Jungkook
The match lay still in his palm, too light for the weight it carried.
Burn it, if you want to survive.
But burn what?
The notebook? The memory? Himself?
His fingers trembled. The scent of smoke—not real, not yet—lingered at the edge of his thoughts, like a warning from something older than words.
He didn't sleep after that.
Didn't even blink.
Just stared at the torn page until dawn cracked its way into the sky, and with it came—
A knock.
Sharp. Three times. No hesitation.
He didn't answer.
But the door opened anyway.
Taehyung stepped in without permission, without apology. His eyes immediately landed on the match in Jungkook's hand.
Of course he noticed.
Of course he always knew.
"You found it," Taehyung said quietly, like it meant something more than just ink and paper and fire.
"You took it," Jungkook replied, voice raw. "Why?"
Taehyung didn't answer right away.
Instead, he walked past him, to the window, and pulled open the heavy velvet curtain. Sunlight poured in like a slap, exposing dust motes—and truths.
"That notebook…" he said slowly, "was never just yours. Not really."
Jungkook stood, heart racing. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Taehyung turned, face unreadable, "you're not the first person to write in it."
A silence fell. It pressed against Jungkook's ribs like a weight.
"You?" he asked.
"No."
"Then who?"
Taehyung took a breath. A long one.
"The third boy."
The scratched-out face.
The forgotten one.
"His name was Aurel."
The name hit like a ghost walking through Jungkook's bones.
"We were inseparable," Taehyung said. "Until Elias tore us apart. Until I let him."
The words hung there—stripped, bitter, fragile.
"What happened to him?" Jungkook whispered.
Taehyung looked away.
"He wrote until the end. That notebook held everything. His fear. His love. His last warning."
"And you kept it?"
"I kept the ashes."
Jungkook's throat tightened.
Taehyung finally turned, walking closer. He reached out—not for the match, not for the paper.
For him.
Fingertips brushed Jungkook's cheek. Barely there.
"I see him in you," he murmured. "But this time... I won't run."
Jungkook blinked fast. His voice came out quieter than intended.
"Are you protecting me or using me?"
Taehyung didn't hesitate.
"…Both."
It wasn't the answer he wanted. But it was honest.
And in this house of lies, honesty was dangerous.
"You said the truth knows me," Jungkook whispered. "What does that mean?"
Taehyung's eyes darkened.
"It means the walls are listening."
And just like that, he was gone.
Again.
Leaving behind sunlight and a match that pulsed like a heartbeat in Jungkook's hand.
That night, Jungkook didn't write.
He watched the flame.
But he didn't burn it.
Not yet.
He needed answers.
Even if they came wrapped in nightmares.
Even if they came from Elias himself.