It was finally time to celebrate. Rhea and Yoongi carefully placed steaming dishes and side plates on the long dining table, laughter already bubbling between the group.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, Jimin stood up with flair, dramatically placing various bottles of liquor on the table. He grinned mischievously and nudged a bottle of tequila in front of Rhea.
She scowled at him and cursed him silently with every swear word she knew, though the corner of her lips twitched in amusement.
Glasses clinked. The room grew louder—Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin began play-fighting like overgrown children while Jin and Namjoon calmly chatted, pouring each other drinks. Yoongi and Hoseok were deep in discussion, heads close, while Rhea watched them with a quiet smile.
"Rhea! Be our referee!" Jungkook called out suddenly, referencing WWE with a grin. She laughed and joined in without hesitation, throwing her hands up like a dramatic referee, making the others crack up even harder.
But not everyone was entertained.
From across the room, Lila silently took in Rhea's appearance—oversized black shirt, baggy cargo jeans, disheveled bun, no makeup. Pale skin. Untamed.
The only thing she has going for her are those green eyes and that vaguely foreign look, Lila thought, judgment practically dripping from her stare.
Bored, she downed a shot and pulled out her phone. "Guys! Let's play something everyone can join in on."
The room quieted slightly, the suggestion floating above half-drunken chuckles. After a few murmurs of agreement, everyone made their way back around the table.
Subtly, Jungkook switched seats—abandoning the one beside Lila to sit beside Rhea instead, like a child hiding behind his big sister.
Lila's jaw tightened. She cleared her throat.
"Let's start with a trust game," she said, voice falsely sweet. "Say something you like about the person on your right. The last person will return the compliment to the person on their left."
Groans came from Yoongi and Namjoon.
"Can I skip and just drink instead?" Yoongi muttered.
"You'll need three shots of tequila for that," Jin warned with a smirk.
They both downed their shots with zero hesitation.
Hoseok began. "Namjoon, I like your loyalty."
Namjoon turned to Jin. "Jin, you always make everyone feel at home."
Jin to Jimin. "You've got the most contagious laugh."
Jimin to Lila. "You're bold. Sometimes too bold."
Lila laughed falsely and turned to Taehyung. "You're… eccentric."
When it was Jungkook's turn, he looked at Rhea and smiled.
"Noona, I like your tattoos."
Rhea laughed, winked at him. In the background, Lila's voice cut in. "She has tattoos?"
With a mischievous grin, Rhea stretched her arms overhead, letting the sleeve of her oversized shirt slide down and reveal the intricate, inked sleeve on her arm.
She turned her gaze to Yoongi, mind spinning. There are too many things I like about him. Where do I even begin?
"Come on, we don't have all night," Lila said, rolling her eyes.
Jimin shook his head and let out a sigh—equal parts annoyed and disappointed.
Rhea looked at Yoongi and said, clear and calm, "Yoongi... I like your softness."
"Softness?" Lila repeated. "You like men?"
The room fell awkwardly silent.
Rhea snorted. "Don't judge a book by its cover, lady. Just because I dress like this, don't wear makeup, and have tattoos doesn't mean I'm a lesbian." She poured herself a drink, took the shot cleanly, and added with a grin, "And yes, I like men—Men Yoongi."
Hoseok burst into laughter first, the others quickly following.
Yoongi turned beet red.
Hye– no—Rhea—pointed at Hobi with a satisfied smirk. "Thank you for catching that joke. You're my favorite."
"Ya, ya," Yoongi muttered, trying—and failing—to stay composed. Jimin and Hoseok teased him relentlessly, while Jungkook and Rhea clapped like mischievous kindergarteners. Pure chaos.
"Can we ditch the games and get to the real drinking now?" Rhea said, refilling everyone's shots. She handed a glass to Lila and winked.
Jimin took his seat again beside Lila, but she tugged on his sleeve.
"I wanna go somewhere else."
He turned to her, voice firm. "Where? You said you were spending the holidays with me. So you're staying."
The room shifted. The air felt heavier.
After a while, Lila insisted on another game—Truth or Dare. She nagged until everyone relented.
The bottle spun.
It landed on Rhea, with Namjoon opposite her.
"Truth or Dare?" he asked.
"Dare," she replied without hesitation.
A collective "Oooooh" swept through the group.
"I dare you to recite a poem you know by heart. Like you're in a classroom."
"Lame," Lila muttered.
"Suits her," Yoongi said. "She's got a bunch of Shakespeare and Austen on her shelf. She's a secret romantic."
Rhea blinked, caught off guard. How did he remember that?
Jungkook stood and gently pushed her up from her seat. "Go on! Center stage!"
"Can I skip?" she asked, eyeing the bottle of tequila.
Jimin handed it to her with a smile. "Or you could recite and save your liver."
She rolled her eyes and stepped forward.
Here goes nothing.
She cleared her throat.
"Look at me spilling beers and wine on the tableWe're both drunk and the earth is spinning;Everyone thinks they know us—But they know nothing, love.
All of this silence, patience, and waitingEven if the line ends without a hook—I'm holding on.
I've held my hands back from you since day oneWaiting for the day to say you're mine and only mine.
I keep thinking,Is this the right time? The right day? The right way?Ahh, I'm confused and don't know what to do;But all this silence, patience, and waiting—All led me to you. And only you."
As she said the last line, her gaze settled on Yoongi.
The room faded for him. Everything—noise, light, people—melted away. All he saw was her.
You. That one word echoed in his mind.
She returned to her seat, cheeks pink, avoiding everyone's eyes. "Was it okay?" she asked softly, looking only at Yoongi.
He smiled—a real one, gentle and sure. "Yes, it was."
He didn't look away. Not even as she poured herself another drink and downed it shyly.
The others gawked. Yoongi was leaning in, elbow on the table, chin resting on his knuckles. His gaze didn't waver.
Rhea raised a brow and reached across the table to pinch his cheek.
"Yah! Yoongi-hyung! The table's full of ants!"
"Get a room already!"
"Just date each other!"
***
By 2 a.m., most of the group had already stumbled off to bed—some with dignity, others less so. Only Jimin, Lila, Rhea, and Suga remained in the living room, dimly lit and heavy with the scent of leftover soju and kimchi stew.
Jimin, too drunk to drive, pulled out his phone and called a deluxe taxi for Lila. The silence between them crackled with unspoken words. They weren't looking at each other, but the air was thick with tension. Rhea noticed it immediately.
She leaned toward Suga and lightly tugged at his torso.
"I think I need to check something on my bike," she said, loud enough for the other two to hear.
Suga squinted at her, puzzled. "What, did you lose your keys?"
Rhea didn't reply. She just gave him a look, then flicked her eyes toward Jimin and Lila. The meaning landed immediately. Ah.
"Right. Yeah. The bike," Suga nodded, catching her telepathic signal. "Definitely needs checking."
With that, they stood up. Suga was wobbly—too many drinks for his compact frame—and Rhea instinctively reached out, wrapping an arm around his waist to support him. It wasn't easy; the height difference made things awkward, and he tried not to lean on her too heavily.
Jimin gave them a grateful glance. Rhea winked back at him with a subtle go do your thing expression before guiding Suga toward the door.
"You know," Rhea said, breathless from holding him up, "I can just grab a taxi from here. You don't have to follow me all the way out."
"I want to see you off," Suga replied softly. "Make sure you're safe."
Rhea's knees almost gave out at his words, and she stumbled. They both collapsed to the ground in a half-drunken mess, laughter and shock tumbling out between them.
"You need to stop saying things like that," she said, smacking his shoulder lightly. "I'm weak, and I mean that literally."
He winced dramatically. "Ow. Careful."
"Oh god—did I hurt you?" she asked, suddenly concerned.
Suga nodded, rubbing his shoulder. "I tore some ligaments in an accident a while back. Still bugs me sometimes. It's manageable, but, y'know... if you're gonna injure me, at least be gentle."
"I'm sorry," she said, genuinely apologetic. She placed a cautious hand on his back and tried to lift him again, despite being half his size and half as sober. Somehow, with teamwork and shared stubbornness, she got him to his feet and slung his arm over her shoulder.
Their eyes locked.
It wasn't just drunken tension—it was a long, lingering pause filled with something heavy and warm. Rhea's heart pounded. It wasn't the kind of flirty flutter she was used to. This one hit deeper, like a memory she hadn't lived yet.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she whispered, smiling through the nervous pounding in her chest. Her dimple peeked through.
Suga leaned in just slightly. "I'll gamble on that," he murmured.
And then he kissed her—soft, direct, and certain.
Rhea froze for half a second, eyes wide, unsure whether she was awake or dreaming. But when she felt his hands gently cradling her face, all hesitation shattered. She rose on her tiptoes, fingertips sliding to the back of his neck, and kissed him back—fiercely this time, unafraid.
She wasn't going to hold back anymore. Not with him.
She had done that enough in her life—waited, watched, measured. But something about this moment, this man, told her it was okay to let go. To believe. Maybe this was the beginning of something that didn't have to break her.
Maybe this was her chapter worth keeping.
The Next Morning
The sun was unkind. Suga groaned as he rolled over, head pounding. But something crinkled in his pocket. Curious, he reached in and pulled out a folded note.
A poem.
Last night's poem. But in Hoseok's handwriting.
He sat up, suddenly sober. His eyes scanned the words again and again, each line somehow more beautiful with every reread. His hangover disappeared, overtaken by the surreal, blooming emotion that filled his chest.
"It's a beautiful poem, hyung," a voice said, startling him. "Almost like it wasn't written on the spot."
Suga flinched, nearly falling out of bed. Hoseok was standing by the door with a smug smile.
"Have you been standing there this whole time?!"
"Long enough to see you cry over poetry." Hobi grinned.
"I wasn't crying—get out!" Suga grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at him. Hoseok laughed and dodged it, disappearing down the hall.
Despite the throbbing in his temples, Suga felt strangely light. At peace. He dragged himself out of bed, padding into the kitchen.
By 2 p.m., he was at the stove, humming quietly as he stirred a bubbling pot of army stew—hangover cure and comfort food in one.
He felt… alive.
Maybe a little in love.