P-R-O-M-I-S-E || vmin ff

Promise - 3

But today... today was different.

Not in a grand, life-altering way. No, it was a small thing, barely a shift, but it still sent something tilting inside Taehyung's chest.

It was the way Jimin laughed—head thrown back, eyes crinkled, face scrunched up in the most beautiful way—and Taehyung, like a fool, got too caught up staring. His brain short-circuited, his heart skipped, and before he knew it—bam.

He crashed into someone.

A mess of books tumbled to the ground, papers scattered in the air like startled birds, and Taehyung—too busy spiraling into disaster—felt himself losing balance.

Except, before he could topple backward into oblivion, strong hands gripped his arms, steadying him with an ease that sent a shiver down his spine. Jimin.

"Shit—fuck! I'm so sorry, let me help!" Taehyung blurted out, immediately crouching to gather the fallen supplies, hands moving frantically to scoop up the mess he'd made. His heart was still pounding, but whether from the collision or the fact that Jimin's hands had just been on him, he wasn't sure.

The guy he had crashed into groaned, rubbing his back before waving off the apology with a grin. Taehyung blinked, studying his face.

Why does he look familiar?

The thought barely settled before the stranger extended a hand, voice smooth with something almost too casual.

"Myself Lee HeeJun, I think I've seen you before?"

Beside him, Jimin stiffened.

It was slight, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but Taehyung felt it. The shift in his posture, the sharp inhale, the way his presence suddenly became quieter, more withdrawn.

And just like that, everything fell into place.

The familiarity of the name. The face, older now but still carrying that smug, self-assured air. The memories that surged forward, unwelcome and burning.

Lee HeeJun.

Jimin's biggest nightmare throughout elementary and middle school. The one bully who never stopped, even after Taehyung got involved. Even after he broke his nose. The one person who didn't back off, no matter how many times Jimin begged him to just leave him alone.

Taehyung's fingers clenched around the stack of papers in his hand. He looked up, gaze trailing over HeeJun's face, and there it was—the faint scar left behind from that broken nose and the surgery that followed. He'd heard HeeJun's family moved to Seoul before high school started, and he and Jimin had been ecstatic. They'd even thrown a celebration party in Jimin's basement, drunk on soda and relief, promising they'd never have to deal with him again.

But apparently, luck had run out.

Taehyung forced his grip to relax, inhaling through his nose before exhaling slowly. "Ah, yeah... are you in Art 113?" His voice was flat, void of the easy friendliness he usually offered to new acquaintances. He refused to take the outstretched hand, refused to acknowledge the familiarity HeeJun was so eager to pretend existed.

He hoped—prayed—the guy would take the hint and just leave.

But of course, HeeJun hadn't changed.

"I am, actually!" he said, voice too bright, too friendly. It threw Taehyung off for a moment, because since when did he talk like that? He hadn't recognized HeeJun before, but now that he thought about it, he had noticed someone vaguely familiar sitting a few rows back in class. He just hadn't looked closely enough.

And HeeJun? An art major?

Taehyung would've guessed something else—sports, business, medicine, or just plain assholery. But art?