Kim Taehyung

Kim Taehyung had long since grown accustomed to the silence beneath the watch on his left wrist. Ninety-nine hours, ninety-nine minutes, ninety-nine seconds. Infinity. Error.
"Your other half died before you were born," they told him as a child.
“You’re just defective,” my classmates whispered behind my back.
Taehyung didn't argue. He simply hid his wrist under the sleeves of his sweaters, imagining a world where people met without reason.
Café Luna became his refuge. Warm light, the aroma of freshly ground coffee, soft music. Here, no one asked about his wrist. Here, he was simply Taehyung, the guy who smiled at guests and drew little hearts in the margins of receipts.
Jeon Jungkook had a negative attitude towards the rules of their world, ignoring his own "counter" on his wrist.
He knew how they worked. He himself wrote part of the code for their calibration in the Chronus Corporation labs. Each number on his wrist is simply an algorithm based on genetic compatibility, heart rate, pheromones, and so on, which the locals call "fate."
Nonsense. Jungkook never looked at his timer. He didn't care what numbers were on it. He wasn't going to let some piece of metal on his wrist decide who he shared his life with.
Their worlds collided on the evening when the lights went out in Luna.
A network failure. A common technical issue, the kind Jungkook had fixed hundreds of times. But the moment he entered the café, Taehyung was running from behind the counter, clutching a broken tablet to his chest, and he collided right into Jungkook's chest. Warm coffee from the cup he was carrying spilled onto the programmer's white shirt.
And then the light came on.
And Jungkook saw him.
Large eyes, frightened but sincere. Bangs falling across his forehead. The hand Taehyung used to try to brace himself against the stranger's chest to keep from falling.
Their wrists touched.
Taehyung's timer, which had been showing "99:99:99" for twenty-three long years, blinked for the first time in his life.
And it went out.
Where infinity had been, there remained a thin golden ring, wrapped around his wrist like a thread that could not be broken.