Work Text:
It was raining—the kind of rain that brought with it the earthy scent of petrichor. Some people curse this rain for ruining their plans, others see it as a blessing. Poets often use rain to describe a spectrum of emotions—happiness, pain, love, memories. For Taehyung, the rain reflected his life.
He didn’t mean to miss his cab, but he had stood too long in front of a painting at the gallery. It wasn’t his, but it reminded him of one he had once tried to paint during the worst months of his marriage, when he couldn’t tell if he was expressing heartbreak or simply trying to paint through it. The gallery manager sent an email after he stepped out…
Thank you for your submission. At this time, we are moving forward with a different set of artists.
So he wandered in his damp hoodie, coffee-deprived, and ducked into a street café with fogged-up windows. There was one empty table, but someone else reached it at the same time.
“You can take it,” the stranger offered, his voice lower than expected, warm but a little worn out like he had been talking all day and was tired of it.
“We can share,” Taehyung replied without thinking.
The stranger looked at him silently before saying, “Sure.”
They sat, facing each other, two strangers with laptops and too much silence between them. The tired looking young man introduced himself as Jungkook. He was in UX design or maybe product management. He explained it vaguely, brushing his hand through damp black hair. He looked like someone who didn’t get enough sleep and drank too much americano. When he smiled, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Taehyung said he was “between projects,” which was code for not knowing what the hell he was doing anymore. He used to paint full time but lately his canvases stayed blank. Like his marriage, it had started beautifully, then quietly collapsed due to too much expectations.
⛵️⛵️⛵️
The next time they met were pure coincidence. Jungkook walked into the same cafe, looking exhausted as usual, spotted Taehyung by the window, and lifted an eyebrow.
“You again.”
“You say that like you are surprised,” Taehyung replied,sipping matcha latte with a half-scoffed expression.
“I am. But I guess we are on the same schedule now.”
From then on, it became routine. They never texted, never planned but somehow, they showed up on the same days—Tuesdays, Thursdays, and rainy weekends. They brought books sometimes, laptops other times. They talked about films, about work, about Seoul’s endless construction noiseand politics.
Jungkook didn’t wear a ring, but he wore a watch that didn’t match his vibe. An elegant gold, a little too formal Rolex watch. One day, when he caught Taehyung glancing at it, he laughed.
“It’s a gift from my fiancée.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he said in a flat voice. “We are getting married next spring.”
Taehyung nodded and went quiet. He wasn’t sure why that stung. Maybe because Jungkook always leaned in a little when he laughed. Maybe because he listened so intently, unlike Taehyung’s ex-husband. Or maybe it was just because Jungkook had become the highlight of his otherwise dull life.
⛵️⛵️⛵️
“Were you always an artist?” Jungkook asked once.
They were sitting outside wearing scarfs and jackets to protect them from the harsh winter, watching traffic pass by.
“No, I studied business. Got a job in marketing. Hated it. Married someone who liked the idea of stability more than the reality of me. Then I started painting.”
“Oh, you are married?”
“Ended a few months ago.”
Jungkook was quiet for a moment. Then softly he said, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We were… friends by the end. Like roommates who shared an apartment and occasional therapy sessions.”
“That sounds tragic.”
It wasn’t, actually. But it should have been something more. We were too young and reckless, made irrational decisions, and were too eager to get married after just 2 months of dating. Only when we started living the “ real married life” did we realise that we weren’t compatible.” Taehyung took a deep breath. “He cheated on me with his junior associate. I tried to ignore it first but my love for him couldn’t after the third. It was a mutual agreement, but before we even got officially divorced, he proposed to his junior associate—a young and cheerful one, unlike me, who was born in the wrong era.”
Jungkook frowns, “I’m sorry to hear that, but why do you say you were born in wrong era?”
Taehyung huffs, “I like the old boring things like vintage artifacts, jazz music, books and paintings from the Joson/medieval era, my ideology is quite different from those of my age.”
“And what’s wrong in that? The world needs more people like you to appreciate what was once the gem, the real art. A lot of youngsters, including me, has fallen for the digital fantasy.”
Taehyung laughed, “it’s easy for you to say, but everyone doesn’t see it like you do.”
⛵️⛵️⛵️
It was another rainy day. Rain tapping against the cafe window in a constant rhythm. The cafe is empty, almost closing time. Taehyung had been sketching in his notebook, lines curving into shapes that didn’t make sense yet.
“You ever think about leaving?” Jungkook asked.
“Leaving where?”
“Here. The city. The country. All of it.”
Taehyung looked at him. “Why?”
“Because some days I wake up and think I’m living someone else’s life. The career, the relationship, the apartment with the matching dishes, a wardrobe with bright couple t-shirts, although I prefer to wear only black. It’s like I followed the instructions and still ended up lost.”
Taehyung’s pencil paused. “Maybe you didn’t follow your own instructions.”
Jungkook turned toward him then. He saw a glimpse of his own future in Taehyung’s eyes. Unhappy marriage, too many expectations from others, everything turning into pain and misery.
Jungkook didn’t say anything the next time they met. Not about his fiancée, not about the wedding. He seemed to be quiet and just observing things.
Taehyung didn’t press. He had learned to live in silences, especially those that weren’t his to fill. But he noticed things, like how Jungkook no longer wore the gold watch, how his smiles came slower now, not because he was unhappy but because they were more honest.
They talked about trivial things that day. A new Korean movie, in which one of Taehyung’s favourite actor Park Seojoon is leading. A mutual hate for eggplant, how Taehyung always forgot to charge his phone and Jungkook teased him gently, like always. But it was in the way he looked at himthat made Taehyung feel like something dangerous was growing between them.
“Can I tell you something weird?” Jungkook asked as they walked side by side to the subway station, their coffees long gone and the sky slowly dimming.
“Sure,” Taehyung said.
“I never thought I would meet someone like you. Not now. Not here.”
Taehyung’s steps faltered for a moment, but he kept walking. “You mean in this part of town?”
“I mean in this part of life.”
There was a long pause.
“You are engaged,” Taehyung said, reminding the younger, knowing exactly where this conversation is going.
“I know.”
“And I’m divorced.”
“I know that too.”
Jungkook stopped walking. They were beneath a flickering streetlight, everything around them dipped in gold and shadow. “I’m not saying it makes sense.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“That I think about you a lot more than I should.”
Taehyung’s heart stung in his chest. “You are marrying someone else.”
“I know.”
Another silence and this one was heavier as it stretched between them like a line neither of them could quite step over.
“I should go,” Taehyung said.
Jungkook nodded, eyes unreadable. “Okay.”
⛵️⛵️⛵️
Days passed. Then a week. No cafe meetings. No random running over. No texts, no calls, until one evening, Taehyung came home to find a note slid under his apartment door.
“I need to talk to you. One last time. If you will let me.”
There was an address. A hotel lobby cafe in Gangnam. Sunday, 5 PM.
Taehyung wasn’t sure why his hands trembled as he folded the paper.
But he went…
Jungkook was already there, dressed in a black turtleneck that somehow made him look both older and hot.
“I didn’t think you would come,” Jungkook said.
“I didn’t think I would either.”
They sat. Ordered coffee out of habit.
“I broke it off,” Jungkook said, just like that, without any context.
“With your fiancée?”
Jungkook nodded. “Two days ago.”
Taehyung stared at him, stunned. “Why?”
“You know why.”
Taehyung shook his head, slowly. “No. I don’t.”
“Because I fell in love with someone else,” Jungkook said, looking right at him. “And I couldn’t lie to her. This wedding wasn’t out of love anyway. It was just an arrangement between our families.”
Taehyung inhaled sharply. “Jungkook…”
“I’m not asking you for anything. I know you have been through your own mess. I know you are still healing. But I couldn’t go through with a marriage knowing my heart wasn’t in it anymore. That wouldn’t be fair to her.”
Taehyung looked down at his coffee. His hands trembling again. “I like you too,” he said finally. “Maybe I even love you. I don’t know when I have fallen, but I’m not ready.”
Jungkook nodded slowly. “I know.”
“You are the first person I have felt something for since the divorce. And it scares the hell out of me.”
“It’s okay,” Jungkook said, in a steady voice despite the clear ache in it. “You don’t have to be ready. I just needed to tell you the truth before we distanced ourselves more.”
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung whispered.
Jungkook smiled then. A sad, soft smile. “Don’t be. You didn’t ask for this. Neither did I.”
When Taehyung got home that night, he cried. Not because he regretted what he said but because it hurt to watch something almost beautiful fall apart before it had the chance to bloom.He thought of Jungkook’s expression when he said “I know.” Not angry. Not disappointed. Just understanding and that made it worse. Taehyung had spent so long trying not to hurt anyone else. And now here he was, doing it all over again.
⛵️⛵️⛵️
Taehyung stopped going to the cafe. He didn’t want to risk seeing Jungkook again, not while his chest still ached thinking about the younger. He indulged himself into painting. Not for galleries. Not for clients. Just for himself. Abstract forms. Dark colours at first, then bolder ones, like he was trying to colour back into himself the parts that had gone numb. But the guilt lingered.
He hadn’t meant to lead Jungkook on. He had told himself over and over that they were just friends, companions in an unexpected moment of life. But somewhere between the coffees and conversations, between the quiet walks and long stares, something else had taken root. One was broken and the other was trapped in an empty void.
He replayed their last conversation a hundred times. The look in Jungkook’s eyes, the steadiness in his voice when he said, “You don’t have to be ready. I just needed to tell you the truth before distanced ourselves more.”
God. How do you walk away from someone like that?
⛵️⛵️⛵️
Jungkook didn’t try to reach out Taehyung again. He knows where he stood. He respected the distance. But in that silence, he went through a heartbreak, like as if he lost a long-lostlove.
Love knocked our doors at the most unexpected time.
Jungkook returned to his job. Kept his head down. People at work noticed he smiled less, but no one asked. The wedding announcements were cancelled quietly. His mother was disappointed, but she didn’t push. His ex-fiancée didn’t return the watch.
Sometimes, when he walked past certain streets, he thought he saw Taehyung. Just a glimpse of him—tall, brown coat, headphones over messy hair, always walking the other way.But Jungkook never tried to follow or seek.
⛵️⛵️⛵️
Three months later, Taehyung booked a flight to Amsterdam. Something inside him needed to get away. To breathe different air. To make art without the darkness and regret fogging his head. He remembers the time when Jungkook asked if he thought of leaving the city? He smiles silently.
He didn’t tell anyone except the one person he owed a final goodbye.
Jungkook showed up at the airport on a rainy day, dressed in simple jeans, a grey Balenciaga hoodie, and a black beanie that fit perfectly on his head.
Taehyung smiled when he saw him. Not the boxy smile that Jungkook loves, but just enough to say, “Thank you for coming. I wasn’t sure you would make it,” he said.
“I almost didn’t,” Jungkook replied. “But I figured we never got proper closure.”
Taehyung’s small smile faltered at hearing the word “closure.” They found a quiet corner near Gate 06, away from the loudannouncements and people rushing by.
“I’m sorry again. For everything.”
“Stop saying that. You were honest and that’s more than most people are.” Jungkook said gently.
“I still think about you, almost every day.” Taehyung confessed.
Jungkook looked down, sighing with his shoulders slumping. “Me too.”
“I’m not there yet. But I think I’m getting closer.”
“To what?”
“To being whole again. To being me again.”
Jungkook nodded with a soft smile. “Then I’m glad.”
Taehyung stepped closer toward him. “You made me believe I could feel something again after everything.”
“I didn’t do anything, hyung,” Jungkook said in a low voice.
“You did. You reminded me that I’m capable of love. That I’m not broken.”
Jungkook’s eyes glistened, but he didn’t cry.
“Promise me,” Taehyung took Jungkook’s hand in his, “that when I’m ready, and I call… you will still pick up. I’m not asking you to wait for me… but I want to hear your voice.”
Jungkook smiled softly. The same smile he had the day they first shared a table. “I will answer, no matter where I am.”
The final boarding call echoed through the terminal. Taehyung stood, picking up his small travel bag. They hugged like neither quite wanted to let go, but both knew they had to. As they stepped back, Jungkook spoke.
“We were ships in the night,” his voice cracked a little. “But I hope I get to see you again.”
Taehyung’s throat tightened as he nodded. “You will.” And with that, he turned and walked away.
Jungkook watched him disappear past security until he was gone. Just a memory now, or more like a dream he regretted waking up from.
⛵️⛵️⛵️
Left foot bouncing, fingers fidgeting, sweat sliding down the back of his neck, Jungkook sat outside the waiting lounge. He has an investor presentation now. It’s been eight months since he called off his wedding, eight months since he said goodbye to the one he loved, eight months since he decided to quit his overtiring job and start a design company with the help of his senior colleague, Kim Namjoon. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Frowning, he pulled it out to see a message from an unknow number.
“Same place, 5 PM?
His heart skipped a beat. There was no greeting, no introduction of who the sender was, no address or context, but he knew… he knew exactly who it was. He smiled and before thinking too hard, he replied.
“I will be there.”
With a newfound confidence, Jungkook stands up when his name was been called. He looks at his business partner Namjoon, they smile and nod to each other.
⛵️⛵️⛵️
The warm scent of coffee and cinnamon buns wafted through the air the moment he entered the cafe. His eyes wandered around the cramped little space, and a smile appeared when he spotted the person he was eager to meet, sitting by the window, watching the pitter-patter of rain outside.
The man looked different now with undercut hair, a buffed up body from constant workouts, tanned skin glowing in the dim light of the cafe. But one thing remained the same—his boxy smile, the one Jungkook loved.
Taehyung’s gaze roamed over Jungkook before pausing at his ring finger.
Jungkook chuckled, noticing. “I’m still single. I have been waiting for you, hyung.”
He pulled out the chair next to the elder and sat down.
“I guess we weren’t ships in the night after all,” Taehyung said, smiling fondly.
“No, we are not. I’m so glad you are back, hyung.”
“So then, let’s start over. I’m Kim Taehyung, artist by profession,” he said, extending his hand.
“I’m Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Golden Designs.”
They shook hands firmly, smiling at each other—a smile that reached both their eyes.
<The End>