The rain made a soft sound against the window - a gentle pitapatpitapat that made Taehyung drowsy, laying in his bed, listening to Jungkook’s slow, rhythmic breath, asleep and peaceful. Everything looked blurry, in the grey, overcast tones of the not-yet-day that hadn’t even broke dawn yet. 

He felt warm, but not in an uncomfortable way: it was the warmth of a quiet love, hidden in between thick blankets and connected limbs, hands clasped even in their sleep. 

Taehyung never thought he’d be, one day, like this - sleeping safely in the arms of someone he loved and that loved him back. He had never thought himself worthy of it, too - he didn’t want to say damaged, and yet the word clung tightly to his tongue, like a curse that, if spoken, would break the veil of fantasy he was living in, unaware of it being a dream until he woke up and was faced again with an empty, cold room, alone under his blankets.

By his side, Jungkook stirred, breaking his train of thought; Taehyung looked to him, kissed his forehead, and went back to sleep, lulled by the gentle sound of the rain.