36. “Baby I will never stop trying to help you see your beauty.” with taehyung | 3.2k
Taehyung knows, just knows, that there was no way you weren’t hungry this morning. Last night had been one of those rare occasions where he was home before you, and he remembered you heading straight to bed the minute your shoes were off, turning down his offer for takeout in favour of sleep. He locks the door, and recounts the conversation from earlier.
(The smell of scrambled eggs, a newfound favourite ever since he stole a piece from your plate, pulls Taehyung out of bed. He treads over to where you stand, dressed in his shirt, hair messily pulled into a bun and he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around you. So, he does just that.
His arms engulf you and he buries his nose in your shoulder, taking in your scent.
He hears you chuckle, finally up? and he hums back.
“Tae, I can’t do anything if you’re holding onto me like this.”
He opens his eyes and sees that from where he’s got you anchored in his embrace, the salt shaker is just too far from your fingertips. Wordlessly, he loosens his hold, and you get back to making breakfast, well, as best as you can when there’s a grown man leaning on you.
He studies your features in the morning sun: the curve of your brows, partly covered by hair that fell loose; the slope of your nose, cupid’s bow, and the soft lines of your lips.
“My Y/N, you look so pretty today,” he gives you a squeeze at that, earning a chuckle from you.
“I know, I know, you tell me every day,” he feels you pat his arms around your waist.
He plants a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “because it’s true.”
You jokingly smack his arm. “Alright, Romeo. Times’s a-ticking. Let me go so I can get changed.”
“You’re not eating?” he leans back to get a better look at you.
“Not hungry. Now, really, I’m gonna be late, Tae.”
He huffs, but lets his arms drop from around your waist. You give him a quick peck before heading off to the bedroom.
After some contemplation, Taehyung decides that breakfast can wait, and follows after you. He finds you as you’re taking one last check in the mirror, fingers running through your hair to get the knots that you can’t be bothered to brush out. He takes in your outfit and marvels at how they fit on you.
“Wow” he breathes out in awe.
He sees you pause, and you glance up to his reflection in the mirror. “Wow?” you laugh, fingers resuming their course. “I wear this all the time, tae.”
He settles down on the edge of the bed, eyes tracing your every movement. “I know, but it looks good, baby, really good.”
You send him a weird expression over your shoulder, “telling me once a day at breakfast isn’t enough, tae?”
He brings one hand to his chest, mouth agape in mock offence. “Baby! I will never stop trying to help you see your beauty!”
You cover your mouth with one hand, your laughter now filling the room. You stride over to lean down and whisper, “I knew I could count on my prince,” a grin adorning your lips.
He pretends to kneel, one arm lifted behind him and, “it’s my pleasure, your highness.”
You plant a kiss to his forehead and ruffle his hair before turning to grab your purse. He follows you to the door.
“See you later, Tae.”
“Bye, Y/N,” he waves back, and adds, “fighting!”)
Maybe he’s wrong, Taehyung ponders. Maybe you’d grabbed something on the way or maybe you’d really not been feeling hungry. Nonetheless, it still doesn’t explain the untouched popcorn during movie marathons, how you now always carry a glass of water in hand, and how food in the fridge seems to stay there longer.
But he doesn’t know how to bring it up, either. With Jimin, it’d been easier. Tight schedules meant that the time they had to themselves was limited, so he kept his words short, directing the message to his best friend in the van, between rehearsals, urging the other to eat whenever there was a break. With Jimin, it’d been easier because he’d acknowledged it. They all knew why Jimin held himself back whenever food was involved, and it was only a matter of convincing Jimin that another bowl of rice would do him more good than harm.
With you, however, things were different. When Taehyung first noticed the change in your behaviour, he was staring at you through his phone and saw the way your face sunk into your cheeks. He asked for a tour of the kitchen, whining for you to show me some Korean food I think I’m getting sick of Burger King, just to confirm his suspicions. Through the pixelated images, he saw that the snacks he’d sent home months ago were barely opened, when in the past they’d be gone the following week. It had felt like a punch in the gut when Taehyung finally connected the dots and realized that something was wrong.
He couldn’t see you in person then, and it felt inappropriate to deliver all that he’d wanted to say over text, so he promised himself that he’d tell you once he got home. When the time came, however, it was during a one-week break and he found himself coming up short in words because you deserved a happy week with him, didn’t you?
He sighs, and finds himself dialing the number of his best friend. He’s greeted with a grunt, quickly followed by a mumbled whatdoyouwantit'slike6amtaeta–
“Jiminie,” Taehyung cuts him off, “I need your help.”
Taehyung can hear you in the hallway, and he’s just about to get the door for you when you beat him to it, letting it slam behind you and suddenly, he’s not so sure of himself anymore.
“Taehyung, what the fuck was that.” Your words writhe of anger and Taehyung thinks he can actually feel your stomps as you head his way. You throw your coat onto the couch beside him, and all Taehyung has to meet your glare is silence, the words he had ready now stunned out of his mouth.
“Nothing? Really, Tae? After that stunt you pull, embarrassing me in front of god knows how many people and my boss, and you’ve got nothing to say?” You jab your finger in his direction, and Taehyung has to remind himself to be the bigger person here because you’re hurting and it was somehow because of him.
“I–no, just … ” he trails off, at a loss for words, and it’s only worsened by how you’re staring him down with such a guarded expression that he almost doesn’t recognize you anymore. “I thought you’d like it, Y/N,” he looks into your eyes, willing his sincerity to reach through.
“Oh that’s just fantastic, isn’t it?” you bite back, and Taehyung wants to flinch back at the way your words sound drippingly sweet, something he’d never heard used on him. “And you thought hiring some teenage boys to march into the office, singing Bruno Mars to some bad ukulele is the way to my heart?” You dare him to respond.
“Y/N …” Taehyung bites his tongue because while he isn’t one to hold back when wrongly accused, he doesn’t want to make this worse. “I was worried about you.” He tries to take a step in your direction, only for you to take a step back and motion for him to stay where he is.
“Don’t,” you warn. “Worried about me?” you gesture to yourself.
“–because you weren’t eating much” Taehyung quickly adds.
“Well did you maybe consider that ‘Just the Way You Are’ isn’t going to fucking make anything better?”
Taehyung tears his eyes away, not wanting his anger, your anger, to get the best of him.
“Not everyone was born with great genes like you, damn it. Some of us have to actually work for our body, Tae.”
Taehyung spins around at that instant, gives you time to take those words back, but you don’t. So he walks to the door and heads out, each step tearing his heart apart but he knows it’s better than anything that might come out of his mouth.
Behind him, you stand rooted to the floor, staring after the closed door and Taehyung’s already walked too far when a sob rips out of your chest. For the first time in a while, you’ve only got the floor to catch you when your legs give out.
You’re only vaguely aware of someone pounding on your door, a loud open the door god damn it Y/N has you out of bed when the sky outside is only barely lit in the early morning–or is it evening? The next thing you know, your best friend has you marched into the shower, hands imploring you to hurry along because how do you not smell yourself right now?
The shower wakes you up, and you feel even better when she places a hot bowl of soup in front of you once you change into a different outfit than the one you’d been wearing for the past few days. Instinctively, you dive right in, the smell of the soup reminding your stomach that oh yeah, you’re hungry. Halfway through, you remember that this, food, was what started the fight between you and Taehyung and all of a sudden, your appetite is gone and you can feel the tears welling back in your eyes.
“Oh honey,” your best friend coos, reaching out to wrap you in a hug.
You lean into her embrace, and like you’ve done for her countless times over the years, she cards her fingers through your hair.
“What happened?” she softly whispered.
“… I-I messed up,” you chock out, and recount the story as best as you can between gasps for air.
“Shhh,” she sways you back and forth. “Is he still in town?”
You do the mental math, adding a few buffer days because you’re not sure how much time has passed but there’s no way it’s been a week, and nod back.
“Then go talk to him,” she implores. “Explain, apologize, say whatever you need to say. He loves you, Y/N, don’t forget that.”
You only huff in response, but, knowing she’s right, you get up and decide to pay the rest of the boys a visit, seeing how Taehyung’s probably at the dorm.
It’s almost ten when you arrive, the sun had set hours ago but you wanted to make sure you had everything. A knock to the door, and it’s Jungkook who greets you first. He gives you a wary smile and hello noona, taking the bags out of your hands, and tells you right away that Taehyung’s in his room. You muster a smile, grateful he didn’t comment on the bags under your eyes, and make your way to the end of the hall.
You ignore the way your heart is pounding against your chest, and raise your knuckles to the wood, but stop just before contact when a familiar voice cuts through the door.
“maybe she’s not worth it, taetae.”
You’re not sure if Taehyung is awake but if he is, he doesn’t say anything. The quiet lets your mind wander and you think about all the girls Taehyung could date and yeah, I’m not worth it, Tae. Your feet carry you back to where you came from, and Jungkook wouldn’t have noticed that you left for not the gentle click of the front door. He considers asking his hyung how the conversation was, but remembers the stench of the room from when he had to bring them lunch earlier, and decides against it.
The next morning, everybody is already at the dining table when Jimin drags a sleepy Taehyung into the kitchen. Everyone, even the normally blunt Yoongi, pretends they don’t notice the swelling around his eyes and the redness to his nose.
“Tae, eat up,” the eldest hyung commands, pushing the dishes toward him.
The latter weakly nods, takes a small bite, and puts his spoon down.
“Come on, TaeTae,” Jimin urges. “Hyung bought you your favourite cake too so you can eat that after.”
This catches Jin off guard. “Wait, Jimin, it wasn’t you? Who bought the cake then?”
Jimin looks up, unsure if Jin is setting up a joke in an attempt to cheer Taehyung up when Jungkook interrupts.
“Noona brought that cake over,” the youngest says, innocent eyes scanning the confusion in everyone’s expressions.
Taehyung looks up, “Y/N … she was here?”
Jungkook blinks, “yeah, last night. Didn’t you talk to her?”
Taehyung slams his hands on the table, and Jimin almost laughs because this is the most energetic Taehyung has been in a while. “JEON JUNGKOOK HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME?”
The youngest darts out of his seat at the speed of lighting and Jin has to physically hold Taehyung back.
“Look, Tae, you don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready, but maybe you should go talk to her,” Jin offers, and in an instant the latter quietens.
Namjoon walks up to the younger, always a soft spot for him, and pats his shoulder. “You know I want the best for you, Tae, but hear her out. We’re heading out in a couple days and you’ll feel better if you work it out before we leave.”
With some hesitation, Taehyung nods, and Hoseok takes that as his opportunity to usher him out the door, emphasizing how he and Jimin can take the time to air out their room.
A while later, Taehyung finds himself in front of your apartment, and when a knock doesn’t suffice in getting you to the door, he apologizes under his breath and unlocks it himself, suddenly feeling like an intruder in your space. He finds you in bed, a box of tissues by your pillow and it looks like you were going through an old photo album of the two of you, neatly placed on your desk amidst all the chaos in your room. He flips through some of the pages, silently thankful for all the times Jimin insisted on third wheeling, and all the times Yoongi quietly captured those moments in the background. He sits down by the edge of your bed and his fingers instinctively go to move the hair out of your face.
The motion is enough to wake you from your troubled slumber, and when you awake to see Taehyung petting you like you’re still the most precious thing in the world, you all but lose it.
Taehyung sees the corner of your mouth turn downwards before he sees the glint in your eyes, warning of another batch of tears. After all this, he still can’t stand the sight of you crying so he coos “don’t cry …” and runs his hand through your hair once more.
You ignore him, throw the covers to the side and unashamedly climb onto his lap. “I’m so sorry, Tae,” you mumble into his chest.
He rubs your back, falls back onto the bed so he can hold you better, but he doesn’t forgive you, not yet.
You were expecting this, yet it failed to numb the blow because you’re here with the boy whose heart you broke and every apology seems inadequate. You push yourself up, and ask, “why are you here?”
“To see you,” he replies. “To talk … to listen.” he gives, thumbs massaging your hips.
You hold back a sob; the magnitude of the moment weighing down on your shoulders because you’re aware that the future of this relationship could very well depend on what you say next.
Taehyung seems to read your mind, like he always has, and says, “just talk to me, Y/N. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
You nod, and it takes a while, but eventually the words start forming on your tongue and you’re filling him in on all that’s been going on: the ex boyfriend who’d convinced you that a sharper jawline, a slimmer waist and thinner arms would’ve made you better, prettier; how happy you were when Taehyung came into your life and you started thinking otherwise. You told Taehyung that, after your last relationship, you vowed not to talk about yourself in terms of beauty, a sort of coping mechanism you’d unconsciously developed because if beauty matters, then maybe I don’t matter at all, and how seeing his insistence on making sure you knew you were pretty made you feel like you had to work harder to prove yourself. That was how you got back onto the scale and started taking more time in front of the mirror again, not thinking he’d notice since he wasn’t home most of the time.
That led you to now, head resting on his chest and damp blotches on his shirt from your tears.
Taehyung’s silent for a while, knowing that the waiting is gruesome but he wants to get his words right so he takes his time.
“Y/N,” he begins. “You’re still pretty to me, Y/N,” and he feels you stiffen at this, but hopes that what he says next will make it better. “But it’s not something superficial. You know when you meet someone, get to know them, and then their personality kind of becomes them?”
Taehyung feels you shake your head, and this is when he wishes he’s got his hyungs’ ways with words. “I’m saying,” he clarifies, “you look so pretty because I see you and I see how you treat other people, how you help the grandma down the hall bring her groceries up, how you send my parents texts and keep them updated because you know how much they mean to me, how you always give your change to that one homeless man down the block even though everybody else has stopped trying because you’re doing your best to respect him, that he’s an adult, he can do what he wants with the money and that stuff, it just makes you look so so good.”
He feels hot tears through his shirt again, but his worries are quickly subdued when he hears you mutter you’re so good to me into his shirt.
“I’m sorry, Tae,” you repeat once more. “For what I said. And for not telling you sooner.”
“It’s okay, Y/N,” Taehyung forgives easily, especially when it comes to you. “Will it still bother you if I call you pretty?”
“Well … Yeah. Habits are hard to
change, you know?”
He nods. “Aright. Guess I’ll have to find something else.”
“ … Like what?”
Taehyung hums. “How 'bout,” he waits until you lift your eyes up in curiosity. “Drop dead gorgeous.”
“No,” you groan.
He chuckles. “I’ll keep thinking, then.”
What’s cookin’ good lookin’?
What’s shakin’, bacon?
Lookin’ clean, jellybean ;)
… Did you have to send that to everyone. Jungkook is still laughing at me.
requests are open :)