Chapter 10: The Kiss
TN Perspective
Night fell on Berlin like a slow whisper, enveloping the city in an artificial calm. Back in the suite, the atmosphere felt more closed in than ever. As if the air were heavy with everything we hadn't said during the day.
I settled on the sofa with my laptop. I was reviewing some lines of the speech Suga was to give the next day, adjusting terms, fine-tuning the translation. He was in his room, but the open door revealed his silhouette moving back and forth.
He came out after a while, his brow slightly furrowed.
"Why did you change this?" he asked, pointing to a printed line. "I didn't use that word."
—I adapted it. It sounded more natural in the language —I replied calmly, without taking my eyes off the screen.
—But that's not what I said.
"Sometimes it's not about what you say, Yoongi. It's about what you want to convey. And that gets lost if I just translate word for word."
He slammed the document shut and left it on the table.
—I don't need you to interpret what I feel. I just need you to translate it.
That phrase stung me more than I expected.
—Then why did you bring me? Couldn't you have brought anyone who speaks both languages?
He didn't answer. He took a few steps, visibly annoyed. I stood up too, crossing my arms.
"I'm not your shadow, nor your personal assistant. I'm doing the best I can with what you give me. But I'm not going to apologize for trying to make you sound more human."
"More human?" he repeated, moving closer. "And who are you to know when I cease to be?"
The silence was brutal. We stared at each other. We were just inches apart. Angry. Breathing heavily. Too close.
"You know what?" I said, my voice low but firm. "I didn't come here to read your mind. I came to work. But ever since we set foot in this place, I don't know if you're fighting with me... or with yourself."
That disarmed him a little. I saw it. A subtle change in his expression. The anger was still there, but underneath it… there was something else.
He moved a little closer. There was no more room.
"You're right," he murmured. "I don't know who I'm fighting with."
And then he said it.
—I'm exhausted from trying to control everything. Including you.
There was no kiss. Not immediately. Only ragged breaths. Held glances. His hand barely brushing my cheek, as if he still hesitated.
I didn't move. I didn't push him away. Nor did I openly invite him over.
But the moment was already happening. Without words. Without explanations.
He leaned in. Slowly. Intentionally.
And this time, there was nothing that could stop him.
Her lips brushed against mine like a question. One that I answered without thinking.
It was a slow, restrained kiss, full of anger, desire, and something deeper that neither of us dared to name. When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine.
"This is going to complicate everything," he said.
—It already is —I whispered.
And I didn't regret it.