the photo still lying on the table, then at Seokjin's face. "You're sulking again."

"I'm not sulking."

"You are. It's the squint." Taehyung said and poked his cheeks, Seokjin pouted.

Seokjin didn't turn around immediately. He kept staring out the window, lips slightly pouted.

Taehyung squinted. "Oh no. Is this about the maid again?"

Silence.

A grin slowly stretched across Taehyung's face. "You're jealous."

"I'm not," Seokjin muttered. A lie so obvious, the clouds outside should've laughed.

"She asked me if I liked scones and I said yes, I mean she only smiled and you nearly fired her."

"She didn't just smile," Seokjin huffed, finally turning to look at him. "She winked."

"And that's when you called her a disease." Taehyung said as he sat down on the leather chair, pulling Seokjin by the waist and guiding him onto his lap. "You're impossible." Seokjin said. wrapping his arms around Taehyung.

Taehyung snorted. "Hyung. I only have eyes for you. Come on. That's not even a fair competition."

"You're mine," Seokjin muttered, voice low, like it wasn't meant to escape.

Taehyung grinned. "I am. And you're mine." he rested his head against Seokjin's chest.

Now older, more grounded, Seokjin let himself lean into the warmth. The boy he once found annoying and a loud-mouth was now his husband, the love of his life, bold, mischievous, and  deeply loyal.

Seokjin had taken over the family company after graduation. His mother no longer controlled him. He was free to lead, and he led with precision. But when he returned home, he was simply Taehyung's.

Taehyung had graduated, too and now a well-respected landscape photographer. His works were featured in magazines and galleries, and his recent exhibit in London drew thousands. But here, in this home, he was just Seokjin's other half.

They lived together in the manor now. Quiet days. Loud laughter. Morning coffee. Late-night games of Uno where Seokjin still accused him of cheating.

Jinwoo and Yuri, surprisingly, started dating. No one saw it coming — least of all Yuri, who had finally moved on. Yoongi and Hoseok built a production company together and were already on their third successful project. They visited often, and their group dinners turned the once-sterile mansion into a home.

Now, with the rain soft against the window, Seokjin stood and turned toward the man still holding him.

"Should we have dinner soon?" he asked.

"Only if I cook," Taehyung said.

"That's a health hazard."

Taehyung laughed and kissed Seokjin's temple. "Then we'll eat out."

Their lives had changed in status, in place, in title. But at the heart of it, they were still just two boys who once locked eyes across a library aisle. The quiet top student and the chaotic art major. The boy who thought he couldn't be loved, and the boy who proved him wrong.

This wasn't just the end of a story. It was the continuation of the best part.

Their happy days, once lost, were now theirs to keep. Forever.

—Our Happy Days.

The End.

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𝘏𝘪, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦!

𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 23𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘦 10 — 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵: 𝘐 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 21. 𝘉𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘐 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 — 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥.

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘥𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭, 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 23 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 21-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳-𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦-𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘮. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.

𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 23, 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦. 💛

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦,

𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦