Chapter Text
Morning light stretched softly across the coven’s halls, casting golden warmth against the stone floors. Taehyung stirred in bed, blinking against the steady glow filtering through the curtains.
For the first time in days, there was no looming tension. No immediate threat. Just the quiet press of breath in his chest and the feeling of being alive.
Yet something in him felt off.
Not wrong. Just... restless.
His fingers twitched against the blanket, an instinctual urge curling in his muscles. It wasn’t hunger—it wasn’t even power.
It was the need to do something.
To create.
~~~~~~~~~
The coven’s kitchen was warm—not unfamiliar because it was unused, but because it wasn’t his.
The shelves were neatly lined with ingredients, but they weren’t organized the way he would’ve done it. The spice rack was alphabetized (who does that?), the baking trays stacked with unnerving precision, the air carrying that comforting scent of something always simmering.
It wasn’t just a kitchen.
It was Jin’s kitchen.
Taehyung hesitated at the entrance, taking it in.
In his café, everything had been arranged the way he liked it—ingredients in reach, things left slightly messy because that’s just how creativity works. But this place?
This was structured. Efficient. Jin-like.
It made him pause before reaching for the flour.
“Are you stalling?”
The voice came from behind him, smooth and entirely amused.
Taehyung turned, unimpressed. Jin stood with his arms crossed, watching like someone who did not trust what was about to happen.
Taehyung scoffed. “Excuse me, I ran a café. This will be perfect.”
Jin eyed the flour in his hands. “You say that now. Let’s see what you’re saying when half my kitchen is covered in disaster.”
Jungkook appeared instantly at the doorway. “Ohhh, are we getting baked goods?”
Hoseok wandered in next, already setting up music. “Wait, is this really happening?”
Jimin grabbed ingredients like he was now Taehyung’s sous chef. “Of course it is. I refuse to let Jin’s skepticism win.”
Namjoon leaned against the wall. “Are you sure about this?”
Jin didn’t answer.
But the expression on his face said no.
Taehyung finally got started, measuring ingredients while Jimin helped. Jin lingered nearby, pretending not to oversee but definitely watching closely.
Jungkook nearly stole sugar straight from the bag. Hoseok caught him. Chaos ensued.
Yoongi muttered under his breath when flour dust landed in his hair. Jungkook grinned, but he valued his life enough not to laugh out loud.
At some point, Jin actually fixed Taehyung’s miscalculated dough. ("I thought you said this would be perfect." "This is a small adjustment!")
By the time the pastries were in the oven, the kitchen was a complete mess—but it was warm. Loud. Easy in a way Taehyung hadn’t felt in a long time.
He leaned against the counter, listening to Jungkook argue about cookie texture with Jin, watching Hoseok sway to soft music, letting Jimin refill his tea before he even realized his cup was empty.
This wasn’t the café.
But it was his now, too.