CHARACTERS:-

Kim seokjin

Age:- 28yrs old

Kim Namjoon

Age:- 27yrs old

Kim Taehyung

Age:- 26yrs old

Kim Yn

Age:- 25yrs old

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Trigger Warning

Hey my lovely readers,

Just a little heads-up — this chapter includes Boy x Boy (BxB) moments. If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, please feel free to skip this chapter. Your comfort matters most 🫶

Thank you for understanding and supporting.

Happy reading (or skipping, if needed)

---

AUTHOR'S POV

The monsoon rain tapped gently against the kitchen window as Haeri stood still, holding a cup of lukewarm tea in her trembling hands. She hadn’t spoken a word since YN told her the news that morning. The aroma of ginger and cardamom hung in the air, but even her favorite tea couldn’t soothe the storm inside her.

"I got the job, eomma," YN had said, her eyes shining with excitement. "It's in Busan. A permanent position... finally."

Haeri smiled then — a small, motherly curve of the lips that tried to hide the weight pressing down on her chest. She had raised YN on her own, with no one else to lean on. Now, the thought of her only daughter moving away to a new city — alone — gnawed at her.

"You should be proud, Haeri-ya," murmured her older sister, Jiwoo, over the phone. "YN's grown up. You’ve done well."

Haeri sighed, her voice low, filled with hesitation. “I am proud. But… you know how quiet she is. How she gets overwhelmed sometimes. I just... I can’t stop thinking. What if something goes wrong? What if she needs me?”

“Then let her stay with me.” Jiwoo’s voice was calm, understanding. “She’s not a child, but she doesn’t have to live alone either. My place has enough space. She can stay here for as long as she needs.”

Haeri was quiet.

“Taehyung is here too,” Jiwoo continued gently. “And Namjoon. Seokjin just returned from Jeju last week. They’re her brothers, after all.

She won’t be alone.”

A weak smile tugged at Haeri’s lips. “You’re right… they’ve always been good to her.”

---

A Week Later — Busan

YN clutched her small suitcase in one hand and the strap of her backpack with the other. She looked up at the tall building, her heart pounding louder than the waves she had passed on her way here.

This was real.

This wasn’t a weekend stay or a vacation. This was her new home now.

The door opened before she could knock. Aunt Jiwoo, elegant as always in a soft beige cardigan and cotton slacks, pulled YN into a warm embrace.

“You’ve lost weight,” she whispered, brushing a hand over YN’s head.

“I missed your cooking,” YN smiled faintly..

“And you’ll get plenty of it now,” Jiwoo chuckled before stepping aside. “Come in, baby.”

YN stepped into the house, greeted by the scent of fresh lilies and something warm baking in the oven. The living room was cozy—lined with books, an upright piano, and several photos on the walls. Most of them were of the three Kim brothers growing up. Her cousin brothers.

Taehyung, the quiet and dreamy middle one—always scribbling poetry in his little black notebook.

Namjoon, the intelligent one—stern, mature, and often too deep in thought for his own good.

And Seokjin, the eldest—confident, playful, with a natural charm that made people stop and stare.

She still remembered their childhood days—Taehyung playing pretend with her in the backyard, Namjoon helping her with homework, Seokjin teasing her just enough to make her laugh and pout.

“They’ll be home by evening,” Jiwoo said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Taehyung is working on his new novel in the café down the street.

Namjoon has lectures today, and Seokjin had some meeting with a director.”

YN nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’ll stay out of their way…”

Jiwoo gave her a look. “Don’t be silly. This is your home too now. They’ll be happy to see you.”

---

Later that evening.....

The golden glow of the setting sun spilled across the living room floor as YN unpacked her last book on the shelf in her assigned room. Her room was simple yet cozy—a small desk, a large window facing the garden, and a queen-sized bed with pastel sheets.

The sound of the main door opening startled her.

“Eomma?” a deep voice called out. “Is dinner ready? I’m starving.”

It was Taehyung.

YN walked out of her room just as he turned around—and for a second, time paused.

He looked nothing like the boy she remembered.

His soft brown curls framed his face perfectly. His jawline was sharper now, eyes darker, with the kind of weariness only adulthood brings. He blinked—once, then twice—before a slow smile stretched across his lips.

"YN?"

She nodded shyly. "Hey."

Without another word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a warm hug. "I didn’t know you’d be here this soon."

“I missed the morning bus. Took the afternoon one,” she replied, burying her face against his chest for just a second longer than needed.

The scent of his cologne wrapped around her like a memory. Fresh, woodsy, familiar.

“Let me guess, eomma recruited you for dish duty already?” a teasing voice came from behind.

Namjoon.

Taller than she remembered, more intimidating too. He wore glasses, a few buttons on his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up revealing his forearms. A professor, yes—but nothing about him looked boring.

“I just got here,” she laughed nervously.

“Perfect. That means you haven’t escaped dinner with us yet,” he said, ruffling her hair.

And then… the last to walk in.

Seokjin.

The moment he stepped through the door, the air shifted. Wearing black slacks and a simple white shirt, his presence was magnetic. His eyes found hers immediately, and for a split second, something unreadable flickered in them.

“Look who it is,” he said, lips curling into a smirk. “The baby of the family.”

YN tried to smile but her breath caught in her throat.

Something about the way he looked at her didn’t feel like family.

Not anymore.

---

The dining table was set with care, just like Jiwoo always did—porcelain plates, brass spoons, and bowls full of jjigae, stir-fried vegetables, grilled mackerel, and warm rice. The aroma was comforting, nostalgic, but something about the air felt... still.

YN sat between Taehyung and Jiwoo, across from Namjoon and Seokjin. Her fingers lightly tapped the underside of the table, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the same kitchen where she used to laugh over watermelon slices and childhood dares. This wasn’t the same table where Seokjin once taught her how to eat with chopsticks properly, or where Taehyung spilled juice all over her drawings and made her cry.

They were adults now. And adulthood came with space—unspoken, heavy.

“So, how was your trip to the publishing house today?” Jiwoo asked, spooning more kimchi onto Taehyung’s plate.

“They asked me to add more spice to the main lead,” he muttered.

“Apparently, quiet characters aren’t exciting enough.”

Jiwoo smiled, brushing his hair back. “Your readers love the way you write. Don’t change too much.”

“And Joonie?” she turned. “How were your lectures today?”

Namjoon took a slow sip of water before responding. “Freshmen this year are a bit... chaotic. One kid asked if Freud was a philosopher or a K-pop idol.”

YN chuckled under her breath.

The sound made Seokjin glance up, a quiet smirk tugging at his lips. “Finally, someone laughs at your sad jokes, Namjoon.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t a joke.”

The table fell quiet again.

YN looked down at her food, stirring the rice with her spoon even though she hadn’t taken more than a few bites. The warmth of the food did little to calm the fluttering in her chest. She could feel Seokjin’s occasional glances. Taehyung’s leg accidentally brushing hers under the table. Namjoon watching her like he was analyzing a poem.

She used to know them—like second skin. Now she wasn't sure who they had become. Or who she was to them anymore.

“YN,” Jiwoo said softly, “Eat properly, hmm? You didn’t even finish half.”

YN blinked. “Ah, sorry... I’m just still settling in.”

Taehyung handed her the soybean paste soup without a word.

Seokjin was the first to finish. He stood, carrying his plate to the sink, then looked over his shoulder. “Thanks for dinner, eomma. I’m going to review a script upstairs.”

Namjoon followed soon after, quietly saying, “I have papers to grade.”

Taehyung lingered, waiting until YN stood up too, then walked behind her toward the sink.

As they placed their dishes down, Taehyung finally said, in a voice low enough just for her to hear, “You’ve grown up.”

YN looked at him, confused. “I was always grown up, you were just too busy with your stories.”

His lips curled into a brief smile before he turned and walked off.

---

Later That Night....

Wrapped in a soft lavender hoodie, YN sat cross-legged on her new bed. The lamp beside her gave the room a gentle amber hue as she dialed her mother’s number.

“YN-ah?” Haeri’s voice came through, warm and familiar.

“Eomma,” YN breathed. “Did you eat? Are you resting well?”

“Of course. You think I’m helpless without you?” Haeri chuckled softly.

“Besides, your brother and Minji came back this morning. The house is suddenly loud again.”

YN relaxed visibly. “They’re back? How was their trip?”

“Beautiful, apparently. Hyungwoo already bragged about the beach photos and how Minji dragged him to every shopping market in Jeju.”

YN smiled. “I’m glad. You’re not alone anymore. I was worried about you.”

“I should be the one worrying about you. How are Jiwoo and the boys treating you?”

“They’re... nice,” she said after a pause.

“It’s just... we’re not as close as before. It's like we all grew up and forgot how to be comfortable with each other.”

Haeri exhaled. “That’s normal, YN-ah. Everyone changes. Even you. Just give it time. You’ll find your place there.”

YN nodded slowly. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” Haeri whispered. “But you’re strong. You’ll be okay. Just remember... they’re still your family.”

Family.

The word echoed longer than it should have.

After the call ended, YN lay back against the pillows, pulling the blanket up to her chest. Her eyes drifted to the window, where city lights blinked in the distance like silent witnesses.

But her thoughts... they wandered down the hall.

To Namjoon’s deep stare.

To Taehyung’s quiet closeness.

To Seokjin’s smirk.

This wasn’t childhood anymore.

And maybe that’s what made it dangerous.

---

The morning sun filtered through sheer curtains, casting a golden wash across the living room floor. Jiwoo bustled around the kitchen, humming quietly as she stirred a pot of porridge. The familiar domestic rhythm hummed throughout the apartment like background music to an ordinary day.

YN sat curled on the edge of the couch, clutching a book she hadn't really read for the past ten minutes. Her mind kept drifting—back to last night’s strange tension, back to Seokjin’s gaze, Namjoon’s quiet watchfulness, Taehyung’s lingering words.

"Taehyung-ah, aren't you going to your café today?" Jiwoo asked as she passed by, glancing at her younger son who was lounging against the kitchen doorframe, still in his pajamas.

He stretched lazily, tousled hair falling over his forehead. “Nah, eomma. I don’t feel like going anywhere today. I think I’ll stay home.”

Jiwoo arched a brow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a small smile.

“Just... wanna stay home today.”

She didn’t press further. “Alright. Just don’t stay glued to your phone all day.”

“Noted,” he said, already distracted by something—or someone—on the other side of the room.

A couple of hours passed. The house settled into a peaceful hum. Jiwoo had gone out for groceries, and Namjoon was holed up in his study with headphones on, probably dissecting academic papers.

YN sat on her bed now, aimlessly scrolling through her phone when a soft knock echoed from her door.

“Yeah?” she called.

The door creaked open slightly, and Taehyung peeked in, his expression unreadable but gentle.

“Hey,” he said. “You busy?”

YN quickly sat straighter. “No. Just… wasting time.”

He stepped in without waiting for an invitation and closed the door behind him softly. Dressed in a loose cream-colored sweater and gray joggers, he looked cozy and warm—like a chapter of winter.

For a moment, he just looked at her. Eyes lingering on her features a second too long.

“You changed a lot,” he said.

YN blinked. “What?”

He smiled, that classic boxy smile that once made her giggle like a child. “I mean… you’ve grown up. Your face is sharper, your eyes… quieter.”

YN tilted her head, unsure whether to be flattered or confused. “That’s what adulthood does, Tae.”

He stepped closer and sat on the edge of her bed, leaning back on his hands casually. “You know... you still wrinkle your nose when you’re overthinking. Just like before.”

YN laughed, caught off guard. “I do not.”

“You do,” he teased, eyes sparkling now. “Sweetheart.”

That word.

Sweetheart.

It fell into the air like a stone into still water.

YN froze. Her eyes widened. Her cheeks heated instantly, like someone had flipped a switch inside her.

“W-What did you just call me?”

Taehyung smirked, clearly amused by her reaction. “Sweetheart. That’s what I always used to call you, remember?”

YN swallowed hard. “Yeah… but that was... ages ago.”

He leaned forward slightly, the air between them thinning. “Well… I missed it. I missed you.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, heart thudding against her ribs.

“You’re acting weird today.”

“I just didn’t expect you to change this much,” he said quietly. “You were always so clumsy and loud. Chatterbox. Crybaby.”

“Hey!” she nudged his shoulder.

“You’re being mean now.”

He grinned. “I mean it in the most nostalgic way.”

There was a silence. A comfortable one this time.

Then YN asked, her voice softer, “Do you remember the time I cried for two hours because you and Namjoon oppa didn’t let me watch cartoons?”

Taehyung laughed. “And eomma scolded me for being a bully. I ended up letting you draw on my arms for revenge.”

“You had pink butterflies all over your skin for a week.”

“I didn’t even wash it off properly because you got mad when it faded.”

They both giggled, the memory wrapping around them like an old blanket.

“What about the time you got stuck in the laundry basket and called it your spaceship?” he asked, eyes full of warmth.

“You promised to rescue me and then left me there for 40 minutes!”

“You looked too peaceful,” he defended.

YN rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “You were so annoying.”

“Still am,” he shrugged. “But you’re not that little girl anymore. And somehow that makes me want to know you all over again.”

That line.

It hung in the air. Soft. Bold. Dangerous.

YN didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

Taehyung didn’t press. He just smiled again, this time gentler, more thoughtful. “Anyway. Just wanted to check on you.”

As he got up to leave, he paused near the door, glancing back.

“You still look cute when you blush, sweetheart.”

Then he left.

YN sat frozen for a moment, lips parted, heart in her throat. She touched her cheeks and groaned into her pillow.

What was happening?

Why did it feel like everything that was supposed to be safe… was slowly catching fire?

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STAY TUNE FOR PART 2 OF THIS.......