While we've done our best to make the core functionality of this site accessible without JavaScript, it will work better with it enabled. Please consider turning it on! Paris 2. Amsterdam 3. Porto 4. Prequel: First kiss 5. Prequel: Gilded cage. The sun hangs low over the beautiful city of Porto. The summer breeze carries the scent of magnolias and citrus while water flows somewhere in the distance. Taehyung stretches lazily in a lounge chair, skin kissed by the sun, a book resting on his chest, eyes half-lidded as he listens to the world around him.
But it took time to get here. To finally have what Taehyung always wanted. Sacrifices had to be made. But Taehyung never hesitated. And he never will. They always come to him like an old movie projected before his eyes—especially today, on the anniversary of the day Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk ceased to exist. Jeongguk kept working at the garage, fixing up motorcycles. Taehyung spent his mornings at the bakery downstairs, flirting with the old woman at the register to get extra pastries, stealing bites when no one was looking.
They had friends—acquaintances, at least—shopkeepers who knew their faces, neighbors who nodded in passing. Taehyung learned how to say goedemorgen with an awful accent, and Jeongguk teased him for it every time.
At first, it was subtle—a shadow that lingered too long, footsteps that stopped when they turned a corner. He just stood by the window, cigarette between his fingers, staring into the darkness below. Always listening. Taehyung was humming to himself as he climbed the stairs, holding a bouquet of tulips in his hand, completely unaware of the shadow trailing behind him.
He reached for the gun pressing against his lower back on instinct. They bounced between cities, countries—Lithuania, Poland, Slovenia, Slovakia. Each stop more desperate than the last. For a while, Lithuania had felt safe. Too safe.
