Episode 2 — Where the Light Waits

The gates opened slowly, familiar iron gliding apart as if recognizing her before anyone else could.

Aroua pressed her forehead lightly against the car window. The house looked the same—warm lights glowing behind tall windows\, the garden trimmed with care\, the quiet promise of *home* resting in every brick. Her chest tightened\, not painfully\, but in that soft way that came when something precious was finally within reach.

Jungkook noticed. He always did.

“We’re here,” he said gently, though the car had not yet stopped.

“I know,” she replied, smiling to herself.

The moment the car pulled in, the front door opened.

“Finally,” Seokjin’s voice rang out before anyone else could speak. “Do you know how long we’ve been waiting?”

Aroua barely had time to step out before she was wrapped in his arms. It was warm\, firm\, familiar—the kind of hug that said *you’re safe now* without needing words.

“I missed you,” she murmured into his shoulder.

“You better have,” he said gruffly, though his hand rested protectively on her head.

Taehyung approached next, quieter, eyes scanning her face as if checking for something only he could see. Then, without warning, he pulled her into a hug of his own.

“You look tired,” he said softly.

She laughed. “Hello to you too.”

“That *is* my hello.”

Jimin appeared at her side with a grin. “Doctor Kim Aroua, welcome back. Should we bow?”

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, poking his arm lightly.

Namjoon nodded at her, pride calm but unmistakable in his eyes. “You did well.”

Those three words settled into her like warmth spreading from the inside.

Jackson clapped Jungkook on the back. “Look who survived studying abroad.”

Jungkook laughed. “Barely. She carried me.”

“That’s a lie,” Aroua protested immediately.

“It’s not,” Hoseok chimed in brightly. “We all know she’s the responsible one.”

They moved inside together\, voices overlapping\, shoes kicked off carelessly near the entrance. The house filled with sound—laughter\, teasing\, the clink of cups as Seokjin insisted they sit and eat *something* before anything else.

“You’re thinner,” Seokjin scolded, pushing a bowl toward her.

“I ate fine,” she said.

“I don’t believe you.”

She smiled and picked up her spoon anyway.

Jungkook sat beside her, shoulder brushing hers, comfortable and natural. Jimin leaned across the table, watching her with quiet satisfaction.

“You being here fixes the atmosphere,” he said simply.

Aroua paused. “It does?”

“Yes,” Taehyung replied from the doorway, voice calm. “The house feels… aligned.”

She looked around then—at familiar faces, at the space that had held her absence patiently. Something in her chest loosened.

Later, when the night settled and conversations softened, Aroua stood near the window, watching the garden sway gently under the lights.

Jungkook joined her. “Feels real now, doesn’t it?”

She nodded. “I was afraid it wouldn’t.”