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Assistant: Title: Lost in Translation
        Author: Halifa Halifa 
        Chapter: 1/1 
        Summary: Yoongi has spent years in a relationship where he’s always the one adjusting. Hoseok loves him, but learning sign language? “It’s too hard.” Instead, Hoseok relies on Yoongi texting or their friends translating. Yoongi tells himself it’s fine—until Jeongguk transfers to their school.Jeongguk, who’s fluent in sign language. Jeongguk, who talks to Yoongi effortlessly, making him laugh in ways Hoseok never could. Their instant connection forces Hoseok to realize just how much he’s taken for granted. In a desperate attempt to fix things, Hoseok finally starts learning sign language—but it’s too late.Because love isn’t just about words—it’s about effort. And in the end, Yoongi chooses the person who understood him from the start.
        Contents: Summary:
            
              Yoongi has spent years in a relationship where he’s always the one adjusting. Hoseok loves him, but learning sign language? “It’s too hard.” Instead, Hoseok relies on Yoongi texting or their friends translating. Yoongi tells himself it’s fine—until Jeongguk transfers to their school.Jeongguk, who’s fluent in sign language. Jeongguk, who talks to Yoongi effortlessly, making him laugh in ways Hoseok never could. Their instant connection forces Hoseok to realize just how much he’s taken for granted. In a desperate attempt to fix things, Hoseok finally starts learning sign language—but it’s too late.Because love isn’t just about words—it’s about effort. And in the end, Yoongi chooses the person who understood him from the start.
            
        


  





    
        
          Mid-afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves of the tall oak tree, casting dappled shadows across the quiet street. A figure emerged from the shade, the rhythmic tap of a white cane echoing against the pavement. Yoongi navigated the familiar path with ease, his eyes closed but his world not entirely silent. The distant chatter of children playing, the occasional car driving by, and the rustle of the leaves whispered secrets to him, painting a picture of the world around him. He was mute, not deaf, and he'd learned to listen with his heart more than his ears.He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for the light to change. His hand, adorned with a simple silver ring, paused over the button to signal his presence. He felt the vibration under his fingertips, a silent shout to the world that he was there, waiting. A gust of wind played with the soft strands of his hair, caressing his cheek as he felt the air around him shift. The scent of rain approached, hinting at a storm that would soon break the tranquil scene. Yoongi loved these moments—the anticipation, the promise of change. He wished his relationship with Hoseok could be so vibrant and alive.As the pedestrian light flickered to life, he crossed the street. His steps grew more deliberate as he approached the school gates. Yoongi knew every crevice and corner of this place, having attended since he was a young child. The memories of his past played out like a silent movie in his mind, a reminder of the isolation he often felt. Despite this, he found comfort in the predictability of his routine. He was known as the quiet one, the one who communicated with a smile or a nod. His heart ached for the connection that seemed to elude him, especially with Hoseok.Hoseok, with his bright smile and boisterous laugh, had swept into Yoongi's life like a tornado, disrupting the calm and bringing with him a whirlwind of emotions. They'd met in the library, where Yoongi had retreated to escape the cacophony of voices. Hoseok had stumbled upon him, reading a book with such intensity that he hadn't noticed his approach. It was their shared love for literature that had first brought them together, but it was Yoongi's gentle spirit that had kept Hoseok by his side. Despite Hoseok's refusal to learn sign language, Yoongi had accepted it, not wanting to burden his partner with something that seemed so daunting.But as Yoongi grew more accustomed to the silent conversations with his hands, Hoseok remained steadfast in his reliance on technology. Text messages and handwritten notes became their mainstay, a stark contrast to the richness of face-to-face communication he craved. He'd often find himself watching others, longing for the ease with which they shared their thoughts and feelings. The frustration grew like a knot in his stomach, tightening each time Hoseok looked at him with those warm eyes and said, "I'm sorry, I just can't get the hang of it."They'd been together for almost five years, a journey marked by moments of joy and silent tears. Hoseok was the first to hold Yoongi's hand, the first to kiss him, and the first to tell him, "I love you." Yet, for all the firsts they'd shared, there remained a barrier—one that neither of them seemed eager to bridge. Yoongi had taught Hoseok a few signs early on, but it was a half-hearted effort on Hoseok's part, a gesture to appease rather than understand. The more Yoongi thought about it, the more he realized that Hoseok had never truly tried to learn his language, to enter his world.Lunchtime arrived with the clang of the school bell, echoing through the corridors like a metallic symphony. Yoongi followed the familiar path to the cafeteria, the aroma of warm food and the clamor of students melding into a comforting cacophony. His eyes searched the crowded room for his usual spot where his friends—and Hoseok—waited. But today, there was an unfamiliar presence, a boy with a shock of curly hair and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through him.Jimin waved him over, his smile broad and welcoming as always. "Guys, this is Jeongguk," he announced, gesturing to the newcomer. "He just transferred here. Jeongguk, this is everyone."Yoongi watched as Hoseok looked up from his phone, his eyes narrowing slightly. He felt the tension in his chest as Hoseok took in the new addition to their group. The others offered polite smiles and nods, but it was the way Jeongguk's gaze lingered on Yoongi that made his heart flutter. "This is Yoongi our hyung" Jimin said while gesturing to the other "He's mute"Jeongguk's eyes lit up with genuine interest, a stark contrast to the puzzled or pitying looks Yoongi was used to receiving. He approached with an ease that belied his recent arrival, his hands moving gracefully as he signed, "Hello, it's nice to meet you." The words formed in the air, a silent melody that only Yoongi could hear.Surprise and relief washed over Yoongi as he responded, his own hands dancing in response. For the first time in years, he didn't need to rely on the translations of his friends or the limitations of his phone to express himself fully. The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a river of gestures and expressions that carried stories and laughter. Hoseok watched with a mix of confusion and curiosity, his thumb hovering over the screen of his device, forgotten.The others at the table tried to keep up, asking questions through Jimin, who translated with the occasional awkward pause. Jeongguk was patient, explaining that he'd had a deaf best friend growing up, which had led him to learn sign language. The ease with which he moved his hands was mesmerizing, a silent poetry that painted a vivid picture of his words. Yoongi felt a kinship with this stranger, a bond forged in shared understanding.As they talked, Yoongi found himself signing more than he had in years. He told Jeongguk about his love for art, the way he lost himself in the strokes of a brush or the curves of a sculpture. He vented about the frustrations of his relationship with Hoseok, the pain of being misunderstood and overlooked. Jeongguk nodded, his eyes filled with empathy as he shared his own experiences with the challenges of communication.They discussed music, movies, and their favorite books. Jeongguk spoke of the rhythm in the air when a song played, the way he could feel the bass thump through his chest, and the emotions that danced in the silence between notes. Yoongi, in turn, described the beauty of a well-crafted sentence, the power of a single word to evoke a universe of feelings. It was a conversation that transcended the barriers of sound, a meeting of minds that was as refreshing as the scent of rain on dry earth.But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, Hoseok grew quieter, his thumbs still but his eyes darting between Yoongi and Jeongguk. The ease with which they communicated was a stark reminder of his own limitations. He felt a pang of jealousy, a twinge of something that whispered of fear. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to rely on being Yoongi's voice, the one who translated the world for him. Watching Yoongi interact so freely, so openly, with someone else was like watching a door close between them, one he hadn't even known existed.Finally, he could take it no longer. He cleared his throat, the sound echoing through the cafeteria. The conversation between Yoongi and Jeongguk stuttered to a stop, and all eyes turned to him. "Hey," Hoseok began, his voice a little too loud, a little too forced. "Just so you know, Yoongi's mute, not deaf. He can hear you, just can't talk.""Yeah but Yoongis mother tounge is KSL not Korean?" Jeongguk replied with a question, his hands moving in a gentle arc to emphasize his point.Hoseok flinched at the mention of Korean Sign Language, feeling a sudden jab of guilt. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "It's just so other people can understand what you guys are talking about"Yoongi looked at him, a complex mix of emotions playing across his features. He knew Hoseok meant well, but it stung that he had to be the one to remind others of his limitations. With a sigh, he turned back to Jeongguk, signing, "Thank you for understanding. Not many do."The bell rang out, signaling the end of lunch and the return to class. As they gathered their things, Hoseok's gaze lingered on the two of them, his eyes questioning. Yoongi felt a weight lift as he and Jeongguk said their goodbyes, the promise of a new friendship in the air. They exchanged numbers, thumbs flying over phone screens in a silent conversation that didn't need translation.That evening, when the house was quiet and the rain had settled into a gentle patter, Yoongi's phone buzzed. He picked it up, expecting a text from Hoseok, but instead found a notification for a video call from an unknown number. He answered with a thrill of anticipation, and Jeongguk's face appeared, his hands already signing a greeting. The screen between them didn't feel like a barrier but rather a window to a new world where they could communicate freely, without the need for intermediaries.Over the next few days, their video calls became a sanctuary for Yoongi. He'd slip away to his room after dinner, eager to escape the silence of his text-driven interactions with Hoseok. Jeongguk was a whirlwind of words, sharing stories and thoughts that flowed through his fingers like a silent symphony. Yoongi felt seen, heard, and understood in a way he hadn't since he was a child, playing with his deaf classmates. They discussed everything—their hopes, their fears, their passions. Each conversation was a balm to his soul, soothing the wound that Hoseok's indifference to his language had left unhealed for so long.Their friendship grew fast, with an ease that surprised even Yoongi. They'd sit under the tree during breaks, signing back and forth, the rustle of leaves their only other music. Jeongguk's eyes would crinkle in amusement at Yoongi's dry wit, his laughter a silent burst of joy that Yoongi could almost hear. Meanwhile, Hoseok watched from the outside, a spectator in a play that didn't need his lines. He'd try to join in, his thumbs flying across his phone screen, but it wasn't the same. The richness of their silent exchanges was lost in translation.Everytime Hoseok said something Jeongguk would answer him quickly and go back to signing with Yoongi. It was like Hoseok’s voice was just background noise to them, something they were aware of but didn’t actively engage with. Hoseok’s texts grew shorter, the emojis less frequent. He watched as their hands danced in the air, speaking a language that didn’t need sound or screens. The ease of their friendship was like a gentle reminder of his own failure to bridge the gap.One evening, as they were walking home from school, the tension grew palpable. Yoongi had been lost in thought, signing a joke to Jeongguk, when he noticed Hoseok’s silence. The usual chatter had dried up, and in its place was a heavy weight that seemed to drag at their steps. Hoseok finally spoke up, his voice tight. "Why do you guys have to sign all the time?" he asked. "I feel like I'm being left out."Yoongi paused, his hand hovering in mid-air. He turned to face Hoseok, his eyes searching for the right words. "It's just...easier," he signed slowly, his heart sinking with each gesture. "And Jeongguk enjoys it."Hoseok's jaw tightened. "But I don't understand it," he said, the words coming out more accusatory than he'd intended. "It feels like you're keeping secrets from me."Yoongi felt a flash of anger, his hand dropping to his side. "We're not keeping secrets," he signed, his movements sharp and precise. "You just won't learn."Hoseok's eyes searched his, and for a moment, Yoongi saw the hurt reflected there. "It's not that easy," Hoseok said, his voice low. "You know that.""All of our friends in the group know sign language" Jeongguk said, trying to mediate the situation. "It's just more comfortable for us to communicate with Yoongi this way.""I know," Hoseok replied, his voice tight. "But I'm your boyfriend. Shouldn't I be the one you're most comfortable with?"The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken accusations. Yoongi sighed, the weight of years of unspoken pain etched in the lines around his mouth. "You could be," he signed. "If you'd just try."Hoseok stared at him, the realization dawning like a slow sunrise. His thumbs hovered over the untouched phone in his pocket, a silent testament to the barrier he'd created. "But it's hard," he protested, the words feeling hollow.Yoongi's eyes searched his, the accusation in his gaze unmistakable. He signed, "You never even tried." The words hung in the air, stark and painfully clear, even to someone who didn't know the language. It was as if the silence had given them a voice, louder than any spoken word.Hoseok looked away, his shoulders slumping. The truth of Yoongi's words settled in his chest like a lead weight. He had always thought that his love was enough, that his efforts to make their relationship work were all that mattered. But watching Yoongi with Jeongguk, he realized that love was not a substitute for understanding. It was not enough to know someone; he needed to know them fully, in every way.The walk home grew colder, the wind picking up as the storm clouds rolled in. Rain began to fall, a soft patter that grew into a steady rhythm against the pavement. Each drop mirrored the realization in Hoseok's heart—his love was not enough. He had taken Yoongi's patience, his willingness to adapt, for granted. He had become complacent, content with the status quo. But as he watched the ease with which Jeongguk and Yoongi communicated, he saw what he had been missing.The next morning, Hoseok woke early, the decision made. He sat at his desk, the room still cloaked in shadows, and opened his laptop. Online courses, videos, books—there were so many resources at his fingertips, so many ways to learn. He selected one, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and fear. It was time to step into Yoongi's world, to truly understand him.Hoseok's journey into sign language was fraught with challenges. His fingers felt clumsy, the movements unnatural. He'd stumble over basic phrases, his hands awkwardly forming shapes that didn't quite match the graceful motions he'd seen from Yoongi and Jeongguk. Hours turned into days, and days into weeks. He practiced in secret, not wanting to disappoint Yoongi with his ineptitude. The frustration grew with each failed attempt, the words in his head refusing to translate to his hands.Yoongi noticed the change in Hoseok's behavior—his increased phone usage, the way his eyes darted away when Yoongi signed something complex. He felt a flicker of hope, but it was guarded. He'd been down this road before, the excitement of new beginnings often fizzling out like a dud firework. So he said nothing, watching from the sidelines as Hoseok tried to navigate this silent world.One evening, as Yoongi sat at the kitchen table, sketching in his notebook, Hoseok approached with a tentative smile. His hands moved haltingly, the signs for "I'm trying," and "I love you" stuttering through the air. Yoongi's heart swelled with a bittersweet mix of emotions. The effort was there, a sincere attempt to bridge the gap, but it felt like an afterthought, a realization that had come only after witnessing the connection he'd formed with Jeongguk.The days turned into weeks, and the awkwardness remained. Hoseok's signing improved, but the ease between him and Yoongi was still marred by the constant need for translation. Jeongguk was always there, ready to bridge the gap with his nimble fingers, but it was a reminder of the distance that still lingered. Yoongi found himself retreating into his art more often, the strokes of his brush a silent release for the frustration that built inside him. He wanted to be happy for Hoseok, for the effort he was making, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was too little, too late.One night, as Hoseok practiced his signs with the dedication of a novice, Yoongi couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment. He watched as his boyfriend's hands fumbled through the air, trying to express the simplest of thoughts. Why now? Why had it taken the threat of losing him to make Hoseok want to truly communicate with him? The guilt grew, a thick vine that coiled around his heart. Was it fair to hold onto this anger? Hadn't he been the one to accept their limited means of communication for so long?The rain pattered against the window, a rhythm that mirrored the turmoil in his thoughts. He knew he should be happy that Hoseok was making an effort, but the question remained—why had it taken so much for it to happen? Was it because Jeongguk had come along, a reminder of what he could have had all along? The doubt gnawed at him like a persistent ache, a whisper that told him he wasn't enough on his own.Yoongi sighed, setting aside his brush. He knew that anger was a dangerous emotion, one that could ruin what little they had left. But as he watched Hoseok's clumsy attempts to sign, the words "too little, too late" echoed in his mind. He'd given so much, adapted to Hoseok's world in ways that often left him feeling like an outsider. Yet here he was, feeling guilty for expecting the same in return.Jeongguk sat on the edge of the bed, his own sketchbook forgotten in his lap. He'd become a silent observer of their relationship dynamics, the tension between them as palpable as the rain outside. His eyes flicked between the two, noticing the way Yoongi's shoulders tensed with each stumble in Hoseok's signs, the way Hoseok's eyes searched Yoongi's for validation that never quite came. It wasn't his place to interfere, but the desire to smooth things over was a strong one.He'd seen the change in Hoseok, the way he'd thrown himself into learning sign language like it was the key to unlocking a treasure chest. But Yoongi remained wary, a fortress built from years of unmet expectations. Jeongguk knew that pain, the ache of longing for someone to truly understand. He'd felt it when his deaf best friend had moved away, leaving him with a world that was suddenly too loud, too empty. So, he watched, and he waited, ready to offer support or a kind word when needed, but mostly just there.In the quiet moments when Hoseok was lost in his phone and Yoongi was lost in his thoughts, Jeongguk would look over, his eyes filled with a gentle understanding that Hoseok could never match. He'd offer a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the struggle that existed between them. Yoongi would look up, a spark of gratitude in his gaze, a nod of the head that said more than any words could. And in those moments, their friendship grew stronger, a bond built on shared experiences and a quiet respect.But one evening, the tension snapped. Hoseok slammed his phone down on the dinner table, his voice raw with frustration. "Why is it so easy for you with him?" he demanded, gesturing towards Jeongguk. Yoongi's hand stilled mid-air, his eyes wide with surprise. The room fell silent, the only sound the steady drip of rain outside.Yoongi took a deep breath, his heart racing. He didn't have to answer because the truth was written across his face—his ease with Jeongguk was born of shared language and understanding. But he knew Hoseok needed to hear it, to understand the depth of his pain. So, with a tremble in his hands, he signed, "Because he speaks my language."The words hung in the air, a silent shout that echoed through the room. Hoseok's face fell, the anger replaced by a stark realization. He knew then that their relationship had been lopsided, that Yoongi had made all the adjustments while he'd made none. It was a bitter pill to swallow, one that left a sour taste in his mouth. He looked down at his phone, the device that had become a crutch, and suddenly it felt like a barrier—a wall that kept him from truly knowing the person he claimed to love.He picked it up and threw it across the room, watching as it shattered against the wall. The sound was jarring, a stark reminder of the silence that had filled their conversations for years. He turned to Yoongi, his eyes pleading. "I'm sorry," he signed, his movements still clumsy but earnest. "I'll do better."Yoongi nodded, his expression unreadable. He appreciated the effort, but the damage had been done. The chasm that Hoseok had allowed to grow between them was not easily crossed by a few well-learned phrases. They continued their evening in tense silence, the rain outside seeming to mirror the emotions within.The next day at school, Yoongi found himself drawn to Jeongguk once more, seeking refuge in their shared language. They sat under the large oak tree during lunch, the rustle of leaves mimicking the gentle rhythm of their signs. Jeongguk's stories of his childhood, filled with the antics of his deaf best friend, brought smiles to Yoongi's lips and laughter to his eyes.Hoseok watched from a distance, his thumbs hovering over his phone. He felt like an outsider in his own relationship, a silent spectator to a conversation he could never truly be a part of. The ease with which they communicated, the way their hands danced in the air—it was a beautiful dance that he hadn't been invited to learn. The pang of exclusion was a sharp reminder of his own neglect, the realization that he had allowed this gap to form.He sat on the bench, the cold metal seeping through his damp clothes, and thought back to all the times Yoongi had offered to teach him, only for him to brush it off. "It's too hard," he'd said, but now the excuse felt flimsy, a paper shield against the storm of his own regret. The rain grew heavier, each drop a silent accusation, a reminder of his own failure to understand the depth of Yoongi's world.Hoseok watched as Yoongi and Jeongguk laughed together, their gestures a symphony of connection that didn't need an audience. His own attempts at signing felt like a child's scribble beside a masterpiece. The realization hit him like a physical blow—no matter how much he practiced, no matter how many classes he took, he'd never be able to share that ease, that intimacy with Yoongi. The bond they had formed was rooted in something deeper than words, something that had grown in the fertile soil of shared experience.As the rain grew heavier, so did Hoseok's heart. He knew that his love was genuine, that he would move mountains for Yoongi if he could. But love wasn't about what you could do; it was about what you were willing to do. And he had been unwilling to learn the language that would bring them closer, the language that was as much a part of Yoongi as the air he breathed.They sat in the quiet living room, the only sound the persistent patter of rain against the windows. Hoseok took a deep breath, his hands shaking as he signed, "I love you. I'm trying." His eyes searched Yoongi's, desperate for some glimmer of hope, some indication that his efforts weren't in vain.Yoongi's gaze was steady, his expression a mix of pain and resignation. He took Hoseok's hands in his, his own movements sure and strong. "I know," he signed, his eyes never leaving Hoseok's. "But it shouldn't have taken this long."The words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the truth that had been festering beneath the surface for too long. Hoseok felt his heart crack, the weight of his own inadequacy heavy on his shoulders. He knew he had failed Yoongi, that his love had been a one-sided affair, demanding without truly giving back.Yoongi's eyes searched his, a sadness in their depths that spoke volumes. They'd shared so much over the years, but the one thing Hoseok had never been able to give was true, unfiltered communication. The silence grew louder than ever, a testament to the barriers they hadn't overcome."Yoongi," Hoseok whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry."Yoongi's eyes searched his, the sadness in them unbearable. He signed back, "It's not just about the effort now."Hoseok nodded, understanding what Yoongi wasn't saying. Their love had become a tapestry with a hole in the center, a void that no amount of trying could fill. It was time to accept that some things just couldn't be forced into place, no matter how much you wanted them to be.The words hung in the air, unspoken but understood. They stood, the distance between them feeling like an unbridgeable chasm. With a heavy heart, Hoseok reached out and brushed a tear from Yoongi's cheek, his thumb lingering for a moment. "I'm sorry," he mouthed, the words silent but no less sincere.Yoongi stepped back, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He knew Hoseok meant it, but it was too late for apologies. They'd danced around this issue for too long, each step bringing them closer to the inevitable conclusion. With a final squeeze of his hand, Yoongi turned and walked away, his shoulders hunched against the weight of his decision.In the days that followed, Hoseok watched as Yoongi and Jeongguk grew closer, their conversations a silent ballet of hands and expressions. He'd catch himself feeling a pang of jealousy, but it was quickly replaced by a dull ache of loss. He understood now, the depth of the connection that came from truly understanding someone's heart without the need for spoken words. He watched them, not with resentment, but with a quiet admiration.Yoongi noticed the change in Hoseok's demeanor, the way his eyes no longer searched for validation in his every gesture. It was as if the storm had passed, leaving a clear, cold sky in its wake. They still talked, but it was through the mediator of their phones, the gap between them as wide as ever. Jeongguk, ever the peacemaker, tried to include Hoseok in their conversations, but the ease was gone.As the weeks turned into months, Yoongi found himself spending more time with Jeongguk. Their friendship grew stronger, their bond unshakable in the face of the silent conversations they shared. They'd sit for hours, their hands speaking a language that Hoseok could never truly be a part of. Yoongi felt guilty, but he couldn't deny the comfort he found in Jeongguk's company, the way his heart felt less heavy when they talked.Jeongguk, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in their dynamic. He knew the history, the pain that lurked behind Yoongi's smile. But he never pushed, never asked for more than what was offered. He was there, a constant presence, a reminder that there were people who cared enough to learn, to adapt. His patience was like the steady beat of a metronome, unwavering and reliable.Their friendship grew in the quiet moments, the spaces between the words. They'd sit side by side, Yoongi sketching while Jeongguk painted, their hands moving in silent harmony. Jeongguk would glance over, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the expression on Yoongi's face, a silent joke that didn't need translation. They'd laugh, the sound a shared secret that didn't need to be heard.He never asked for more than what Yoongi was willing to give, never pushed him to speak of his pain. Yet, his presence was a balm to the open wound of Yoongi's heart. He'd sit with him in the quiet hours of the night, their conversation a symphony of hands and gestures. Jeongguk's patience was a gentle reminder that not everyone was like Hoseok, that there were people in the world who would make the effort to understand without it being asked of them.Yoongi found solace in their shared silences, the way Jeongguk's eyes would follow his hands as he signed, a silent conversation that spoke louder than any words could. They'd sit on the couch, the TV muted, and just be. Jeongguk would listen intently to Yoongi's thoughts, his hands moving in response, a silent dance that filled the spaces between them. It was in these moments that Yoongi felt truly seen, truly heard.Their friendship grew organically, a gentle bloom in the shadow of a once vibrant romance. Jeongguk never pressed for more, never hinted at his own feelings. He was content to be the one who understood, the one who could share in Yoongi's world without the need for translation. His patience was like a warm blanket on a cold night, wrapping Yoongi in a cocoon of safety and comfort.As the seasons changed, so did their relationship. The easy smiles grew softer, the shared glances longer. Their hands touched more often, not just for communication, but for comfort. It was in the subtle brush of a thumb against a knuckle, the lingering touch of a hand on an arm. It was in the way their laughter melded together, a harmony that didn't need sound to resonate.The transition was like the slow turn of a page in a book, unnoticeable at first but undeniable when you looked back. They'd sit under the same oak tree, their conversations no longer just a silent exchange of thoughts but a shared whisper of secrets and dreams. Jeongguk's eyes would light up with understanding, a spark that grew into a flame that warmed Yoongi from the inside out.One day, as the leaves began to fall in a fiery cascade around them, Yoongi looked up from his sketchbook to find Jeongguk watching him. His hands paused mid-air, a question in his eyes. Without a word, Jeongguk leaned in, their foreheads touching. Yoongi closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of their connection. It was a moment that didn't need translation, a silent declaration of something more profound than words.Their friendship grew into something tender and undeniable, a bond that didn't need the confines of a label to flourish. They'd sit together, their legs entwined, sharing stories and dreams in a language that was theirs alone. The ease with which they communicated, the way their hands painted pictures in the air, was a testament to the depth of their understanding. It was in these moments that Yoongi realized he had been craving this all along, not just the ability to be heard, but the feeling of truly being seen by someone who didn't need him to speak to understand his soul.Their relationship evolved with the seasons, a natural progression from friendship to something more profound. They held hands while walking through the park, their fingers interlocking in silent support. They'd sit in the library, surrounded by the whispers of pages turning, and share secret smiles that spoke volumes. It was a romance that didn't need grand gestures or passionate declarations, but instead thrived on the quiet moments of shared understanding.One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Jeongguk gathered his courage. They were sitting on the porch swing, the gentle creak a soothing backdrop to their silent conversation. Yoongi's hand was nestled in his, the warmth a comforting constant. Jeongguk took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest as he prepared to voice what had been left unsaid for too long.He looked into Yoongi's eyes, the depth of his feelings reflected in the quiet pools of brown. He didn't need to speak to know what was in his heart—his hands had been telling the story for months. "I love you," he signed, his movements slow and deliberate. "More than friends."Yoongi's breath hitched, the words resonating through him like a sweet melody he'd been waiting to hear. He felt his own hands move, almost of their own accord, signing back, "I know."They sat there, the swing swaying gently, the world around them a soft blur of colors as the sun kissed the horizon. Jeongguk searched his eyes, looking for rejection or doubt, but all he found was a quiet acceptance. "Do you feel the same?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.Yoongi took a moment, his heart racing. The words had been building in him, a crescendo that had been held back for too long. He took Jeongguk's hands in his, their fingers tangling together like vines. "Yes," he signed, his eyes never leaving Jeongguk's.The air around them seemed to crackle with the intensity of their silent conversation. Hoseok, watching from the kitchen window, felt a pang of regret. He'd had his chance, had been given the key to Yoongi's world, but he'd thrown it away with his laziness and fear. He saw the way Yoongi's eyes lit up when Jeongguk signed, the ease with which they communicated. It was a stark reminder of what he had lost.He leaned against the counter, the coolness of the granite a stark contrast to the warmth of the scene outside. He couldn't be angry with them, not really. Anger was too simple, too direct. What he felt was a complex tapestry of emotions: regret, sadness, and a deep, gnawing ache that he hadn't even known existed. He'd been a spectator in his own relationship for too long, relying on others to bridge the gap he'd created.As he watched Yoongi and Jeongguk, their heads tilted towards each other in silent conversation, Hoseok knew that he had lost something irreplaceable. It wasn't just the ease of their communication, but the depth of their understanding. Jeongguk had shown up from the very beginning, armed with a willingness to learn, to adapt. And now, as the sun set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, Yoongi had chosen the person who had made the effort from the start.'
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