Jeon Jungkook

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.
Kim didn't argue. The guy simply hid his wrist under the sleeves of his sweaters and imagined a world where people met without reason.
The Luna Cafe became his refuge. Warm light, the aroma of freshly ground coffee, quiet music. Here, no one asks about
his wrist. Here he's just Taehyung, the guy who smiles at guests and draws 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 inhabitants 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.
Network failure. A simple technical glitch. But when the lights came back on, Taehyung was standing in the middle of the cafe, having crashed into a stranger's chest. His tablet was shattered. His shirt was stained with coffee.
He looked at Kim. Dark hair, tired eyes, sharp jawline. Taehyung didn't even notice how their wrists touched.
The timer, which had been showing "99:99:99" for twenty-three long years, blinked for the first time in its life.
And it went out.
Where infinity had been, there remained a thin golden ring, wrapped around Taehyung's wrist like a thread that could not be broken.
Kim looked up at him.