#deft!sans | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tainsan · 6 months

Text

destiny.

➾ synopsis: waking up in the past is a disorienting experience. what’s even worse is it seems like you’re the only person in the world who is experiencing it. so when all of a sudden, a distressed man shows up claiming he has also woken up in the past. you realise he may be the key to your way home, yet he also just so happens to be a member from your favourite kpop group, ateez.

➾ word count: 25k

➾ pairing: idol! San x non idol!reader, soulmate au (kinda)

➾ warnings: slight violence, mentions of death, fluff

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sitting regally in front of a beautifully adorned vanity, you are surrounded by your maids who are diligently preparing you for the grand banquet in the royal palace. You take a deep breath, the scent of incense and flowers filling the room, as your maids flit about you, attending to your every need. The dress you are to wear is a magnificent creation of delicate silk, adorned with intricate embroidery and adorned with gemstones that sparkle in the soft glow of the chamber's lanterns. The fabric is a rich shade of deep crimson, the colour reserved for the royal family.

You have always been fascinated by the process of dressing for such occasions. Your maids are skilled artisans, their fingers deft and nimble as they fasten your dress, adjust your ornate hairpins, and adorn you with exquisite jewellery. Your attire is a reflection of your station, a symbol of your lineage, and the embodiment of your role as a princess in the esteemed Joseon Dynasty. Yet, no matter how much you tell yourself, this is your life, you are just not able to get used to it.

Whilst your maids work, your thoughts turn inward. You can't help but feel a sense of unease, a mysterious foreboding that gnaws at your heart. Your life was so normal until you awoke to privilege and luxury, the weight of your responsibilities is never far from your mind. In this moment, with your heart fluttering like a caged bird, you need a respite from the constant attention and the constraints of the role you know you must get used to.

"Could I have a moment alone, please?" you ask your maids softly, your voice tinged with a sense of vulnerability.

The maids exchange glances but nod, their expressions filled with concern for their beloved princess. They step away, leaving you to collect your thoughts. You walk to the large window that overlooks the palace gardens, the night air whispering through the delicate curtains. The view is magnificent, with the moon casting a soft glow over the sprawling landscape. The sky, however, is what captures your attention.

Your eyes fixate on the heavens, your heart racing as you observe the unusual display above. The clouds seem to be moving in strange, swirling patterns, unlike anything you have ever witnessed. It's as if the heavens themselves are painting a picture of a world in turmoil. You shiver, feeling a strange connection to the celestial dance above, as if the heavens are trying to convey a message to you.

The events of the day have been shrouded in mystery and intrigue. Whispers of distant threats have reached your ears, and your ‘father’, the king, has been preoccupied with matters of the state. You've overheard hushed conversations in the palace corridors, and your intuition tells you that today holds more significance than a mere banquet.

As you continue to gaze out the window, your hand instinctively reaches for the silver pendant hanging from your neck, it was the only thing you had kept from your life before this one. It's a reminder of your true home, where you belong. Yet it also reminds you of how far away you are from it.

Your heart aches for a moment of clarity, a deeper understanding of the strange, foreboding feeling that clings to you. You know you can't linger too long; the banquet will soon begin, and your presence is required. But for now, you allow yourself this stolen moment, watching the enigmatic sky and silently praying for a way home and peace in the tumultuous times that lie ahead.

In the midst of your contemplation, you hear a soft, discreet knocking on the ornate wooden door that leads into your chambers.

You turn your head in the direction of the sound, and you call out, "Enter," in a voice just loud enough for the person outside to hear, careful not to disturb the serenity that surrounds you in this grand castle.

The door swings open, and in walks Lady Maid Jiyun, the only person who knows the true depths of your situation. Over the time you've been in this unfamiliar world, you've grown surprisingly close to her, even though she insists she's known you since you were a child. She closes the door behind her with a gentle, muted click, before turning towards you, her eyes cast downward in a gesture of respect.

“Jiyun,”

"Are you ready, your highness?" she questions, her tone respectful but impersonal, echoing the title that has begun to grate on your nerves. In your heart, you know you're not a princess, but a simple girl who owns a café.

"Jiyun, please, you need not talk to me like that when we are alone," you reply with a sigh of frustration. The misuse of your title feels like a constant reminder of the life you've been thrust into, and you long for your old existence.

"It is out of habit, I apologise," Jiyun says, her voice filled with sympathy and understanding. She moves closer, her demeanour less formal in the privacy of your chamber.

"I am not your princess, you know that, Jiyun," you say, your frustration palpable. The weight of the title and the expectations it carries weighs on you heavily.

Jiyun rushes to your side, her voice hushed as she hurriedly whispers, "Do not utter such words so loudly. You know what they will do if they suspect you."

You nod in reluctant agreement. "Yes, I know," you concede, your voice barely above a whisper. "They will call me an alien, throw me into a dungeon and kill me. I know."

The concept of aliens and monsters beyond human understanding has become increasingly popular in this era, with rumours circulating about strange, otherworldly creatures inhabiting the Earth. In a sense, you can relate to those suspicions, for you feel like an alien yourself. The bizarre circumstances that brought you here remain a bewildering enigma. You woke up one fateful day in this body, trapped in a world that feels like an intricate dream.

At first, you believed it to be a nightmare, a surreal experience that couldn't possibly be real. But as the days turned into weeks and then months, you came to the unsettling realisation that this was your life now.

To your amazement, you found yourself in the body of a Joseon Dynasty princess, bearing an exact resemblance to your own appearance in your real life. It was a miraculous twist of fate that allowed you to maintain a semblance of who you once were, but it did little to ease the overwhelming sensation of displacement and the constant yearning for your old life.

You've pondered on it countless times, searching for answers in the depths of your thoughts. Perhaps, you've considered, this is your past life, some inexplicable twist of fate that has sent you hurtling through time. Maybe you were cursed, or perhaps it's a mysterious test that you've yet to fully comprehend. The truth eludes you, shrouded in the uncertainty of your bewildering existence.

You wish more than anything to return to your simple life, the one where you spent your days managing your café, where anonymity was your closest friend, and the only thing you had to worry about was choosing the right blend of coffee for your customers. How you long to wake up in your own bed, in your familiar house, where everything was just as it should be. You yearn for the simple pleasures of life, the mundane joys that once filled your days. The desire to relax in front of your TV and lose yourself in captivating TV shows, or to watch endless fancams of your favourite singers, immersing yourself in their artistry. You long to indulge in the music you love, to turn up the volume on your headphones, letting the melodies envelop your senses and transport you to a world of pure enjoyment.

Those ordinary comforts, the sounds of the city, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and the warmth of your own home, are like a distant memory that you yearn to embrace once more.

“Which is why you must keep it quiet,” Jiyun says, her voice full of remorse for you. Jiyun is someone you are forever grateful for.

“Have you found anything to help me get back?”

“Unfortunately, I have yet to find anything of use. The library has many books, yet most of them are just theories.”

Despite the unsettling rumours and tales of aliens and monsters that have gripped the world, Jiyun has remained steadfast in her commitment to keeping you safe. She's been your guiding light, helping you navigate the complexities of this unfamiliar existence. She knows the challenges you face, and the gravity of her responsibility in ensuring your well-being to protect the princess.

Jiyun understands the enormity of your predicament, and she's tirelessly devoted herself to helping you find a way to make sense of this uncanny journey. Her support and guidance are the threads that keep you anchored in this tumultuous world, offering a glimmer of hope amid the chaos that surrounds you.

"Only ever theories. Perhaps we can discover something beyond what's written in books?" you suggest, searching for an elusive solution to your predicament.

"As much as I would love to inquire with others, your highness, you know my limitations in this matter," Jiyun responds, her voice tinged with regret.

You sigh, frustration gnawing at you. "Yes, I'm sorry. I'm just feeling desperate."

Jiyun moves closer, her gaze unwavering, and she bows to you with a warm smile. "We will find a way, your highness. We won't give up."

You offer a grateful smile to Jiyun, her unwavering support, a source of solace in your bewildering existence. She continues, her tone shifting to one of urgency, "Though we must get going. The banquet is to begin prominently."

With a nod, you gather your strength, determined to face the palace banquet and the demands of your role as the princess, even as you yearn for answers and a way back to the life you once knew.

Making your way to the grand banquet hall, you can't help but be awestruck by the opulence and grandeur that surrounds you. The palace's opulent architecture and intricate detailing are a testament to the wealth and power of the king and queen, your parents. Elaborate tapestries hang from the walls, depicting scenes from the dynasty's rich history, and the flickering torch light casts a warm, inviting glow over the intricate designs.

The double doors to the banquet hall swing open, and you step inside. The sight that meets your eyes is nothing short of breathtaking. The hall is a symphony of colours and textures, all bathed in a soft, golden light. Golden silk drapes adorn the walls, cascading like waterfalls of molten sunshine. The ceiling is an intricate masterpiece, a mosaic of gilded patterns and frescoes that tell the stories of the dynasty's heroes and legends.

The long, ornate banquet tables stretch out before you, covered in sumptuous silks and adorned with glistening china and golden cutlery. Each place setting is a work of art, meticulously crafted and sparkling under the ambient light. The scent of exotic, mouthwatering dishes wafts through the air, making your stomach rumble with anticipation.

The room is alive with a hum of activity as nobles and dignitaries from far and wide mingle, their lavish robes and headdresses sparkling with jewels and precious gems. The clinking of glasses and the soft murmur of conversation create a melodious background to the visual spectacle before you.

In the centre of the hall, a grand dais stands proudly, and it's upon this elevated platform that the throne awaits you, its back adorned with a shimmering tapestry depicting the dynasty's emblem. The throne itself is an ornate masterpiece, a creation of carved mahogany and gilded detailing, with plush velvet cushions in rich crimson and gold.

Stepping forward, you can't help but feel like an intruder in this world. The weight of the princess's responsibilities is almost suffocating, but you have no choice but to carry them with grace and dignity. Jiyun, your loyal confidante, is at your side, her presence a reassuring anchor in this sea of uncertainty.

The banquet hall seems to stretch on endlessly, filled with revelry and celebration. The nobles and dignitaries bow respectfully as you pass, their eyes filled with awe and respect. It's a strange dichotomy, for you are not truly the princess they believe you to be, but you play the part with grace and poise.

The table settings are a masterpiece of artistry and craftsmanship. The fine china glimmers in the soft light, reflecting the golden theme of the banquet. Each plate holds a gastronomic masterpiece, a culinary journey of exotic flavours and textures, from delicate dumplings to succulent roasted meats.

The banquet hall is filled with laughter, music, and the intoxicating scent of spices and incense. The musicians play traditional melodies on intricate instruments, filling the air with their enchanting tunes. Dancers in resplendent costumes move gracefully, their motions mirroring the flowing silk of their dresses.

Taking your place on the grand throne, next to your parents, you can't help but be overwhelmed by the majesty of it all. The banquet hall is a breathtaking display of wealth and culture, a testament to the dynasty's grandeur and history. You are a stranger in this world, but for now, you must play your part as the princess, all the while longing for answers and a way back to the life you left behind.

"Why the delay, daughter?" your father inquires in a hushed tone, his curiosity evident as he awaits your arrival.

"I apologise, Father," you respond, bowing your head as a sign of respect. "It took longer than expected to prepare."

"Have no worry, my dear," your mother chimes in from beside you, her voice filled with warmth.

Over the two months that you've spent in this strange world, you've come to realise how caring and kind the queen is. Her compassion is matched by your father's unyielding strength and determination. Together, they make a formidable team that rules their kingdom with wisdom and grace. Their subjects hold them in high regard, and the feeling is reciprocated.

The bond between your parents is evident to all who know them. Their love is the bedrock of the dynasty, and it resonates in every aspect of their rule. The kingdom flourishes under their leadership, and it's clear that they not only love their people but are deeply loved by them in return.

The grand banquet commences with a flourish of activity. The banquet hall is now abuzz with life as nobles and dignitaries from all corners of the kingdom gather, their resplendent attire creating a kaleidoscope of colours that mirrors the opulence of the event. The rich, melodic sounds of traditional instruments and the rhythmic beat of drums fill the air, setting the stage for a night of revelry.

The banquet tables are a sight to behold, adorned with golden candelabras that cast a warm, flickering light over the ornate settings. The aroma of exquisite dishes wafts through the hall, a symphony of flavours and spices that tempt the senses. Guests fill their plates with delicacies, from succulent roasted meats to fragrant rice dishes, each bite a culinary delight.

You, too, are captivated by the festivities. For a moment, your worries and the strangeness of your situation melt away. You find yourself caught up in the joy of the evening, watching as people laugh, chat, and share stories, the room alive with the clinking of glasses and the gentle hum of conversation.

The dance floor is a whirlwind of vibrant colours and graceful movement. Dancers in splendid attire twirl and spin, their footsteps matching the rhythm of the music. The dancers' costumes shimmer as they move, creating a visual spectacle that enchants all who watch.

At the head of the banquet hall, your father, the king, stands engaged in conversation with a group of merchants and nobles. He listens attentively to their concerns and disputes, displaying the unwavering resolve and wisdom that have earned him the respect of his subjects. Your mother, the queen, stands beside him, offering her insights and guidance, her caring nature a comforting presence amidst the discussions.

As you watch your parents in action, it's clear how they've earned the love and admiration of their people. The way they handle disputes and settle matters demonstrates their commitment to maintaining peace and justice within the kingdom. The hall may be filled with merriment, but their responsibilities as rulers are never far from their minds.

However, amidst the festivities and the rhythmic music, a strange feeling creeps over you. It's as if an invisible force is tugging at your senses, urging you to pay attention. Your gaze is drawn to the towering double doors that lead into the banquet hall, their grandeur a stark contrast to the vibrant revelry within.

You can't quite put your finger on it, but an unease washes over you, and you sense that something significant is about to happen. It's as if the very air in the room holds its breath, waiting for the storm that's about to descend. Your heart races, and you can't shake the feeling that those two wide doors may soon reveal a momentous event that will change the course of the evening and, perhaps, your own destiny.

"Jiyun," you call out to your trusted maid, and she appears at your side with remarkable swiftness, her head respectfully bowed.

"Yes, your majesty?" she replies, her voice filled with unwavering loyalty.

"Have you sensed it too?" you inquire, a tinge of apprehension in your voice.

"Sense what, your majesty?" Jiyun asks, her eyes focused on your every word.

"The feeling that something unexpected is about to transpire," you explain, your gaze shifting toward the grand doors as if they hold the key to the looming uncertainty.

The second you utter your words to Jiyun, a sense of foreboding hangs heavy in the air, and the atmosphere in the banquet hall takes on an eerie stillness. Before you can even finish your sentence, the grand double doors, adorned with exquisite carvings, burst open with a thunderous boom, sending the revelry to an abrupt halt.

In a chaotic rush, two guards burst into the hall, struggling to restrain a shirtless man who seems to be writhing and resisting their grasp. The unexpected intrusion sends ripples of shock through the assembled nobles and dignitaries. The musicians abruptly silence their instruments, and the dancers come to a standstill, their expressions a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

The king and the queen, who had been engaged in discussions with the merchants, rose swiftly from their thrones. Their expressions shift from surprise to stern authority as they take in the unfolding scene.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" the king bellows, his voice carrying the weight of his authority. His words echo throughout the grand hall, quelling the previous merriment with an air of solemnity. The sudden silence is broken only by the shuffling of feet as the guards continue to drag the shirtless man toward the thrones, his struggles growing more frenzied. It appears as if the man has tattoos adorned all over his body and for some reason you cannot help but have an awful feeling of recognition as you peer at him.

The queen stands regally at the king's side, her countenance reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. The courtiers in attendance exchange hushed whispers, speculating on the nature of the commotion, while a palpable tension fills the room.

The shirtless man's writhing and protests become more desperate, and his incoherent mutterings are barely discernible over the hushed murmurs of the crowd. The guards eventually manage to bring him to a halt, though his wild, dishevelled appearance remains a stark contrast to the opulence of the banquet hall. Throughout all of this, his head remains bowed, nobody able to see his face.

The man is positioned before the thrones, on his knees, the king's piercing gaze fixates on him, his face an impenetrable mask of authority and curiosity. The queen, her hand resting lightly on the arm of the throne, watches with an unwavering presence. The courtiers wait with bated breath, their eyes darting between the king, the queen, and the dishevelled intruder, uncertain of what will transpire next in this unexpected turn of events.

The dishevelled intruder, who had been forcibly brought before the king, stands silent and disoriented as the guards explain their discovery.

“We found him outside the palace, lurking and behaving suspiciously, which prompted our cautious approach.” The guard's voices are tense as they speak, “this man, in his moments of distress, declared that is from a different time, claiming he does not belong here.”

The king and queen share nervous glances before peering back at the guards who are cautiously watching over the man.

“Your highnesses, I fear that he is an alien.”

The hushed shock that washes over the assembly is palpable. Whispers of fear and disbelief ripple through the room like an unsettling breeze. The nobles and courtiers exchange uneasy glances, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

The king, his brows furrowed in contemplation, leans forward on his throne, his eyes fixed on the man before him. The queen stands beside him, her poise unwavering as she assesses the unfolding situation.

The courtiers remain silent, awaiting the king's judgement.

In the midst of the whispers and speculation, the king calls upon the disoriented intruder, “lift your head boy, make your presence known.”

The man obeys, and as he raises his eyes to meet the king's gaze, a collective gasp sweeps through the room.

Your heart stops in your chest and you cannot believe your eyes.

The man who stands before you bears a striking resemblance to San from Ateez, the boy group you fervently fangirled over in your previous world. His appearance, his features, the way he holds himself, all are uncannily reminiscent of your idol.

His eyes scan the bewildering faces of the courtiers, and it's evident that he's utterly lost and bewildered in this foreign world. His expression reflects a deep sense of longing, as if he's desperately searching for a familiar face or a comforting presence.

"What is your name, young man?" the queen questions, her voice carrying a tone of cautious empathy. It's clear that she feels a sense of compassion for the disoriented intruder, even as the mystery of his presence looms.

"Choi San," he responds, his voice tinged with a mixture of fear and confusion.

The moment those two simple words leave his lips, a wave of emotion crashes over you. It's not just the sight of an idol you adore, but the realisation that he, too, has been uprooted from his world and thrust into this unfamiliar one, much like yourself. The overwhelming weight of this revelation washes over you.

“He doesn't look like an alien.” the king says, his eyes scanning San diligently.

“I’m not, I swear. I have no idea where I am. I woke up and I was in this random forest surrounded by people I have never seen before.”

"Show respect to your king and queen," the guard to Choi San's left commands, his voice stern and unyielding. With a swift motion, he strikes San's back, causing him to stumble forward and crash onto the polished floor. San's palms catch his fall just in the nick of time, and you can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. The image of his fall, the vulnerability of the idol you used to admire, stirs a mixture of emotions within you.

The desire to rush down there, to offer comfort and understanding, wells up within you. You long to convey to him that you share the same strange predicament, that you, too, have been thrust into this unfamiliar world. But you understand the delicate balance that hangs in the air, the potential for suspicion and chaos that could arise if your secret were to be revealed.

The room watches in tense silence as San struggles to regain his composure. He rises to his feet, a mixture of embarrassment and confusion etched on his face. His eyes dart around the room, searching for some semblance of familiarity, some connection to the world he once knew.

You can't help but notice the vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding and assistance. Your heart aches for him, knowing that you share this extraordinary journey and the burden of its mysteries. But for now, you remain on your elevated throne, concealing your true identity and the emotional turmoil that brews beneath the surface, for the sake of the kingdom, the king, and the queen who have so graciously extended their protection and hospitality to you.

The air in the grand banquet hall crackles with tension, as everyone grapples with the enigma of the stranger who claims to be from a different time, a supposed alien who defies all reason and explanation. The room remains suspended in a moment of uncertainty, and the world as you know it seems to hang in the balance, poised on the brink of an extraordinary revelation.

You exchange a swift, knowing glance with Jiyun, her eyes are filled with concern, mirroring the emotions that churn within you.

“Show him to the dungeon, tomorrow he will be sent back to where he belongs.” The king bellows, his voice stern as your eyes narrow in fear.

In a fleeting moment, San's eyes lock with yours, and your heart leaps in your chest. The intensity of that brief connection sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't restrain the tears that well up in your eyes as you witness the guard seizing him and forcibly dragging him away from the grand hall.

A sense of dread envelops you, and the heaviness in your chest becomes suffocating. You share a wordless glance with Jiyun, who is already formulating a plan to aid San. Her gaze meets yours, and she nods gently, a silent assurance that she is committed to helping him. With that unspoken understanding, the weight that had burdened your heart begins to lift, replaced by a glimmer of hope that you may be able to make a difference in this unexpected turn of events.

With a deep breath, you compose yourself as the king commands the musicians to resume their melodies. The haunting, suspended atmosphere in the room gradually gives way to the spirited tunes of the instruments, infusing the space with renewed vitality. The mood in the grand banquet hall begins to shift, and the weight of the unexpected intrusion is momentarily eased by the enchanting melodies that fill the air.

The grand palace lies hushed and dark, save for the soft, flickering glow of the torches that line the hallways. It's the deep of night, the hour when even the most vigilant souls have succumbed to slumber. The world outside your window is cloaked in darkness, with only a few distant stars punctuating the sky.

In the seclusion of your chamber, you pace restlessly, the pattern of your footsteps a silent testament to your growing anxiety. The ornate furnishings and intricate tapestries seem to close in around you, their grandeur and opulence providing little comfort. You can't stop your heart from racing in your chest, its frenetic rhythm echoing the turmoil of your thoughts.

You cast occasional glances at the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the first pale light of dawn, a harbinger of the world's awakening. Your hope lies in the arrival of Jiyun, who promised to fetch something that might provide a connection between you and San, the ‘stranger’ who shares your extraordinary predicament.

Minutes stretch into hours as you wait in solitude, each moment feeling like an eternity. The silence in the palace is profound, the hush of night amplifying every creak of the floor and rustle of the curtains. You can almost hear the beating of your own heart, a relentless reminder of your desperate circumstances.

As the night wears on, you recall the mysterious events that unfolded during the banquet. The revelation of San's presence, the shared bond of otherworldly displacement, and the unspoken promise of hope—all weigh heavily on your mind. You can't help but wonder if there's a connection between the two of you that defies all logic, a connection that Jiyun might be able to unearth.

The anticipation gnaws at you, the longing for answers and a sense of purpose driving you to pace even faster. You're acutely aware of the significance of the cloth Jiyun is meant to bring, and the potential it holds to unveil the truth of your peculiar journey.

With each passing moment, your anxiety intensifies, and the minutes tick away, carrying with them the uncertainty of your fate. You can only hope that the arrival of dawn will herald the arrival of Jiyun and, perhaps, the answers you so desperately seek.

As you continue to pace around your room, the waiting becomes almost unbearable. The faintest light begins to seep through the edges of your window, heralding the impending dawn. Just when your hope is beginning to wane, a soft knock at the door breaks the silence.

You rush to the door and swing it open to reveal Jiyun, her face etched with determination. In her hands, she holds a folded piece of cloth and a small bottle containing a mysterious liquid. She steps inside your chamber, and you close the door behind her.

"The plan is ready," Jiyun says, her voice a hushed whisper. "I've brought the cloth and this," she adds, indicating the small bottle. "The liquid inside will temporarily incapacitate the guard who protects the dungeon. It should give you enough time to get the man out of there."

Relief washes over you as you take the cloth and the bottle from Jiyun. The weight of your purpose now feels tangible, as if a glimmer of hope has emerged from the depths of the night.

You listen intently as Jiyun outlines the plan, the details falling into place like pieces of a puzzle. Your heart pounds in your chest, but there is a newfound determination within you. The connection you feel with San, the shared journey you both unknowingly embarked upon, has given you a sense of purpose that propels you forward.

Jiyun hands you a bag filled with essential supplies. Her voice is steady but laced with concern as she explains the plan. "I can provide for you for three days, maybe four at most, without raising suspicion. Within that time, either you or the true princess must return."

You contemplate the necessity of your absence and inquire, "What reason will you give for my absence?"

Jiyun's eyes convey a deep sense of loyalty as she replies, "I will inform them that you've contracted a highly contagious sickness that has left you bedridden and wanting to see no one."

You nod, absorbing the gravity of the situation. Gratitude wells up within you as you look at Jiyun, her gentle smile a source of reassurance. "Thank you, Jiyun. I realise the danger you're putting yourself in for my sake. Your sacrifice does not go unnoticed, and I am profoundly grateful for your unwavering support."

“You would do the same for me, I’m sure.”

With the bag of supplies and Jiyun's invaluable guidance in mind, you make your way through the palace's labyrinthine corridors and hidden passages. The palace, under the cover of night, seems to take on a different character—a mysterious, almost haunting quality. Torches line the narrow passageways, casting long, flickering shadows on the ancient stone walls as you move stealthily through the dark.

The secrets of these passages, entrusted to you by Jiyun, are your lifeline in this mission. You navigate the intricate network with practised ease, ensuring that your movements are discreet, and your presence remains shrouded in the veil of night.

Finally, you reach the entrance to the dungeon, your heart pounding in your chest. Peeking around the corner, you spot the guard responsible for its protection, pacing up and down before the heavy wooden door. The flickering torchlight casts eerie shadows across his face, and the faint echoes of his footsteps reverberate through the corridor.

With impeccable timing, you wait for the moment when the guard turns his back to you, his attention momentarily diverted. Swiftly, you uncap the small bottle and pour its contents onto the cloth, making sure to keep your own hands clear of the liquid. The chemical scent is pungent, and you struggle to suppress a cough as you press the cloth to your mouth to avoid inhaling it.

As the guard's boots echo down the corridor away from you, you seize the opportunity. Soundlessly, you move closer to him, each step taken with the utmost care. With one hand gripping the cloth and the other steadying your movements, you approach him from behind.

When the guard looks away, his focus on the dimly lit passage beyond, you seize your chance. The cloth is pressed firmly against his mouth, and you brace for a moment of hesitation, uncertain of the outcome. The seconds stretch into eternity, but eventually, the guard's struggles wane, and his eyelids droop heavily.

He crumples to the stone floor, unconscious, his keys jangling as they hang from his belt. You offer a silent apology to the fallen guard before deftly retrieving the keys. With trembling hands, you unlock the heavy door to the dungeon, the creaking hinges echoing through the silence of the underground chamber.

The dungeon lies before you, a foreboding abyss. The uncertainty of what awaits within gnaws at you, but your determination is unwavering. The answers that may await you drive you forward as you step into the darkness of the dungeon, the flickering torchlight casting long, wavering shadows on the stone walls.

As you step into the dimly lit dungeon, you carry a candle torch to guide your way through the labyrinthine corridors. The passageway is narrow and oppressive, the cold stone walls seemingly bearing witness to the suffering of countless souls who have languished within its confines.

The cries and wails of the imprisoned echo off the damp stone, reaching your ears with haunting intensity. Desperate pleas for help, mournful laments, and the sound of hands beating against iron bars form a dissonant chorus that seems to reverberate through the very walls themselves.

Each cell you pass houses a new tragedy, a new story of despair, and it takes all your strength to press on, to bear witness to the suffering around you. As you move deeper into the dungeon, the cries of the prisoners grow louder, more heart-wrenching, and your heart aches with empathy for their plight.

But as you reach the very end of the corridor, a silence that is almost palpable falls upon you. It is a silence that is too profound, too ominous, and your heart clenches within your chest as you peer into the last cell. The flickering candlelight reveals a scene that fills you with dread.

There, in the corner of the cell, you find San, curled up in a small, trembling ball. His face is etched with exhaustion and fear, his eyes wide with a mix of confusion and despair. The harsh, cold stones of the dungeon floor serve as his only comfort in this nightmarish world.

You approach the cell, your steps careful and measured, your candle torch casting eerie, flickering shadows on the walls. As you draw closer, you can see the anguish etched into San's features, his ragged clothing and unkempt appearance a testament to the trials he has endured in this unforgiving place.

Your heart goes out to him, the connection you share with this stranger deepening with each passing moment. The dungeon, with its heavy atmosphere and its occupants' mournful cries, bears witness to the suffering of many, but it is San's vulnerability and isolation that capture your attention.

"San," you whisper, your voice a soft, comforting presence in the dimly lit cell. He turns toward you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, a reflection of the pain and fear that have plagued him.

"Please don't hurt me," his trembling words break your heart, and you struggle to hold back your own tears as you witness his vulnerability.

With gentle assurance, you reply, "I'm not here to hurt you, I promise." Your words are a lifeline, a beacon of hope for the scared and confused young man before you. With the keys in hand, you unlock the cell door and step inside.

San's eyes search your face, filled with a mix of disbelief and curiosity as you offer him some food from your bag. He hesitates before accepting, his trust gradually building as he takes the sustenance you provide.

"Why are you here then? You're the princess, aren't you?" San questions, his voice quivering with uncertainty.

With a deep breath, you choose your words carefully, wanting to ease his fears. "This might sound crazy, but I think we're from the same world."

San's eyes widen in astonishment, his disbelief slowly giving way to hope as he watches you closely. He lifts himself onto his knees to be closer to your level, the shadows of the cell casting eerie patterns on the walls.

"Really? How do you know?" San asks, his voice filled with a glimmer of expectation.

You offer a reassuring smile and pose a question that will connect your two worlds. "Well, I know you're San, Choi San from Ateez, right?"

San's eyes glisten with tears of relief, his voice quivering with emotion as he confirms, "Yes, yes, yes. I am. I'm from Ateez, and it's 2023, not the 1300s." The weight that had burdened his heart is lifted, and the possibility of a return to the world he knows is within his reach. He continues, “what is happening? How did we end up here?”

“I’ll explain as we walk, we need to get out of here.”

San's confusion lingers, but the glimmer of hope in his eyes grows stronger as he stands up. With a sense of newfound determination, the two of you make your way out of the cell, leaving the door unlocked behind you. As you exit the dungeon, you can't help but glance back, knowing that you've left behind the shadows of suffering that still haunt its depths.

Together, you navigate the secret passages that brought you to the dungeon, retracing your steps with the candle torch guiding your way. The path is familiar to you now, and with San by your side, it feels like the journey is filled with a sense of purpose and unity.

The passageway eventually leads you to the royal stables, a place of shadows and echoes, where the silence of the night surrounds you. Jiyun's foresight is evident as you find a horse tethered and ready for your departure. It's a magnificent creature, a steed fit for a princess, and its presence is a testament to Jiyun's unwavering support.

You help San mount the horse, his grip on the reins steady but cautious. The animal is surprisingly calm and cooperative, as if it senses the urgency of your mission. With San in the saddle, you mount your own horse, and together, you prepare to ride into the night.

Making your way out of the royal stables, the world outside awaits you, shrouded in darkness. The streets of the ancient city are quiet, its occupants fast asleep, unaware of the extraordinary events that are unfolding within the palace walls.

The night air is cool and refreshing, and the rhythmic sound of hooves hitting the cobblestone streets resonates through the quiet city. You ride with determination, guiding your horses through the labyrinthine streets, following the route that Jiyun has carefully planned.

With each passing moment, you draw closer to the edge of the city, your breath visible in the cold night air. The feeling of freedom, of escaping the palace and its secrets, surges through you. You and San are bound by an unspoken connection, a shared journey that defies time and place.

The town's lights grow distant, you can't help but steal a glance at San, who rides beside you. His face, once etched with fear and confusion, now carries a glimmer of hope. In the silence of the night, the world holds its breath, and the weight of the unknown future rests on your shoulders.

Together, you ride toward the horizon, leaving behind the palace and the secrets that shroud your extraordinary journey. The path ahead is uncertain, but the possibilities are boundless, and in the darkness of the night, you find a shared purpose that unites your fates in this unfamiliar world.

You and San ride through the night, the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the cobblestone streets gradually fading into the distance. The ancient city of the palace is left behind, its towering walls and mysteries hidden in the darkness.

The first light of dawn tints the horizon and you continue on your journey, venturing into the unknown.

Hours pass, and you ride together, the bond of your shared experience growing stronger with each mile that falls behind you. The quietude of the countryside surrounds you, the only sounds are the rustling of leaves and the gentle song of birds in the distance. San wishes to ask questions, he has thousands on his mind, yet he stays silent as the two of you continue your journey.

Finally, on the horizon, a small town comes into view. Its quaint cottages and bustling marketplaces offer a glimpse of civilization in the midst of the open countryside. With each step you take, you hope to find reassurance and a glimmer of hope in this unfamiliar place.

You and San guide your horses toward the town, a sense of anticipation filling your hearts. The town represents a new beginning, a place where your shared journey can find some direction, where answers may await you, and where the extraordinary circumstances that have brought you together may start to make sense.

Approaching the town's outskirts, the warmth of the rising sun casts a golden glow on the streets and rooftops, and the townsfolk go about their daily routines, unaware of the two strangers who have arrived on horseback.

Among the quaint buildings, you spot a charming cottage with a wooden sign hanging above the door, which reads "The Golden Horseshoe Inn." The inviting aroma of freshly baked bread wafts through the open windows, and the cheerful hum of conversation emanates from within.

You dismount from your horses and tether them to a nearby post before entering the inn. The interior is cosy and warm, with wooden beams and rustic furnishings. A fireplace crackles in the corner, casting a gentle, flickering light that dances across the room. A friendly innkeeper stands behind the bar, wiping down mugs and chatting with a group of locals.

Approaching the innkeeper, you offer a polite smile and address them. "Good morning. My friend and I are in need of a place to stay. Do you have any rooms available?"

The innkeeper returns your smile with a warm one of their own and nods. "How long will you be staying?"

You exchange a quick glance with San before answering. "We're not entirely sure. Perhaps a few days to start with."

The innkeeper retrieves a key from a nearby rack and hands it to you. "Very well. We have a couple of rooms upstairs. You can choose the one you prefer."

You thank the innkeeper and head upstairs with San, the creaking wooden steps leading you to a hallway lined with doors. The rooms are simple but comfortable, each furnished with a bed, a small writing desk, and a window that overlooks the bustling street below.

After inspecting a couple of rooms, you settle on one with a cosy, inviting atmosphere. You take out some coins and return downstairs to pay for the room. The innkeeper accepts your payment with a friendly smile, and you can't help but feel a sense of relief at having found a safe haven in this new world.

With the key to your room in hand, you make your way back upstairs with San.

The moment you are in the room, you hand San some more comfortable clothes than the rags he is currently wearing.

“I forgot to give you these earlier, I’m sorry. Go change, I’ll wait outside.”

"Thank you…" San trails off, his voice tinged with gratitude but hesitating as he doesn't know your name.

You offer a warm smile and reply with your name. San's eyes light up as he hears your name, and he nods in appreciation. With that, you exit the room, leaving him some privacy to get ready.

While San prepares for the day, you make your way downstairs to the inn's tavern, which is located beneath the lodging area. The scent of fresh bread and brewed coffee fills the air, creating a cosy and welcoming ambiance. You take a seat at a wooden table and glance around the room, observing the locals who are starting their day with hearty breakfasts and lively conversation.

You place an order for two breakfasts, ensuring that San will have a warm meal to start the day. As you wait for the food to arrive, you reflect on the journey that has brought you to this new world and the newfound bond you share with San. The townsfolk, too, go about their daily routines, their world untouched by the extraordinary circumstances that have reshaped your lives.

Sitting at the wooden table in the cosy tavern beneath the inn, your gaze is drawn to the staircase that leads down from the upper rooms. Moments later, you watch as San descends the stairs, his steps graceful and fluid.

Even in the plain, old clothes he now wears, there's an undeniable magnetism about him. His raven-black hair framing his face, his features are striking, and his presence exudes a certain charisma that you recognize immediately. It's as if he possesses a natural star quality, a glow that transcends time and place.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you observe him. The way he moves, the confidence in his steps, and the undeniable aura that surrounds him—these are the very qualities that made him an idol in your world. As he reaches the bottom of the stairs and meets your gaze, you exchange a knowing look.

It becomes clear to you that the essence of who San is goes beyond his role as a performer. His appeal, his talent, and his undeniable charm are deeply rooted in his very being. You appreciate that there's more to him than meets the eye, and the unique connection you share in this extraordinary journey only deepens your admiration for the person who is not just an idol but also a fellow traveller in this unfamiliar world.

San takes a seat in front of you at the wooden table, his eyes filled with gratitude as he speaks quietly, "Thank you so much for the help."

"Of course," you reply with a warm smile, appreciating the opportunity to assist someone in this unfamiliar world.

Curiosity sparks in San's eyes as he leans in slightly, his interest piqued. "So how did you know it was me, from Ateez?"

You consider the question for a moment before deciding to reveal the truth. "Well, in our world..." you begin, hesitating for a brief moment.

San's eyes widen with surprise, and he leans in closer, eager to hear more. "What is it?"

You lower your voice, as if sharing a secret. "I may or may not be an Atiny, and I recognized you right away."

A smile spreads across San's face, and a sense of camaraderie fills the air as you both share this unexpected connection. In this extraordinary world and situation, your shared love for Ateez transcends time and place, and you find comfort in the bond that links you together.

"Seriously?" San's eyes widen with a mix of surprise and disbelief.

You nod, your voice earnest as you reply, "Yes, why would I lie about it?"

San chuckles softly, still trying to process the information. "I don't know, that's actually insane, though."

You can't help but smile at his reaction. "I guess so."

San's curiosity shifts to a topic that seems of utmost importance to him. "Who is your bias?"

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your face. "Is that really what's important right now?"

San's eyes widen, his tone as serious as if discussing a crucial matter. "Yes, very important."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you respond, "It's a secret."

San grumbles and rolls his eyes, his familiar antics making you giggle. It's reassuring to see that, despite the extraordinary circumstances, he remains somewhat himself from the world you both know.

After taking a bite of his bread, San shifts the conversation, his expression curious. "What do you do? You know, in our world."

You offer a genuine smile as you share your passion. "Oh, I run a cafe in Seoul."

San's face lights up with enthusiasm. "That's so nice! Where is it?"

"It's actually really close to the KQ building, next to the flower shop."

San's eyes widen in realisation. "Wait, really? That's very close. I'll stop by there when we get out."

A bittersweet smile crosses your face as you admit, "If it's still in business."

San's concern deepens as he probes further. "What do you mean?"

You meet his gaze and explain, "Business was really slow when I was there. I've been gone for a few months now, so I doubt it'll still be open."

San's expression turns serious as he processes your words. "Wait a second... a few months?" The realisation dawns on him, and he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and understanding, as the magnitude of your situation sinks in.

“Yeah, I haven’t had the chance to get out due to being a princess,” you look up at San, your eyes grateful as you look at him, “which is why it’s so great you are here. It feels like I have a chance to get home.”

San smiles at you, sympathy and understanding in his eyes as he realises how long you've been trapped in this world. But then, a spark of curiosity ignites in his gaze.

"So, what was the last thing you remember before getting here?" San inquires, his voice filled with intrigue.

You furrow your brow, the memories of that moment still vivid. "I was working in the cafe, and all of a sudden, it just went black. When I woke up, I was in the palace."

San nods in recognition, a shared experience that links your worlds. "Me too," he admits, "I was practising for our comeback. It suddenly went black, and I heard Hongjoong yelling my name. But when I woke up, I was in the forest, wearing the same clothes I had in my 'Warriors' music video."

Your curiosity piques as you catch a detail you hadn't expected. "Wait a second. What music video?"

San's eyes widen with enthusiasm as he realises that you've been out of touch with their latest work. "Oh, you haven't seen it because you've been here!" he exclaims. "I did a dance cover, and that's why I have these tattoos."

You chuckle at his response. "I was wondering if you had gotten so many tattoos in two months."

San laughs, appreciating your humour. "It was just part of the concept. We filmed it in front of the Gyeongbokgung Palace."

San's words strike you like a bolt of lightning, and you find yourself needing to clarify the astonishing coincidence.

"What did you just say?" you inquire, your voice tinged with amazement.

San blinks, seemingly unaware of the profound revelation that's unfolding. "What?"

You lean in closer, your eyes searching his face for any sign of recognition. "Gyeongbokgung. I went there a few months ago, a week before I appeared here. How long has it been since you've been there?"

San's eyes widen in realisation as the pieces of the puzzle start to align. "Uh, well, it was filmed on Wednesday, so... a week ago. Wait."

The implications of your shared experiences weigh heavy on your minds. The timing and location seem more than just a coincidence. It's as if a bridge between two worlds has been formed, connecting the moments you both mysteriously entered this unfamiliar reality.

"You went there a week ago yesterday?" you inquire, your mind racing as the pieces of the puzzle align.

San's eyes light up with realisation as he nods eagerly. "Then it must be something related to Gyeongbokgung!"

The shared excitement between you and San is palpable as you uncover this incredible connection. Gyeongbokgung, the place where you both last remember being in your respective worlds before finding yourselves in this strange new reality, is the common link that binds your experiences.

"We should go there now," you suggest, a sense of urgency in your voice. "It should be here around this time, maybe we can find something to help us."

San nods enthusiastically, his focus now on finishing his meal as quickly as possible. He stuffs down his food, eager to expedite your departure.

Once his mouth is free of food, San inquires, "Do you have a map?"

"Ah, yes," you reply, reaching into your bag to retrieve the map that Jiyun had thoughtfully packed for your journey. Carefully, you unspread the map on the wooden table.

"Okay, so we should be here right now," you say, tracing your location with a finger, "then Gyeongbokgung will be…"

San's eyes follow your finger as he points towards the parchment, spotting the small letters displaying 'palace.' "I see it."

You calculate the distance and the remaining daylight. "If we leave now, we can make it before sundown."

San's determination matches yours as he eagerly exclaims, "Then what are we waiting for?"

With your destination set and a shared purpose driving you forward, you and San finish your meal, gather your belongings, and prepare to embark on a journey that may hold the key to unravelling the mysteries of your extraordinary situation. The tavern, once filled with chatter and the clinking of mugs, now watches you both as you stand, ready to venture into the unknown in search of answers.

You and San make your way to the stable where your horses were kept. The sun is still high in the sky, and a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the nearby trees. As you approach the stable, the familiar scent of hay and leather fills the air.

However, as you step into the stable, a sense of unease washes over you. One of the stalls is empty, and you immediately notice that your horse is missing. Panic begins to rise within you.

San senses your distress and looks around, his expression mirroring your concern. "Where's your horse?"

You hurry over to the stable keeper, who is tending to the remaining horses. "Excuse me," you say, trying to keep your voice steady, "my horse is missing. Do you know what happened?"

The stable keeper wipes his hands on a cloth and turns to face you. "I'm so sorry, miss. When I went to get their food, your horse got spooked and ran off into the woods. I tried to catch it, but it was too fast."

Your heart sinks at the news, and you exchange a worried glance with San. Losing a horse is a significant setback, and you'll need to find a solution to continue your journey.

San speaks up, "Is there any way we can track it or find it?"

The stable keeper scratches his head, deep in thought. "There are some villagers who know the woods well and might be able to help. But it could take some time."

With no other options, you share a glance with San.

“We can share mine, we have no time to look for it,” San offers and you let out a sharp exhale.

“Okay…”

The stable keeper helps you prepare the horse, ensuring that the saddle and reins are secure. It's not ideal, but you don't have much choice if you want to reach Gyeongbokgung Palace before sundown.

San climbs onto the horse, offering you a hand to help you up in front of him. Settling into the saddle, you can't help but feel the warmth of his presence close behind you. The two of you share a glance, and you notice his red cheeks.

San's concern for your comfort is evident, and he expresses it as you both share the horse. His apology for the close proximity reflects his consideration for your feelings.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice filled with genuine regret. "I didn't expect us to be so close. I can move back a little if you want. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

You offer a reassuring smile, eager to put his worries to rest. "It's okay, San. Let's just get to the palace."

Beginning to lead the horse in the direction of Gyeongbokgung Palace, San shifts his position on the saddle, inadvertently causing him to bump forward and press his chest against your back. A rush of warmth fills your cheeks, but you do your best to stay composed.

"I'm so sorry," San says, his face turning a shade of crimson. His embarrassment is evident, and you find his reaction endearing.

You guide the horse along the path, focusing on your destination, when San inquires, "Where should I put my hands?"

Your heart flutters at the question, and you're grateful that you’re facing forward so he doesn't see your flustered expression.

"Just wrap your arms around my waist," you reply. "I don't mind, really."

San hesitates, his concern still evident. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."

You smile at his thoughtfulness but gently urge him, "San, please, just hurry up. We need to reach the palace before nightfall."

San follows your instructions and wraps his arms securely around your waist. His touch is gentle, yet you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. It causes you to momentarily lose focus, the surreal nature of the situation overwhelming your thoughts. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined being in this position with one of your favourite idols.

San's chest presses against your back, and you can sense the beating of his heart, echoing the rapid rhythm of your own. Both of you are embroiled in this unique experience, and you remain unaware of the thoughts racing through San's mind.

For San, the situation is equally unprecedented. His face is flushed with a bright shade of red, and he holds onto you with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. The proximity between the two of you, the shared adventure, and the bond that's forming in this extraordinary world are causing his heart to open up in ways he couldn't have anticipated.

With each moment that passes, your connection deepens, and you become a source of support and comfort for each other in this unfamiliar and often challenging world. It's a journey that neither of you could have predicted, but as you ride together, you find solace in the warmth of each other's presence.

Continuing your journey together, San's voice takes on a low, intimate tone. It's as if he wants to keep the conversation between the two of you, sharing this moment in the midst of your unusual adventure. His breath tickles your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

"Tell me about yourself," he asks, his voice gentle and curious.

You find his proximity comforting and decide to share a piece of your past with him. "What do you want to know?"

San listens attentively, his breath soft against your ear. "What was your favourite part of running the cafe?"

You smile at the memory, feeling a sense of nostalgia for your old life. "I think my favourite part was seeing people come in, enjoying their coffee or a meal, and leaving with a smile. It was like creating a little oasis where people could take a break from their busy lives."

“That’s nice.” San's warm presence and the intimate conversation create a sense of connection that transcends the boundaries of time and place. You find yourself opening up to him, sharing stories from your past and learning more about his own experiences.

"I have an important question," San suddenly says, his tone becoming playful as he awaits your response.

You raise an eyebrow, mirroring his playful tone, "And what would that be, San?"

A mischievous glint dances in San's eyes as he asks, "What's your favourite Ateez song?"

You chuckle gently at his question. "I'm being serious!"

San's playful demeanour and the imagined pout in his voice make you smile. You can almost picture the look he's giving you, having seen countless videos of him making that expression.

"Okay, okay," you reply, "that's a tough question. I tend to like the b-sides more, to be honest."

San encourages you to share more, his curiosity piqued. You reflect for a moment before answering, "Turbulence and Mist have a special place in my heart."

"Really?" San's voice carries a warm and intriguing tone. "Why is that?"

You pause, considering your response. "Well, I was going through a really tough time a while ago. I don't know, these songs just feel like a warm hug. Like someone is there for me."

San listens intently to your words, his heart swelling with compassion and understanding. "I'm glad we could be there for you during that difficult time."

“Thank you,”

San's eyes soften, and his voice takes on a soothing tone as he responds, "You don't have to thank us. Music has a way of reaching people when they need it most, and it's an honour to know that our songs could be there for you during those difficult times."

Tears well up in your eyes as you remember the moments when you turned to music as your solace. You've found comfort and strength in the melodies and lyrics that resonated with your emotions. It's a powerful connection that transcends time and place, and it's something you and San now share.

Drawing closer to your destination, the palace towers in the distance become more prominent, the air is filled with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity. The scenery around you is both breathtaking and mysterious, mirroring the unique connection that has grown between you.

San glances over at you, his curiosity getting the best of him. "Can I ask you something?"

You meet his gaze and offer a warm smile. "Of course."

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he finally asks, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

The question catches you slightly off guard, but you answer honestly, "No, I don't have a boyfriend."

San raises an eyebrow, and a playful smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I didn't expect that."

You chuckle at his response. "What do you mean by that?"

San's gaze softens, and he offers a sincere explanation. "Well, you're really kind, caring, and incredibly determined. Not to mention, you are very beautiful, I guess I thought someone like you would already have someone special in their life."

A heat creeps up on your cheeks as you feel a flutter in your heart. San's compliments catch you by surprise, and you find yourself at a loss for words for a moment. Burying your face in your hands to hide your flustered expression, San watches you with a fond expression.

You smile and say, "Thank you, San. You're pretty amazing yourself."

Hesitating for a moment, unsure if you should say this, you decide to speak. "I have a husband, though."

San's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "What do you mean? I thought you were single?"

You can't help but grin mischievously before you clarify, "His name is Mingi."

San's incredulous expression is almost comical. "Your bias is Mingi?"

You nod with a playful glint in your eye. "Yes. Why is that such a bad thing?"

San can't help but laugh, "It's not, Mingi is amazing, but come on? I'm here right now. I should be your bias."

You raise an eyebrow, teasing him further, "You have to earn it."

San scoffs before retorting, “what, did Mingi body roll his way into your bias spot?”

“Precisely.”

San leans in closer, a playful glint in his eye. "And what about my cyberpunk performance?"

You contemplate for a moment, then acknowledge with a nod, "Ooh, nice. I have to admit. But Mingi in bouncy was a whole snack."

San pretends to be offended, teasing you back, "What, are you a pervert?"

You protest, "No, you started it!" However, San’s laughter at your reaction causes a wide smile to grow on your face.

San's thoughts drift in the midst of the journey towards Gyeongbokgung Palace, he finds himself mesmerised not only by your unique personality but also by your captivating beauty. He can't help but be struck by the allure of your presence and the way the soft light of the setting sun enhances your features, making you glow in an almost ethereal manner.

To him, you are not just intriguing and kind, but you're also incredibly beautiful, inside and out. Your allure has a magnetic quality that pulls him in, leaving him in awe of the remarkable person he has come to know. The warmth he feels in his heart is not just from the shared connection but from the undeniable appreciation of your inner and outer beauty.

"San?" you question, noticing his distraction and wondering what has captured his attention so deeply.

San blinks, almost like he's been caught in the act of something secret, and quickly replies, "Yes!"

You can't help but chuckle at his somewhat startled expression. "We are here."

The magnificent Gyeongbokgung Palace stands before you, its grandeur and beauty making the journey worthwhile. You both dismount from the horse, and as you step onto the palace grounds, the weight of the world's mysteries and your unique connection continues to loom over your heads.

The palace grounds are a bustling hive of activity, even as the day inches towards twilight. Commoners from all walks of life have gathered to admire the magnificent architecture, wander through the lush gardens, and soak in the historical splendour of Gyeongbokgung Palace.

San and yourself make your way through the lively crowds, you discreetly raise a scarf to drape over your head, partially concealing your face. Though you are not accustomed to the recognition and respect bestowed upon you as a supposed princess in this world, you are aware that you must maintain your appearance. To the people here, you are not the cafe owner from Seoul but a royal figure who demands respect.

Your attire and the scarf shroud your identity, giving you a degree of anonymity as you navigate the palace's vast courtyards and intricate passageways. San walks alongside you, blending seamlessly into the throng of visitors, his presence a source of both comfort and companionship.

The whispers of the crowd, the laughter of children, and the gasps of awe as they take in the grandeur of the palace envelop you. It's a vivid reminder of the rich history that envelops you, and for a brief moment, you forget about the strangeness of the world you've been thrust into. The palace comes alive with the shared fascination of the visitors, and you and San are just two more among the countless souls wandering through its storied halls.

You are keenly aware of the importance of maintaining your facade as you traverse the palace. The scarf that conceals your features becomes your shield, protecting your true identity and allowing you to move freely among the people, your thoughts locked in a delicate balance between the two worlds you now inhabit.

Continuing to meander through the throngs of people, San leans in close to you and murmurs in your ear, "So, what exactly are we looking for?"

You contemplate for a moment, the palace's grandeur and historical significance surrounding you, before replying, "I don't know, maybe something that still exists in our world."

San offers a smile of approval, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's a good start. You're super smart."

You chuckle, appreciating the compliment but also trying to play it cool so he doesn't notice the way your heart beats faster, "Stop flattering me; it's not going to make you my bias."

San lets out a laugh and rolls his eyes playfully, his lips curving into a grin. "Well, it's worth a try, right?"

The two of you share a moment of lighthearted banter, the playfulness of your conversation providing a brief respite from the mysteries that shroud your current circumstances.

As you and San navigate the bustling palace, you suggest a plan, saying, "I'll go around the left, and you go around the right. It'll be quicker for us to split up." Your eyes dart around, on the lookout for any sign of noblemen or advisors who may recognize you.

San, however, appears concerned and holds your arm gently, restraining you from moving away. "What if you get in trouble?"

You smile reassuringly and reply, "I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you." You chuckle softly, trying to hide the fluttering sensation that his touch on your arm ignites. "Stay low, and please don't go around announcing you're from another world. If you end up in the dungeon, it won't be as easy for me to rescue you."

Your words carry a sense of caution, the weight of your shared journey growing more apparent as you prepare to part ways temporarily within the palace. It's a moment of both anticipation and apprehension, knowing that your decisions in this unfamiliar world can have unforeseen consequences.

"Just meet me back here in an hour," you say, giving San a warm smile before parting ways.

San nods, his expression affectionate and filled with genuine concern. "Stay safe."

With those parting words, you both venture into different directions within the bustling palace, each with your own quest and the hope of uncovering clues that may lead you closer to understanding the mysteries of your dual existence.

You methodically search through the palace, scouring every nook and cranny without raising suspicion. Every rock, every brick, and every detail of the architecture comes under your scrutiny, yet nothing stands out as the mysterious link between your two worlds. It's a challenging task, as you're not even entirely sure what you're looking for.

After what feels like both an eternity and the blink of an eye, you glance up at the position of the sun in the sky. The hour has nearly passed, and it's time to make your way back to the agreed meeting point. The crowd begins to thin, and you're aware of the increasing risk of drawing attention to yourself if you continue your search.

Heading back to the designated spot, you spot San already approaching, a sense of defeat etched on his face.

When he reaches you, he inquires, "Did you find anything?"

You shake your head, disappointment clear in your expression. "No, nothing. It's hard to look for something when we don't even know what we're searching for."

Desperation creeps into your voice as you continue, "Tell me everything that happened when you were filming, every small detail that could be significant."

San furrows his brows in deep thought, trying to recall every detail from that day. "Well, one of the dancers ripped his pants during a take. There was an odd rock that almost all of us tripped over at one point..."

You press him for more, your sense of urgency growing. "And what else?"

San's eyes light up with realisation. "I don't know if this is relevant, but there was this old lady. She wouldn't leave us alone unless we bought one of her tassels. The owner told us she's always there, selling charms and whatnot."

Your heart skips a beat as San mentions the old lady. The pieces start to fall into place, and you can't help but feel that you're on the verge of a breakthrough. "An old lady? I saw an old lady too! She sold me a charm to bring love into my life."

“She also sold me one for love!” San exclaims as the dots line up in his head also.

Walking together toward the area where your horse is stabled, you and San discuss the topic about the old lady.

"If only she were here right now," San grumbles, his lips forming a pout. "We could see if her charm is what made us end up here."

You both engage in light banter, acknowledging the absurdity of the situation. The prospect of the old lady's charm being the catalyst for your parallel journeys is almost too surreal to contemplate.

Then, unexpectedly, something, no, someone captures your attention. Emerging from the grand palace doors is a woman who looks incredibly familiar. Your heart skips a beat as you experience a moment of déjà vu, as if the universe is playing a cosmic joke on you.

"San," you say, drawing the young man's attention. He had been aimlessly kicking around stones out of frustration.

"I think she's here right now," you explain, your voice quivering with a mix of excitement and disbelief.

“I thought you were smart, that’s impossible,” San pivots to where you're looking, his eyes widening with shock upon seeing the woman exiting the palace.

In an instant, your eyes meet, and an unspoken understanding passes between you. You both know that you must act quickly to seize this unexpected opportunity.

Without a word, you take off running together in the direction of the woman, your hearts pounding with anticipation.

"Lady!" you yell, your voice echoing through the palace courtyard. Your cry catches her attention as you and San draw nearer, but instead of stopping to address you, she immediately turns and bolts away, disappearing into the forest.

Determined, you give chase, your heart pounding as you follow her into the dense woods. It's puzzling how an elderly woman can move so nimbly, but you're driven by the urgency of your quest.

After a few intense minutes of pursuit, you finally manage to close the gap. Your hand lands firmly on her shoulder, bringing her to an abrupt halt. The old lady, her breath laboured and eyes wide, is now captive in your grasp, and you're ready to seek the answers you've been searching for.

San is close behind the two of you and when he reaches you he places his hand on a nearby tree, trying to catch his breath.

"For an old lady, you're really fast," San exclaims, trying to catch his breath.

You can't help but chuckle at his dishevelled state. "Aren't you supposed to be really athletic?" you retort, teasing him lightly.

"In this world, no," San replies, catching his breath before turning his attention to the old lady. "Please, give us answers."

The old lady, her voice hoarse, attempts to catch her breath as well. "I don't know what you're talking about."

San looks at her with an expression of disbelief, as if he can't fathom her response. "Yes, you do. You bolted in the other direction when we approached you."

The lady, appearing somewhat offended, glances between you and San before responding, "Approached? I beg your pardon. How would you like it if two strangers were hurtling towards you?"

You almost burst into laughter at her retort, and you can see the incredulous look on San's face. The situation has taken an unexpected turn.

"Look, ma'am," you interject, trying to steer the conversation in a more serious direction. "We're well aware that you know something about us. We just want some answers."

The lady rolls her eyes before scanning her surroundings as if she's checking for any potential eavesdroppers. This action puzzles both you and San, and you exchange bewildered glances. San simply shrugs his shoulders in confusion, unsure of what to make of this mysterious encounter.

“Not here though,” her tone turns serious as she leads you further into the woods.

The woods, although unfamiliar, have a hauntingly beautiful quality to them. Tall, ancient trees stretch their gnarled limbs towards the sky, forming a canopy of leaves that filter the low sunlight, creating a mystical, ethereal atmosphere. The ground is carpeted with a thick layer of moss and ferns, lending an otherworldly green hue to the forest floor. Birdsong and the rustle of leaves in the breeze provide a melodic backdrop to your journey, adding to the sense of enchantment that surrounds you.

Despite the woods' eerie charm, there's an undeniable feeling of isolation and obscurity as you venture deeper into its depths. The silence here is deafening, save for the occasional chirping of a distant bird or the rustling of unseen critters in the underbrush. Shafts of muted, golden sunlight pierce through the dense foliage, casting elongated shadows on the forest floor.

As you approach the fallen tree blocking the path, you marvel at its sheer size and age. It appears to have been lying here for centuries, with gnarled roots and crumbling bark that hint at the passage of time. The tree's massive branches extend into the undergrowth, creating an imposing and challenging barrier to your progress.

The old lady, still leading the way, jumps lithely over the tree, demonstrating a remarkable agility that seems out of place for her age. Her movements are fluid and graceful, as if the forest itself welcomes her presence.

San stands beside the fallen tree, offering you his hand, his eyes filled with concern and support. You grasp his hand, and he assists you in navigating the obstacle. As you make your attempt to cross, your foot catches on a stubborn root, causing you to lose your balance. Just as you teeter precariously, San's strong arm wraps around your waist, ensuring you don't fall. His touch is comforting, and for a brief moment, you both share a wordless connection as you regain your footing. San's heart lurches in his chest upon making contact with you, and he can't help but smile when he notices the flustered expression on your face.

The old lady observes this interaction from a distance, her knowing eyes filled with a fond amusement, and she motions for you to continue following her deeper into the forest. The journey becomes even more enigmatic and intriguing as you move forward, leaving the fallen tree behind and plunging further into the mystical beauty and mystery of the woods.

Slowly, the sun dips below the horizon making the woods take on an eerie quality. The once vibrant and lush forest now transforms into a mysterious and dark place. The temperature drops, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can't help but feel a little scared and vulnerable in this unfamiliar environment.

San, noticing your discomfort, moves a bit closer to you, not touching but making sure you know he's there for you. His presence brings some comfort, and you lean slightly into him, seeking warmth and assurance. Just as you're starting to relax, a howl echoes through the woods, sending a jolt of fear through your body. You instinctively press your arm against San, finding solace in his nearness.

"Are those wolves?" you ask, your voice quivering.

San, his cheeks slightly flushed, offers a reassuring smile. "It's okay, I'm here," he says with a touch of affection in his tone, making your heart skip a beat.

Still feeling uneasy, you keep your eyes on the darkening forest.

San notices your increasing anxiousness and quickly starts a conversation to distract you, "have you ever been to one of our concerts?" San asks, his curiosity piqued.

You shake your head, the tension slowly easing. "No, actually. I've been so focused on my education and then opening the café that I've barely had time. But now it's just a money problem. I've put all my savings into the café."

San nods, showing genuine interest in your dedication. "You're really dedicated to the café."

A soft smile plays on your lips. "It's been my dream since I was young."

San's curiosity heightens, he wants to know more. "Why is that?"

You take a deep breath, allowing the beauty of the moment to wash over you, the eerie woods, the presence of San beside you, and your shared stories. "Well, when I was a kid, my mother owned a cafe. I used to help her around when I was young, and I always wanted to own the cafe when she retired. I loved the way it brought people together. It's like a place where you can escape from your daily life, enjoy a cup of coffee, and maybe even make a new friend. I wanted to create that for others, a space where people can find comfort and connection.”

Sharing the story of your café and the emotional reason behind your dedication, San's eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears. He listens with intense attention, his heart swelling with empathy and understanding.

"My mother passed away when I was young, and my father couldn't make enough money to support us, so we had to sell the place. Ever since then, I've dreamed of carrying on her legacy."

San's voice is filled with emotion as he responds, "I'm so sorry to hear about your mother. It must have been tough for you." He takes a deep breath, his own experiences coming to the surface. "Being an idol, I don't get to see my parents often, and I really miss them. But I keep going to make them proud. I know how you feel."

Smiling at San, you feel the connection between you deepen, and San finds himself experiencing an overwhelming amount of respect and admiration for your strength and determination. He can't help but feel a powerful emotional response to your story, and his heart jerks in his chest. He's touched by your vulnerability and the way you've persevered in the face of adversity. In this moment, the small but growing feelings he has for you become even more evident.

You and San share a meaningful gaze, both of your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The warmth of his smile provides a comforting connection between you, and in that moment, you can't help but feel a deep sense of belonging. Unbeknownst to you, the same feelings of belonging, understanding, and connection are mirrored in San's heart, as he finds himself drawn to you more deeply than he could have ever imagined.

“When we get out of here, you are invited to all of our concerts, free of charge.” San exclaims, his wide smile contagious.

“Then I can see Mingi body rolling with my own two eyes.”

“I'm going to feed you to the wolves.”

“We are here.”

The old lady's voice gently breaks your bickering with San, and you shift your gaze towards the source of her words. With a silent nod, she points to a small grotto-like cottage nestled deep within the woods. Covered in vibrant, velvety green moss, it looks like it has been plucked from a Pinterest post. The quaint little dwelling is simultaneously cosy and inviting, yet there is an eerie and somewhat unsettling quality to it that sends shivers down your spine. It seems as if ancient stories and secrets are hidden within its walls, waiting to be uncovered.

The forest that surrounds the cottage adds to the eerie charm. It is a mesmerising place, where the faint light of the setting sun dappled the landscape with warm, golden hues, casting long, enchanting shadows that seemed to dance with every passing breeze. It is beautiful, mysterious, and somewhat foreboding, a fusion of emotions that keeps you on edge.

You can't help but glance over at San, who shares your cautious expression. His eyes meet yours, and his warm smile attempts to soothe your nerves.

Following the old lady's lead, you cautiously approach the charming cottage, hesitating before the small door, which seems to be inviting you inside. The soft glow emanating from the windows adds to the enigmatic ambiance. It is a place that begged exploration, yet also invokes a feeling of hesitancy, as if stepping across the threshold would mean willingly delving into the unknown.

Taking a step closer to the cottage, San reaches out, gently grasping your hand and intertwining your fingers. There are no words exchanged, but his actions speak volumes. His warm touch conveys a silent reassurance, as if he is seeking solace and support just as much as he was offering it. His grip is a mixture of emotions, perhaps fueled by fear or the desire to protect you, and it sends your heart into a flurry of emotions. Your cheeks warm up, and butterflies flit through your stomach as you continue your journey towards the mysterious cottage, hand in hand with San.

Stepping through the small door of the cottage, you and San are greeted by a warm, cosy interior. The walls are adorned with wooden panels, giving the place a rustic, cabin-like feel. The ceiling is supported by wooden beams that add to the overall charm of the room. An inviting fireplace stands against one wall, its embers casting a comforting glow that bathes the space in a soft, flickering light.

In the heart of the room, there is a comfortable, worn-in sofa that beckoned for weary travellers like yourselves. Its deep red cushions invited you to sit down and rest, and you can’t help but admire how perfectly it fits into the rustic décor of the cottage. A wooden coffee table sits in front of the sofa, adorned with trinkets, dried herbs, and a collection of weathered books.

What captures your attention the most, however, is the large, cast-iron cauldron set in the centre of the room. It stands on a sturdy wooden tripod, and it appears to be empty, its black interior gleaming in the firelight. The cauldron is ancient, with ornate patterns etched along its rim, hinting at the history it holds within its iron confines. Taking in the warm and cosy ambiance of the cabin, you can't help but wonder about the mysteries it holds. The combination of old-world charm and the feeling of being in an entirely different realm is both alluring and unsettling. It is as though time has stood still in this hidden refuge, waiting for someone to uncover its secrets.

Taking in the cosy surroundings of the cottage, San's hand remains gently intertwined with yours. The warmth of his hand, combined with the comforting ambiance of the room, help ease the nervousness that has settled within you. The flickering firelight dances across the wooden walls, casting a soothing, amber glow on the two of you.

The old lady bustles around the room with a sense of familiarity, fetching cups and a teapot. Her movements are both methodical and graceful, as if she has been performing these tasks for many years. She has a kind, grandmotherly air about her, and her actions feel like a welcoming embrace.

With a warm smile, she pours the fragrant tea into delicate, porcelain cups, the gentle aroma wafting through the room, filling the air with the comforting scent of herbs and spices. The cups clink softly as she places them on the coffee table in front of the two of you.

You decide to take a seat on the plush, red sofa, and San sits down beside you. Your thighs touching, and the contact between you brought a sense of comfort and security. The cushions embraced you like a familiar friend, and the two of you found yourselves sitting close, as if the physical closeness mirrored the connection that was growing between you.

Sipping on the warm tea, you feel your nerves slowly begin to fade, replaced by a newfound sense of curiosity and wonder.

San and you sit in the cosy cabin, sipping tea and gathering your thoughts, the pressing question of how to return to your own world lingers heavily in the air. You know it is time to seek answers, and you exchange a glance with San before turning your attention to the old lady, a mix of curiosity and frustration in your voices.

"So, how do we get back to our world?" you inquire, your voice filled with a hint of desperation. "And what brought us here in the first place?"

San's voice is more direct as he joins the conversation. "Yeah, we understand we need to find our way out, but why were we brought here in the first place?"

The old lady, who had been bustling around the cabin to fetch cups and a teapot, pauses in her tasks. She takes a moment to consider your questions and then offers a thoughtful response, her voice laced with wisdom. "You were brought here by destiny, not by me. It appears that fate has a plan for both of you."

Your brows furrow with disbelief, and you shoot a sceptical glance at San. This answer hardly provides any solace, and San decides to voice your collective concerns.

"But you gave us those tassels. Weren't they what brought us here? So, it is your fault, and you need to help us get back."

The old lady lets out a weary sigh, understanding the frustration etched on both your faces. Her eyes betray a mix of amusement and sympathy as she speaks, "You are correct; the charms you were given had a role to play. However, they were more like keys, opening the door that destiny had laid before you."

You share another puzzled look with San, trying to grasp the cryptic nature of her explanation. San's patience wears thin, and he leans forward, his eyes locked onto hers. "Okay, so if we were brought here by destiny, how do we go back? What's the way out?"

The old lady leans back in her chair, reflecting on her next words.

“There is the existence of a rare and precious thread that can be woven into a tassel, allowing you to return to your world. It is the sister thread of the charm that brought the two of you here. However, the thread is a rarity, and it can only be made every six months. I know someone who has some, yet they live on the other side of the woods, it’ll take you the whole day for me to get it and return.”

San's frustration becomes more noticeable as he asks, "So, when can we get this thread? Tomorrow?"

The old lady shakes her head gently, a sense of regret in her eyes. "I'm sorry, but I have visitors scheduled for tomorrow. It will be the day after tomorrow before I can fetch the thread for you."

You and San exchange a sigh of frustration, aware that your predicament has become increasingly complicated by the constraints of time.

"What if we get it? We can leave in the early morning and be back in the evening for you to make it." You suggest the plan with a glimmer of hope in your eyes, your voice brimming with determination.

The old lady observes you and San thoughtfully before offering her response, her expression reflecting a mix of curiosity and contemplation. "I suppose that could work. If you get it back to me before dark, I will make it for you."

"What's the catch?" San asks with a hint of scepticism.

The old lady reassures him, "There is no catch."

San's doubt lingers as he continues, "Don't play with me. You're a witch; there's always a catch."

She maintains her composure and responds, "I am not a witch."

Your eyes narrow in disbelief, and you press further, "Girl, you have a cauldron in the middle of your house. Be for real."

Your incredulity mirrors his as you try to make sense of the unusual surroundings and situation.

"You will find out the catch when you return with the thread," she calmly expresses. "This is the risk you have to take. Do you really wish to go home?" Her words are enigmatic, leaving you and San uncertain about what lies ahead on this unexpected journey.

"For now, though," she says, standing up from her chair, "get some rest. I'm sure you are tired from your travels."

You and San walk through the dimly lit corridor to the small room the old lady has prepared for you. It's a cosy, rustic space, with wooden walls and beams overhead, giving it a warm and inviting ambiance. The room is adorned with various knick-knacks, and the window reveals the occasional flicker of fireflies outside, casting fleeting shadows across the room.

Upon entering the room, you both find a comfortable, albeit not very spacious, resting place. There's only one bed, and the realisation causes a simultaneous blush to creep across both your faces. You feel a pang of guilt about the potential awkwardness of the situation, but before you can protest, San insists on taking the floor.

He quickly arranges a blanket he found in a nearby chest and lays it out on the wooden floor, attempting to make a makeshift bed for himself.

"I can't let you sleep on the floor," you object, worried about his comfort.

San chuckles, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lanterns outside. "It's fine, really. I'll be comfortable."

You give in, though you still feel a bit uneasy about it. San's considerate nature is touching, but you can't help but wish for a more suitable solution.

After a moment, you ease yourself into the plush bed. The soft mattress seems to envelop you, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh. The bed feels like a luxurious escape after the long, tiring journey you've had. As you lay there, the comfort and warmth of the bed begin to lull you into a state of drowsiness.

San finishes arranging his makeshift bed on the floor beside you and glances over with a warm smile, his gaze a mix of concern and reassurance. As you're beginning to drift into slumber, he whispers softly, "Goodnight," in the dimly lit room.

The only sounds are the gentle crackling of the fireplace and the faint rustling of leaves outside, making you feel cosy and safe as you slowly succumb to sleep, with San's presence nearby providing a sense of comfort.

The sun's warmth bathes the forest in a golden glow as you and San step onto the path marked on the map. The cool, crisp air fills your lungs, invigorating you for the journey ahead. The forest around you is enchanting, with tall trees and vibrant flora that create an ethereal ambiance. Birds sing melodiously, providing a sense of tranquillity despite the challenges that await you.

The path, as the old lady described, is well-worn and meanders through the woods, guiding you further into the heart of the forest. You follow the landmarks indicated on the map: a peculiarly shaped tree, a massive boulder with moss clinging to its sides, and a serene, babbling brook. Each one reassures you that you're on the right track.

As you continue your journey, you come across a part of the forest that is denser and more shadowed than before. The old lady's warnings echo in your mind as you quicken your pace, your grip on the map tightening. You feel a sense of determination to return safely and bring San with you to your world.

The terrain gradually changes, leading you uphill and into a section of the forest where the trees are thicker and their branches intertwine, creating a natural canopy. The hushed whispers of the leaves add to the eerie yet captivating atmosphere.

"The old lady mentioned a hidden grove up ahead," San says, studying the map intently. "She said we need to pass through it with caution."

You nod, sharing a look of understanding. The forest seems to hold its breath as you venture deeper. The sense of isolation is palpable, and you start to feel a growing unease. The cool, serene forest from before now feels more mysterious, almost foreboding.

The passage through the hidden grove is narrow and winding, creating an otherworldly setting. Shafts of sunlight cut through the dense foliage, casting intricate patterns on the forest floor. You can't help but marvel at the beauty around you, even as you keep an eye out for the thread's location.

Moving forward, the path begins to broaden once more, and the map indicates that you are nearing the area where the thread can be found. An excitement fills you both, and you exchange a hopeful glance. The anticipation of success fuels your determination to complete this mission.

The map guides you to a small clearing where, according to the old lady, the thread can be collected. But as you reach the area, you realise that there are multiple threads, each one shimmering in different colours, suspended in the air as if by magic. They sway gently, casting colourful reflections on the ground.

San looks at you with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Which one do we choose?"

The old lady's advice comes back to you: "The thread must be chosen carefully, as it will determine where you return to."

Your heart pounds as you weigh your options. The forest around you holds its breath, waiting for your decision. The threads await your touch, their ethereal beauty a stark contrast to the perilous journey that brought you here.

Yet the second you reach out for a thread, a woman appears in front of you, halting you from grabbing the threads.

The air becomes charged with tension as the mysterious lady appears, her presence sending shivers down your spine. She stands near the threads, her eyes filled with an otherworldly wisdom.

San instinctively moves closer to you, blocking you from her, and you can feel his apprehension as he interlocks your hands.

“You mustn't take without giving, child. There is a price.”

"What is the price?" San asks, his voice trembling slightly.

The lady's expression remains enigmatic as she speaks, "To claim the thread that calls to your soul, you must offer me your most precious memory. Memories are the threads of your life, woven together to create your identity, and the idea of parting with one is a heavy burden to bear. It is the only way to ensure you are taken to your rightful place. This is the balance of the forest's magic."

The lady's request for a precious memory leaves you both in a state of shock. Your mind races as you consider the magnitude of the request. Your memories are a part of your very essence, each one holding a special place in your heart. You look at San, his eyes mirroring your own feelings of uncertainty.

San squeezes your hand, his voice a whisper, "What do we do? We can't give up our memories."

The lady, her gaze unwavering, adds, "I can see the bond you share, your connection is strong. One memory will be strong enough for the both of you."

You share a wordless, meaningful glance with San.

With a deep breath, you nod in San's direction, your silent gesture conveying your readiness to move forward. San meets your eyes with a deep sense of gratitude, an unspoken acknowledgment of the sacrifice you're both about to make.

The lady extends her hand toward you, and you accept it cautiously, your trust in her growing by the minute.

"Now, think of the memory," she instructs gently.

The room falls into an eerie silence as you stand before the threads, tears still glistening in your eyes. You can feel San's supportive presence beside you, his concern unspoken but palpable.

The lady extends her hand toward you, and you accept it cautiously.

You close your eyes, delving deep into your thoughts to find the memory that holds the most significance. Tears gather at the corners of your eyes as the memory surfaces, the emotions tied to it overwhelming.

You take a moment to collect yourself, focusing on the cherished memory, replaying it in your mind like a vivid film. It's a memory from your childhood, a day at the beach with your mother, building sandcastles and laughing. You remember the feeling of the warm sand beneath your feet, the sound of the waves crashing, and the pure happiness in your mother’s eyes.

San watches you attentively, his concern evident in his gaze. He wants to rush to your side, to comfort you in this vulnerable moment, but he restrains himself.

Opening your eyes, you're greeted by the gentle yet piercing gaze of the lady. Her hand is extended toward the threads, waiting for your choice.

Your heart guides you toward a particular thread, one that stands out in a rich, dark purple shade. It shimmers with an otherworldly luminescence, a vibrant and mysterious aura that beckons to you. You reach for it, your hand trembling slightly as you grasp the thread, and it feels warm to the touch, like a connection to the past and the future.

For some inexplicable reason, your heart guides you to the thread, tugging at your emotions. It feels like the right choice, and you reach out to take it, a profound sense of purpose filling your heart.

With the thread secured in your hand, you turn to face San, a mixture of emotions passing between you. Gratitude, determination, and a hint of sadness are reflected in your eyes.

San smiles softly, offering you a reassuring nod, understanding the importance of the memory you've chosen to give up. He knows you've made this sacrifice willingly for both of your sakes.

You and San begin the journey back through the dense forest, the dimming light of the setting sun casts a warm, orange glow through the trees, a weighty silence hangs in the air. The precious thread safely tucked in your satchel serves as a constant reminder of the memory you've willingly sacrificed. Both of you understand the gravity of the situation.

After a while, San breaks the silence with a gentle voice, "If I can ask, what memory did you give up?"

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the memory in your heart. "It was a memory of a day at the beach with my mother, from my childhood. We were building sandcastles and laughing together. It was one of those moments of pure happiness that I never wanted to forget."

San looks at you with a mixture of understanding and sympathy. He realises that it was a cherished memory you held dear, and his respect for your sacrifice deepens.

San speaks again, his expression one of curiosity, " If it were me who had to choose, I wonder what memory I'd give."

You glance at him curiously, your satchel gently bumping against your side as you walk. "Have you thought about it before?"

San nods thoughtfully. "Not specifically, but... I guess a memory from my trainee days, one from the first time I saw our fans at a concert, or maybe our first win. Those moments are really special to me. But, it's a tough choice. I can't imagine giving up any memory willingly."

You both walk on in thoughtful silence, the significance of the thread and your memories weighing heavily on your minds.

"It's peculiar," San says, breaking the silence as he gazes over at you.

"What is?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.

"I wasn't expecting you to pick the purple thread. In my opinion, you strike me as more of a pink person."

A laugh escapes your lips. "I look like a pink person?"

San nods, a playful smile forming on his lips. "Yes, but I guess appearances can be deceiving."

You chuckle at his observation. "I do like pink, to be honest. But something about that purple thread just felt right, like it was calling out to me."

"That's even more interesting," San utters, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"How so?"

"Purple is my favourite colour," San confesses, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. You turn to look at him, a hint of confusion on your face.

San gazes at you, a warm and affectionate expression in his eyes. "Maybe it is destiny that we found each other."

Flustered by San's words, a warm sensation spreads across your cheeks as you quickly hide your face behind your hand. Your heart flutters at the affection in his gaze, and you can't help but sneak a few more glances at him, stealing moments to admire his comforting presence. His eyes, filled with fondness, occasionally meet yours, and a faint, mischievous smile dances at the corners of his lips. San bites his lip, suppressing a grin as he watches you.

The journey back to the old lady's cottage takes you through the dappled forest as the sun begins its slow descent. You and San, side by side, share unspoken words of comfort. San's unwavering presence helps you navigate the intricate path that weaves through the woods, while the echoes of rustling leaves and bird songs in the distance create a serene ambiance.

Arriving at the cosy cottage, you find the old lady tidying up her small abode. She turns to the two of you with a knowing glance, causing your heart to race. An exchange of puzzled glances with San only deepens the sense of mystery.

Hastily, you present her with the valuable thread you secured. She accepts it, murmuring the word "peculiar."

You and San exchange yet another look, curiosity gnawing at your minds. Despite your burning questions, you both decide not to press her further at this moment.

With the thread in her possession, you turn to the old lady once more, your curiosity now focused on the catch you've been wondering about.

“What is the catch?” You question, desperate to know what it is that could be at risk.

“I need time to thread the tassel, then I will tell you the risk. For now, please eat.”

“How long will it take?” San inquires, also desperate to get home.

“An hour or so, it won't be long. Help yourself to food, it is still warm.”

Sitting at the old lady's humble wooden table, you and San eagerly devour the food set before you. It's a simple meal, but after the day's adventures, it tastes like a feast. You're both so engrossed in eating that your earlier question about the odd word "peculiar" remains on hold.

Taking another bite of the hearty stew, San leans in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, since we have some time to kill," he begins, "which performance is your absolute favourite?"

You swallow your food, a burst of excitement rushing through you as you recall the various stunning performances you've seen, yet you can't help but to laugh. San’s dedication to find out your favourite parts about his group is endearing as well as funny.

"Well, there are so many, but if I had to choose, I’d probably say Take Me Home."

San grins widely, his eyes lighting up. "Really?." He leans closer, like an excited child, "is it because of my dance solo?"

You laugh at his words and finish another bite and ponder for a moment. "It is really cool. The way you used the mirrors is really cool to me also."

“Thank you for supporting us,” San says quietly, his smile gentle as he looks down at his food.

“Now San.” you say loudly, catching his attention. Pointing your spoon at him, you return the question, “what is your favourite performance to do?”

The two of you continue to chat and savour your meal, the tension lifting up the more you get engrossed in each other's company. Sharing your favourite Ateez moments and music creates a sense of connection which makes the wait for the old lady to finish the tassel more bearable.

You and San sit at the old lady's table, your empty bowls pushed aside, you're engaged in an animated conversation. The room is filled with laughter and shared stories, a comfortable warmth filling the air. You've found that you share many common interests and hobbies beyond just K-pop and Ateez, forging a deeper connection as you discuss your favourite books, movies, and travel destinations. It feels like you've known each other for ages.

The moments pass quickly as you both become lost in the flow of conversation, sharing tales of your personal experiences and dreams. Your voices resonate with passion and excitement as you talk about your aspirations, and you can't help but admire the way San's eyes light up when he talks about his music and performances.

Suddenly, the room's door creaks open, and the old lady enters, holding the completed tassel in her hand. The stunning charm catches your breath in your throat, a masterpiece of intricate weaving and vibrant colours. The thread glistens in the soft light of the room, and it looks as if it carries the power to transport you back to your world. Its craftsmanship and beauty are beyond anything you've ever seen before.

San and you both fall silent as you gaze in awe at the tassel, momentarily speechless. The old lady smiles as she approaches the table, placing the tassel gently in the centre. "Here it is, the thread charm that will take you home," she says, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

You and San exchange a look, both of you sharing a sense of wonder and gratitude for this woman who has helped you.

Suddenly, San's voice pierces the room, grabbing your attention. "Where is the other?" he inquires, his tone filled with urgency.

You and San exchange anxious glances, sensing that something is amiss. The old lady takes a deep, sorrowful breath, her expression growing more serious. "That is the catch," she confesses, her voice heavy with regret. "Only one of you may return home."

San's anger flares, his face flushing with frustration as he runs his trembling hands through his dishevelled hair. You take a step back, your heart sinking with disbelief, and a wave of despair washes over you.

The old lady calmly elaborates, "There is only enough thread to create one tassel. I can retrieve the thread again in six months when it becomes available. But for now, a difficult decision must be made—one must return home, while the other must stay."

The weight of the revelation hangs heavily in the air, the room filled with tension as you and San grapple with the realisation that a choice must be made.

“I will leave it here,” she utters, carefully placing the tassel on the wooden table, “you must sleep with it beneath your pillow, then when you fall asleep, you shall awake in your world.”

The old lady gazes at the two of you, and for the first time in her long life, a pang of guilt washes over her. Letting out a deep sigh, she retreats to the room she emerged from, her expression marked by the gravity of the situation.

You watch as the old lady retreats to the other room, you find a chair near the table and take a seat, deep in thought. San, on the other hand, begins to pace around the room, his frustration evident in his movements. He repeatedly runs his hands through his hair, his expression conflicted and troubled.

After several minutes of silence, you both turn to face each other simultaneously. In unison, you utter the same words, "You take it."

"No, you take it!" You exclaim firmly, determination shining in your eyes.

San responds, equally resolute, "You saved my life, you take it!"

"I saved your life so you can go home," you counter, your voice unwavering.

San's gaze softens as he insists, "You've been here for months, you take it. I want you to go home."

You shake your head, a hint of sadness in your eyes. "You have an important life ahead of you, San. Go home, and I'll meet you there in six months."

San mutters your name, his heart heavy, “you have to run the cafe, you can't wait six months.”

“San. This is what my mother would have wanted… there are more people who need you than people who need me.”

“What if I need you?” San exclaims, tears coming to his eyes.

“San…”

“I can’t leave you here.”

"San," you say firmly, standing up. You grab the tassel and then take his hand, gently pulling him towards the sofa. He follows, looking into your eyes, silently pleading.

Gently, you place the tassel in his hand and he looks up at you, tears threatening to fall as he looks at your face.

Taking a deep breath, you begin speaking, your voice gentle and filled with emotion, "San, I know you want me to go home, but you need to understand something. Your world needs you. Your family, your friends, and your fans all rely on you. You have dreams to fulfil, music to create, and a life to live. You have a purpose, and it's vital to so many people."

You reach out and place your hand on his, holding it with a reassuring grip. "I've learned so much from you during our time here, and I'm grateful for every moment. But I can't take away your chance to return to your world, to be with your loved ones. I'll wait for my turn, and when the time comes, I'll make it home."

San's eyes glisten with unshed tears as he absorbs your words. You continue, your voice steady, "We'll see each other again in six months, and by then, we'll both be where we're meant to be. I believe in you, San. It's time for you to go back and fulfil your destiny."

San listens intently, his eyes fixed on yours as your voice conveys your deep concern and affection.

“I just…” he begins, his voice cracking, yet you stop him.

“It’s okay. Let's go to bed.”

Starting to make your way toward the bedroom, the knowledge that San will disappear by morning brings tears to your eyes. The weight of impending separation presses on your chest, and it's hard to hold back the emotions welling up within you.

Before you can enter the room, San's strong yet gentle hand reaches out, grabbing your wrist with a firm but tender grip. He pulls you toward him, and suddenly, you find yourself enveloped in his arms. The world around you seems to fade into the background as the two of you share a moment.

The hug is a powerful mixture of emotions. San's heart beats rapidly against your chest, its rhythm a reflection of the anxiety and sorrow he feels about the upcoming separation. His tears, warm and wet, seep into the fabric of your clothing as he buries his face in your shoulder, seeking comfort and solace in your presence.

The comforting warmth of his body contrasts sharply with the chill in the room, creating an immediate sense of intimacy and solace. It's as if his body heat radiates into your very soul, offering a shelter from the storm of emotions raging inside both of you.

The subtle scent of him mingles with the earthy, forest fragrance that has clung to your clothes from your time in this peculiar place. It's a blend of familiar and foreign, marking this moment as uniquely special.

You can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes shaky breaths, his body trembling slightly with the weight of the impending parting. Each inhale and exhale shows the unspoken emotions that surge between you.

In this shared embrace, the world beyond the two of you fades away. Tears are a silent language, and your tears mix with his. This hug carries the bittersweet weight of the parting, a physical manifestation of the depth of your connection, the pain of separation, and the fervent hope of reuniting in the future. It seems almost insane to you the fact that you met less than three days ago. The person in front of you feels like a person you have known your entire life.

"I'm sorry," San mumbles into your neck, his words laced with regret, his warm breath causing shivers to run down your spine.

Your hand instinctively moves up to pat his head, fingers tangling softly in his hair as you try to provide some comfort. "It's okay, Sannie," you murmur, your voice gentle and reassuring.

With a mixture of emotions, you watch as San takes the bed in the spare room and places the tassel under the pillow. He glances back at you, standing in the door frame, and you offer him a warm smile, your eyes filled with understanding.

"I know what you're thinking," you say gently, a knowing look in your eyes, “I’m not sleeping tonight, don’t think about moving it.” San furrows his eyebrows in confusion, silently wondering how you've seen through him so clearly.

Without hesitation, San stands up and turns to face you, his eyes locked onto yours with intensity. It's clear that he has something important on his mind. His hands move gently to cup your face, his warm touch both comforting and electrifying. He wipes away the tears that have begun to fall from your eyes, a tender expression on his face as he looks deep into your soul.

In a slow, smooth movement, San rests his forehead against yours. You feel your eyes naturally close, giving in to the moment as the world around you seems to disappear.

“I promise to find you.” San whispers with his eyes closed and his promise lingers in the air, playing with your heart strings.

The two of you stay in this intimate position for a while, the only thing that exists being the warmth you share and the unspoken connection between you.

It's almost surreal to you that you've found yourself in this situation, not just with anyone, but with Choi San himself. The circumstances that led to this moment were beyond imagination, and yet, there's a profound sense of gratitude in your heart that it was him who ended up here with you. The closeness you feel in this moment is something you never expected to experience in your life, and it's a bittersweet reminder of the depth of your connection, the vagaries of fate, and the promise of a future reunion.

With a heavy heart, you bid San a quiet goodnight as you leave his room, pulling the door closed gently behind you. It's a slow, painful process, knowing that this may be the last time you'll see him for a while. You turn away from the door and walk down the dimly lit hallway, the weight of the situation bearing down on you.

Reaching a secluded corner of the hallway, you can no longer hold back the emotions that have been building up. Collapsing to the floor, you succumb to the overwhelming grief that has been gnawing at you. Silent sobs wrack your body, and you clutch your chest, trying to muffle the sounds of your heartache. You bite into the flesh of your hand to stifle the cries that threaten to escape, tears streaming down your face.

Each tear that falls feels like another piece of your heart breaking, and you struggle to come to terms with the harsh reality of having to stay here for longer when all you yearn for is to be home. It's a pain that cuts deep, one that only time can heal. But for now, all you can do is let the tears flow, allowing the raw and unfiltered emotions to have their moment.

Whilst you cry, the exhaustion from the day's events and emotional turmoil begins to take its toll on your body. The sobs gradually subside, replaced by a deep sense of weariness. Your eyelids become heavy, and your limbs feel like lead.

In the dimly lit hallway, you find yourself unable to hold back the fatigue any longer. Your body craves rest and respite from the emotional rollercoaster that has consumed your day.

You slump down against the cold, hard floor, your back resting against the wall. Tears still glisten on your cheeks as you close your eyes. With each ragged breath, your eyelids grow heavier, and a sense of drowsiness envelops you.

The world outside the hallway begins to blur, and the soft hum of the forest fades into the background. In your state of emotional exhaustion, you drift into a fitful slumber, the hallway serving as a makeshift bed. The tears have left their mark on your face, but your body is finally granted a moment of respite.

The night had been an unending cycle of sorrow and confusion, leaving you emotionally drained.

The first rays of dawn filter through the window, causing you to stir from your slumber on the hard hallway floor. Your memories rush back with brutal clarity, a sense of urgency and panic gripping your heart.

With trembling legs, you push yourself to your feet, the weariness still clinging to you. The echoes of the hug, the warmth of his presence, and the desperation to see him again fueled your determination.

Stumbling, you made your way to the room where San had rested. Each step feels like a lifetime, the anticipation of what you might discover palpable in your racing heart. You yearned to see him, but also hope that he has returned home.

The door creaks open and your heart sinks at the sight that greets you. The room is in disarray, pillows strewn, and sheets rumpled, signs that someone had indeed slept there. But it was devoid of San, leaving an aching void where his presence once dwelled.

Tears welled up, blurring your vision as you came to terms with the empty room.

To your left, you hear footsteps approaching, and you turn to find the old lady, her eyes downcast and guilt etches across her features. She knew, and the dread that had been building inside you only deepened.

With a quavering voice, you asked, "Where is he? Where's San?"

The old lady sighed heavily, her eyes meeting yours, bearing the weight of a heavy truth. The anticipation of her response filled the air like a thunderstorm on the horizon.

“He made it back safely.”

You turn back to the room, feeling relieved and torn at the same time.

“I will help you,” the old lady says gently, “I have never felt like this before, but your connection stirred something deep in me.”

“What do you mean?”

“There's a horse outside for you, it'll take you directly to your palace. Go there and in six months I will bring you the tassel. I give you my word.”

“Thank you,” is all you manage to say, your thoughts too occupied with San.

What if he is in the wrong world? What if he is stuck in limbo? What if he doesn't remember anything from this world?

Will you ever see each other again…?

—

San gradually becomes aware of his surroundings, a thick fog of grogginess enveloping his senses. The faint, continuous beep of a machine and hushed murmurs echo in the background. As his eyes open, the harsh hospital lighting makes him squint. The sterile, clinical setting becomes apparent, with white walls and the metallic gleam of medical equipment creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

His vision adjusts, revealing a monitor to his right, its rhythmic beeping punctuating the sterile air. An intravenous line is connected to his arm, administering an unknown liquid into his veins. The scent of antiseptic hangs in the air, intensifying the disconcerting feeling of being in an unfamiliar place.

His head pounds with a relentless ache, and confusion clouds his thoughts. Why is he here? What happened to lead him to this hospital bed? The hunger in his stomach intensifies, adding to the growing sense of disorientation.

In an attempt to make sense of the situation, he pushes himself to sit up. The movement catches the attention of someone in the room—a figure in the corner. The familiar voice of his manager pierces through the ambient sounds, a mix of concern and relief evident.

"San, are you okay?"

San rubs his temples, trying to clear the fog in his mind. The events leading to this hospital room elude him, and he struggles to piece together the fragments of memory. Disoriented and perplexed, he turns to his manager, a multitude of questions forming on his lips.

“What happened?” His voice is hoarse as he speaks, and he can feel from his breath that he hasn't brushed his teeth in a day or two.

“You don't remember?” his manager inquires, worried about San’s wellbeing, he continues upon seeing San’s nod, “you were in practice and suddenly fainted, you've been asleep for almost three days. We thought you were in a coma.”

The second his manager recounts the details of being in a coma, San's mind races, trying to make sense of the fragmented memories flooding back. Flashes of the alternate world, the old lady, and most prominently, you, fill his consciousness. The vivid experiences he shared with you seem surreal, yet the emotions are still fresh, and an urgent restlessness takes hold of him. If he was in a coma for three days, you would be in a coma for almost three months.

Ignoring his manager's pleas for rest, San becomes increasingly agitated. The desire to find you, to confirm the reality of the shared adventure, fuels his determination. He can't stay confined; he needs to know if it was all real or just a vivid dream.

With a burst of energy, San attempts to swing his legs off the side of the bed, dislodging the wires and monitors attached to him. His manager rushes to restrain him, urging him to stay put and recover, but San's sense of urgency overrides any rational thinking.

"No, I need to find them!" San exclaims, desperation in his voice as he struggles against his manager's firm grip.

Ignoring the protests, San manages to free himself from the medical paraphernalia. Disentangling from the monitors and IV lines, he bolts out of the room, driven by an unrelenting determination to find you. His legs are wobbling as he walks, but he manages to regain his composure as he walks quickly around the corridors.

The hospital stretches out before him, a maze of unfamiliar hallways and doors. Panic sets in as he realises he has no idea where he is or where to begin. The sterile environment amplifies his disorientation, and every passing moment without a clue about your whereabouts intensifies his anxiety.

Frantically, he searches for a reception area, hoping for guidance. The urgency of the situation pushes him forward, and despite the lingering weakness, San charges through the hospital corridors, driven by an unshakable determination to find you, no matter the cost.

In a frenzy, San navigates through the hospital corridors until he finally stumbles upon the reception area. The receptionist, a weary woman surrounded by stacks of paperwork, looks up with a half-hearted smile as San approaches, still clad in his hospital gown.

"Excuse me," San gasps, breathless from both the urgency of his quest and his hurried journey through the hospital. "I need to know if someone is here.”

Slowly, the receptionist's eyes narrow, “what is their name?”

San replies with your name and the receptionist furrows her brow, perplexed by the urgency in San's eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't disclose information about patients without proper authorization," she explains, adhering to hospital protocol.

Desperation flickers across San's face as he pleads, "Please, it's important. I need to know if she's here. Is there anyone with that name in a coma for almost three months?"

The receptionist hesitates, studying San for a moment. "How do you know this person?" she inquires, her curiosity piqued.

San, quick on his feet, replies with urgency, "They are a really close friend. We lost touch, and I just found out about their condition. Please, I need to know if they are okay."

The receptionist sighs, her empathetic instincts prevailing over protocol. She lowers her voice and says, "Wait here."

San anxiously watches as the receptionist scans through her files. The seconds feel like an eternity, and his heart pounds with anticipation. Finally, her eyes light up, and she raises her eyebrows, a glimmer of surprise crossing her features.

"Yes, there is someone by that name…” she reveals. "Room 302. But you need to understand, only family members are usually allowed in."

San's gratitude is immense as he thanks the receptionist before darting off toward Room 302, his pace almost a sprint. The journey through the sterile hospital environment seems to stretch endlessly, but San's determination propels him forward. Room 302 holds the promise of answers, and he's willing to face whatever awaits behind that door.

San stands outside Room 302, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath. The weight of the unknown presses on him, and he takes a moment to steel himself before gently pushing open the door.

The door swings open and a hush falls over the room. San's eyes widen as he takes in the sight before him.

There you are, lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by machines and wires. Your hair, longer than he remembers, cascades gently over the pillow, is a sign of the time you've spent in a seemingly endless slumber.

San's heart clenches at the sight of the wires connected to you, a lifeline that has kept you tethered to this world. The room, bathed in the soft glow of monitors, feels both sterile and charged with an emotional intensity that hangs in the air.

Approaching the bed, San's gaze lingers on your peaceful face, now adorned with the marks of time passed. Tears cascade down your closed eyes, and San's heart aches for the pain you have endured in your unconscious state. It's a heartbreaking revelation, but at the same time, there's a profound beauty in the connection they share, transcending the boundaries of worlds.

With a shaky deep breath, San takes a seat in the chair beside your bed. The chair creaks softly under his weight as he reaches out, his trembling fingers gently interlocking with yours. He can feel the warmth of your hand, a tangible connection that defies the barriers of the physical and the metaphysical.

"Hey," San whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. "It's me. I made it back safely." He pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Thank you so much for everything."

San's words hang in the air, a heartfelt acknowledgment of the intertwined fate that brought them together across dimensions. The room, filled with the rhythmic beeping of machines and the soft hum of the hospital, bears witness to a moment that transcends the ordinary—a reunion between two souls bound by an extraordinary connection.

—

“What's with this marker on your calendar?” Wooyoung questions as he walks into San’s room.

San turns away from his desk to see what Wooyoung is pointing at. The mark, indicating six months from the time he awoke, brings a gentle smile to San's face. "Just something important," he replies before redirecting his attention back to the game on his desk.

“Okay… are you okay?” Wooyoung questions, taking a seat on San’s bed.

“Yeah, why?” San responds.

“You've been acting weird ever since you woke up from that coma.”

San turns around again, furrowing his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I don't know, you've been all bittersweet, acting as if you’re going through a breakup. And all these trips to the hospital?”

San scoffs at the analysis before resuming his game. The characters on the screen move around, engaging in virtual battles.

“I’m serious,” Wooyoung insists, “you've been weird.”

“Whatever you say.”

Wooyoung shakes his head, a light chuckle escaping him. “We leave in ten minutes, finish your game quickly.”

—

The dance studio is filled with the rhythmic beat of the music, echoing off the mirrored walls. A palpable energy buzzes in the air as the members practise their choreography for the upcoming comeback. San, adorned in his dance attire, moves with precision and passion, putting his heart into every step.

The past three months have been a whirlwind for the group, with preparations for the comeback taking centre stage. The demanding schedule has left little time for personal matters, and for San, that means infrequent visits to the hospital. The initial relief he felt upon waking up from his own coma has been replaced with the stress of managing a packed agenda.

During those initial two weeks, he diligently visited you every day. Flowers, particularly pink ones, became a weekly tradition, a small gesture to brighten the sterile environment of the hospital room. However, as the comeback drew nearer, the relentless cycle of recordings, dance practices, and promotional activities consumed his time.

Today, the dance practice is particularly gruelling. San can't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing that it has been weeks since his last visit to you. He worries about how you might perceive his absence, fearing that you'll wake up and think he didn't wait for you, or worse, that you'll wake up and be gone.

Whilst the music plays and the members execute each move with precision, San's mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Every leap, every spin, is a dance of dedication to the group and a silent plea for understanding from you. He longs for the moment when he can return to your side, bringing not only flowers but the warmth of his presence and the assurance that he hasn't forgotten the promise he made.

The dance studio pulses with energy as ATEEZ members tirelessly rehearse their choreography for the upcoming comeback. The atmosphere, however, is tense, and a sense of impatience permeates the room as San repeatedly messes up his steps.

For the fourth time, San's foot collides with Mingi's, disrupting the flow of the routine. Frustration bubbles within the group.

Hongjoong's voice cuts through the air, demanding attention. "San, what has gotten into you? Pay attention." His leader's authority echoes, making it clear that patience is wearing thin.

San mumbles a quick apology, his eyes cast downward. Yet, as the group restarts, it's evident that his mind is elsewhere. Another misstep follows, and a collective groan emanates from the group.

Seongwha, although fatigued and annoyed, can't help but express concern for his younger friend. "What's going on? Your mind is somewhere else."

Hongjoong's stern tone is layered with genuine worry as he addresses San. "You've been all over the place since you fainted. It's been more than six months; you need to straighten up." The leader's frustration is palpable, but there's an underlying tone of care. The members, despite their annoyance, share a collective sentiment of concern for San's well-being.

“It hasn’t been six months,” San grumbles under his breath, also frustrated at himself. San of all people would know if it has been six months.

"It has," Wooyoung exclaims, eyebrows furrowing as he gazes at San. "I thought you'd know, it's on your calendar."

San's eyes narrow in disbelief as he retrieves his phone from his pocket, turning it on to check the date. Widening, his eyes register the reality that it has been exactly six months and four days since he emerged from his coma.

"Fuck," San exclaims, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Running his hand through his hair, he's consumed by a sudden rush of guilt. How could he lose track of time? You must have already been awake for more than three days by now.

"I need to go," San mutters under his breath.

"What did you say?" Yunho questions, not catching his soft mutter.

"I need to go. Now," San asserts, this time with more volume. He rushes to his coat and bag, desperately shoving his belongings into it. Meanwhile, his groupmates stare at him with a mix of disbelief and confusion.

"San, what are you doing?" Yeosang inquires, walking up to the man frantically preparing to leave.

"I need to go somewhere."

"San, you can't just leave; we have to practice," Jongho attempts to reason, but his words seem to bounce right off San.

"Choi San," Hongjoong's voice booms through the studio, causing San to momentarily halt his actions. Turning around, San faces Hongjoong, who wears a deeply furrowed brow, an angry expression etched into his features.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hongjoong's voice drips with exasperation as he takes in the dishevelled appearance of the younger male.

“I'm sorry. Really sorry. But there’s something I need to do, and if I don’t, I feel like I’m going to hate myself for the rest of my life,” San exclaims, his voice hoarse, tears welling up in his eyes.

Hongjoong's gaze softens upon seeing San’s vulnerable state. The six others standing around him try to make sense of the situation, but the dots just don’t add up.

“San,”

“I’m sorry, really, I’m so sorry.”

“San,” Hongjoong booms, though not unkindly, his voice carrying a sense of understanding.

“How long will it take?”

“Just today, then I will put all my time and all my effort into this comeback. Just like I always do. I just need today.”

All around him, his friends are confused yet feel their hearts weigh heavily as they witness the desperate state San is in. Never have they seen him like this before, and it feels strange for San to be in such a state.

“Go. But be back tomorrow,” Hongjoong says gently.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I promise to make it up to you. All of you,” San says before bolting out of the room, headed straight for the hospital. He just hopes that he can make it there before visiting times end.

Hongjoong isn’t sure why he allowed San to go, knowing how tight time is right now due to the comeback being in a few weeks. Something in San’s eyes spoke to him, as if destiny were compelling him to go.

San dashes through the bustling streets, weaving through the crowd like a determined arrow cutting through the air. His long strides cover the familiar path to the hospital, the urgency in his heart making the surroundings blur. The city hums with life, but for San, everything else fades into the background.

As he moves, apologies spill from his lips like rapid-fire as he bumps into people on the way. He can't afford to slow down, can't spare a moment for anything but reaching his destination. The KQ building looms behind him, a distant memory as he sprints toward the hospital.

Breath heaving, he bursts through the hospital entrance with a singular purpose. The reception area blurs by as he skips any formality, not bothering to check in. His entire focus is on reaching your room, his heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of his hurried steps.

The sterile, white hallways echo with the familiar sounds of a hospital; the soft footsteps of medical professionals, the distant chatter of visitors, and the rhythmic beeping of machines. San barrels forward, expertly navigating the maze-like corridors, fueled by a mix of anxiety and determination.

Arriving at the elevator, he jabs at the button for your floor, impatience etched across his face. The doors slide open, and he steps in, the confined space providing a brief respite. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he gazes at the floor numbers lighting up as he ascends.

The elevator doors part once more, revealing the hallway that leads to your room. San's pulse quickens as he sprints toward the familiar door. His mind races with worry, uncertainty clouding his thoughts. What will he find when he enters? The anticipation builds with every step, and as he reaches your room, he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever awaits on the other side.

San gingerly turns the doorknob, a mixture of hope and dread swelling within him. The door creaks open, revealing the room where you should be resting. His eyes scan the space, desperately seeking any sign of your presence.

Stepping inside, the reality of the situation crashes over him. Your bed is there, neatly made, but the first thing he notices is the fact that it is empty.

Panic rises in San's chest, and he rushes to your bedside. The room is silent, save for the hum of medical equipment, amplifying the void left by your absence.

San's breath catches in his throat as he clings to the remnants of hope. He gazes around the room, half-expecting you to materialise before him. The silence in the air is deafening, a stark contrast to the lively conversations he had envisioned sharing with you once you woke.

His eyes fall on the wilted pink tulips, a cruel reminder of the hopeful gestures he made in anticipation of your awakening. The vibrant hues have dulled, mirroring the fading optimism in San's heart. San's mind swirls with a whirlwind of thoughts. Guilt creeps in, taunting him with the possibility that he failed you somehow.

He replays every missed opportunity, each day he prioritised work over being by your side. The weight of his choices bears down on him, and a profound sadness envelopes him. Doubt consumes him, questioning if he's truly deserving of happiness or if he's destined to be haunted by regret.

Desperation tightens its grip on San as he moves to the window, hoping for a glimpse of you in the hospital courtyard or perhaps walking down the hallway.

The pink tulips in his hands serve as an emblem of his optimism, now crushed beneath the weight of reality. He recalls the anticipation that accompanied each visit, the flowers symbolising his unwavering belief in your eventual awakening. Now, their wilting petals tell a different story, echoing the fading flame of hope in his heart.

San clutches the tulips tighter, a silent plea for forgiveness to a presence that's no longer there. The room seems colder now, devoid of the warmth he associated with your presence.

The sounds of the hospital, distant footsteps and hushed conversations, serve as an eerie backdrop to San's internal monologue. Doubt creeps in, questioning if he's truly deserving of happiness or if he's fated to be haunted by the spectre of regret.

San's fingers trace patterns on the wilted tulips, his thoughts spiralling into a vortex of introspection. He replays every missed opportunity, each instance where he chose to chase fleeting success over cherishing the moments with you. The room feels smaller, closing in on him as the burden of his choices becomes increasingly unbearable.

Shoulders slumped, San sinks to the floor, still clinging to the flowers. The weight of his heartache is unbearable, each beat echoing a symphony of sorrow. In the quiet room, time becomes elastic, stretching and contracting as he grapples with the reality that he might have lost you forever.

The shadows lengthen as San remains on the floor, lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts. The hospital room, once a space of anticipation and hope, is now a shrine to what could have been. In the hushed stillness, he wishes he could turn back time, rewrite the script that led to this heart-wrenching moment.

“San?”

San's world comes to a screeching halt, the single utterance of his name from behind him slices through the heavy silence like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, he remains frozen, caught between the realms of disbelief and desperate hope. The air hangs thick with anticipation as he dares not turn around, fearing that acknowledging the voice will only amplify the crushing weight of his recent realisation.

A gentle touch graces his shoulder, a tender reassurance that pierces through the numbness that has settled over him. It's a touch so delicate, yet laden with a gravity that sends shivers down his spine. Still reluctant to face the truth, he keeps his gaze fixed on the emptiness before him, afraid to let hope blossom only to be crushed again.

When he finally musters the courage to turn around, the world tilts on its axis. There you stand, a vision of ethereal beauty in your hospital gown, tears mirroring his own streaming down your face. In that moment, the lines between reality and dreams blur, and San feels as if he's been transported to a realm where miracles are not only possible but tangible.

Time seems to suspend as San takes in the sight of you; the person he thought he had lost. Every detail becomes etched into his memory; the vulnerability in your eyes, the traces of weariness on your face, and the overwhelming emotion that courses through the room. It's a tableau of raw, unfiltered emotion that threatens to overwhelm both of you.

A choked sob escapes San's lips as he surges forward, a mixture of disbelief and euphoria propelling himself towards you and into a bone crushing embrace. The world narrows down to the two of you, a cosmic collision of souls who refuse to be separated. The hospital room transforms into a sanctuary where the boundaries of time and space blur, leaving only the profound connection shared between you and San.

Your tears mingle with his, forming a symphony of emotions that speaks more eloquently than words ever could. In that embrace, San feels a weight lifted off his shoulders, a burden he carried for what felt like an eternity. It's a cathartic release, a culmination of months of longing and despair now metamorphosing into a resurgence of joy.

Whilst you hold each other, the room becomes a vessel for shared emotions, an intimate space where the echoes of heartache dissipate, replaced by the melodies of reunion. San pulls away from the embrace to cradle your face in his large hands as he presses his forehead against yours, a silent promise to savour this moment, to etch it into the very fabric of his being. Your body stays pressed against his, the closeness you have been missing and dreaming of since the moment he left

For San, it's not just a reunion; it's a reawakening. The tears that had threatened to drown him now become droplets of newfound happiness. The gravity of your presence grounds him, dispelling the shadows that had cast their spell over his soul.

In the space of the hospital room, San and you find solace in the simple truth that you are together once more. Tears continue to fall, now a harmonious blend of joy and relief.

Amid the quiet murmur of the hospital room, San's eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and profound emotion as he processes your revelation. The weight of his longing, the months spent in anticipation and despair, culminate in a single question that escapes his lips, laden with an earnestness that echoes through the room.

"You... woke up today?" he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief yet brimming with uncontainable joy. As you nod in confirmation, a wave of realisation washes over him, and he takes a moment to absorb the enormity of the moment.

“You remembered?” You mutter softly, the words barely reaching San’s ears.

"I would've waited forever for you," he confesses, his eyes locked onto yours, sincerity echoing in every word. The depth of his commitment, the unwavering dedication to your well-being, resonates in the air, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of his unwavering devotion.

You proceed to share the intricacies of your journey; the delayed arrival of the old lady, the challenges she faced on her way to you, and the serendipity that brought you back to consciousness today. The room transforms into a cocoon of shared stories, weaving a tapestry of experiences that led to this miraculous reunion.

A playful smile tugs at San's lips as he contemplates the unfolding narrative. "Today," he muses, "feels like a chapter from a book written by destiny."

The atmosphere takes a lighthearted turn as he shifts gears, eyes alight with mischievous curiosity. "So," he starts, "now that you're back and I've got you here, how about we celebrate this occasion with a date?"

Your heart skips a beat at the proposition, and a smile graces your lips. "A date?" you echo, genuine surprise reflected in your eyes.

San nods, his expression earnest. "Yes, a date. You saved my life; the least I can do is take you out and make it up to you."

A playful glint dances in your eyes as you ponder his proposal. "Well," you tease, "if you get me Mingi's autograph, we might just have a deal."

San feigns exasperation, mockingly clutching his heart. "I hate you," he declares with a theatrical sigh.

A laugh escapes your lips, and you playfully retort, "No, you don't."

The laughter continues, and the room becomes a sanctuary of shared laughter and affection. The weight of the past months fades into the background, replaced by the promise of new beginnings and the joy of being together once more. In this intimate exchange, the echoes of a love that transcended time resonate, casting aside the shadows that had lingered for far too long.

The air becomes charged with anticipation as San looks into your eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Can I kiss you?" he asks, his voice a soft murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

A warm feeling of affirmation fills your chest, and you respond with a smile, "I’ve only waited sox months." The atmosphere is tinged with a mixture of excitement and a sense of inevitability, as if this moment had been woven into the fabric of destiny.

San leans in, his eyes fluttering closed as he gently presses his lips against yours. It's a sweet, tender kiss that feels like the universe aligning, a culmination of shared experiences, laughter, and the trials you faced together. The world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect moment.

There's a soft, playful energy to the kiss, like a dance between your lips, a silent celebration of the connection that brought you back together. San's hand finds its way to yours, fingers intertwining as if to anchor this moment in time.

The kiss lingers and it's not just a meeting of lips; it's a merging of hearts and souls. When you finally part, there's a shared look that speaks volumes, an unspoken understanding that this connection goes beyond the magical threads that brought you here. It's a kiss that feels like destiny, a promise of more shared moments, and a celebration of a love that transcends the mystical realms you've traversed together.

Perhaps it was destiny after all.

#San #san ateez #ateez #ateez x reader #choi san #san fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez san

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itstheghostofmypast · 1 month

Text

Meow (Ch-4)

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: He had spent an entire millennia in solitude, waiting for her to come back to him, bearing this curse that was a constant reminder of his ignorance, his mistake, and his guilt. He had forgotten how fate had always been cruel to him, punishing him for all he had done, and so be it, meeting her in the 21st century should have brought him joy- there was only one problem, his love for her may not have decreased a drop, but she may love Poofy more than she ever loved him.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 15k

Est Read Time: 1 hr 15 min

Warnings: death of a major character, abuse, war, PTSD.

Rating: Mature

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Masterlist I Chp-3

He watched her walk out of the room, making sure to close it behind her, giving him some form of space, though he could hear the way she let out a sigh, so she was still afraid- no, perhaps uneasy at best. Well, he did leave some impression on her, invading her home, taking up her private quarters for two weeks, having her take care of him, such carelessness, San, it was not like you to burden such a delicate flower- visibly scoffing at the train of thought he huffed, laying back down as his head collided with the soft pillow breaking the blow, honestly, he had wanted it to hit hard enough to knock him out, for the way the Moon had fated him with a human was as exhausting as the time she had blessed him to be the protector of this land. However, he now preferred the latter any day. The more important and disturbing question that lingered at the back of his mind was the fact that neither of his brothers had looked for him during this time. Well, usually, he wouldn't let them wander around alone, especially in unknown areas that Yunho had not mapped, but he did feel like they could've sent the wolves to look for him. Or maybe they did and he didn't know? What if they couldn't find him?

The door slid open, causing him to close his eyes, and pretend he was asleep, he was still cautious of her, she had yet to prove her innocence. She may have been only taking care of him to gain a favour or his trust, only to exploit him later, or worse, ambush him, betray him, shattering the heart that had now begun beating for her- oh this was going to be a problem, he huffed, trying to keep his eyes closed and expressions relaxed.

She walked in with the tray, mindful of her robes, glad she had worn the light pastels with the gold highlights, a good first impression is important. Making her way around the bed she placed the tray on the small table, turning to face him, only to find him asleep.

"Oh...my, he must still be tired," she whispered, leaning closer to expect the damage, her original plan was to change the bandages after he finished eating, but since he was asleep now, she could just do it whenever he woke up. Her ears picked up his little huff, eyes flickering from his shoulder to his face, was he in some form of pain? Shifting ever so slightly she moved a bit closer, closer to his head, with deft fingers she brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes, noting the shift of expression when she gently carded her fingers through his hair, actually she was trying to aim for his kitty ears, but she needed to take it slow.

He bit his lower lip at the gesture, trying to control himself, his body had begun to respond to her actions, it was no longer following his will and that scared him. He knew that around your other half instinct would often take over but she was not aware of their 'fated relationship', what if he ended up losing complete control and giving into his desires, one which were infatuated by his heart and burning passion for her. Perhaps he should open his eyes and scare her away again, the further she stayed the bet- a loud purr emitted from his throat, causing his eyes to snap open as she froze, fingers still in his hair, giving him a sheepish smile- though the fear swirling in her eyes almost gave her away- almost.

"What...are you doing?" A strained whisper broke past his lips, finally shattering the silence as he tried to even out his breathing, his purrs growing louder when she began to scratch below his ear, petting him like a cat, "My apologies...but you have really cute ears...Poofy."

Clearing her throat she slowly pulled back, praying to the Moon that he did not notice her flushed face, truth be told she had never laid eyes on a man more beautiful, so alluring and charismatic. He intrigued her, made her turn back to the curious little girl she was, the same girl who found Yuyu hiding behind the bushes at their home, who brought Yuyu to meet her mother and forced him to become her playmate- but there was something different about Poofy, the way his piercing gaze lingered on her, she could feel the way he was scanning her, sizing her up, drinking in her presence when she had first introduced herself, it was...different.

He gripped her wrist whilst she was about to pull back, maintaining eye contact, admiring the way her face was near his, pretty sure with a tug he'd have her fall on top of him- perhaps another time. Slowly bringing her hand back to his head he placed his hand on top of her, letting out a quiet purr before closing his eyes, "You may proceed, tiny human."

Smiling at the gesture, she tried to ignore the tingling sensation of his hand on hers, he was so warm, she'd never really held hands with anyone before- technically this wasn't holding hands, well in a sense, oh god, this intimacy was going to driver her insane. Was it common for his kind to be this physical, Yuyu would always hold her hand too, well then, Yuyu was Yuyu, he was different, he was sweet and playful, and he was one of the few important people in her life- was.

That night she found herself sitting on the futon, back pressed against the wall, her fingers in his hair, playing with the strands, caressing his ears, with his head in her lap- truth be told she didn't remember how or when he'd way onto her lap. Still, he was snuggling closer and his loud, soothing purrs were lulling her to sleep, it had been long since sleep had come to her on its own, often she'd need to drink her sleep-inducing drops, prescribed to her ever since that day, without them she would lay on her cold, large bed for hours, listening to the silence, letting the bitter reality of her meaningless existence prick at her bones, tempting her to take matters in her own hands often. Still, then she would remember the promise, too afraid to take any action that might ruin the chances of her ever reuniting with Yuyu. Her fingers danced across his hair as she looked down at him only to find him staring back at her, causing her breath to him, he was...so...shameless, not an ounce of unease swirling within his brown orbs, staring up at her shamelessly, like he had every right to do so, he was doing it again, he was trying to read her, study her. She didn't want to break eye contact, but she was amazed and appalled by his audacity, the proximity and intimacy had her heart hammering against her ribs, bouncing around, yet, he was so calm, so relaxed and so warm, her eyes flickered to his lips, not wanting to look at him anymore, only to notice his lips slightly quirk upwards, before he spoke, "You think a lot, tiny human, your thoughts keep you awake and they're keeping me awake."

"You really are rude, Poofy." She huffed, only to squeak when he nuzzled his face in her lap, trying to push him off but he glanced at her, "Is this how you treat your patient, Princess of the East?"

Princess? She never told him- how? What?

"How do you...know?" She whispered, only for him to sigh, reaching for her hand that had stopped on his head, gently shaking it causing her to jerk out of her daze, she never knew she stopped it, only to start again when he sighed sleepily, "A conversation for tomorrow, Princess of the East, for now, tend to my wounds."

She could only shake her head in response, he really was something else, so closed off yet so clingy, like they had known each other for millennia, maybe if they had, things might have been different for her, for Yuyu, for her mother.

The Moon really did give her another Poofy.

The next morning, she had woken up by a loud snore, eyes snapping open at the volume, how could someone snore so loud- oh heavens. Her face warmed up at the thought of it, unfortunately, she couldn't even blame the sun, squinting at the light as she made her down the vast field. With her basket in hand, she was busy making her way to the other end of the field, near the trees, in need of some willow catkins, his wound was healing but the inflammation was still there, which is why she had made her way out of the cabin early in the morning, well because of that and the fact that if she had continued to lay on top of his chest, she would have combusted- not only was it extremely unladylike of her do to so, she has no memory of snuggling up next to him, all she remembered was him falling asleep in her lap and she had rested her head against the wall, closing her eyes for just a second.

A rustle from behind the bushes had her freezing up, she slowly turned her head to glance at whatever hid behind, only to let out a small squeak when a giant brown bear slowly walked out, though his eyes bore a form of gentleness she had barely seen before. She had no plans of getting mulled by a bear today, so she followed what all the books on survival she had read taught her, stay still, and pray to the Moon that the beast lose interest in her and leave. Though after ten minutes of standing there, unmoving she felt the sudden urge to sneeze- oh no. With an ungraceful sneeze, she fell backwards, the flowers cushioning her fall but before her, the bear stalked towards her slowly, and like the scared little girl she was deep down inside she sat there, closing her eyes, hoping it’d be quick. Though it never came, cracking open an eye she found its head stuffed in her basket, and that’s all it took for her to decide that this was the best time to escape.

Slamming open the door to the cabin she ran inside, not even bothering to close it, only glancing behind her to make sure it wasn't following her, then colliding with another body, with a squeak followed by a loud thud she gasped, pushing herself up on her hands, only to come face to face with a frown.

"I admire your brave advances Princess, but I believe I am not your type." He smirked, fingers twitching to grab hold of her, though he held himself back. Truth be told he had been looking for her as soon as he had woken up, and although he couldn't find her, he had decided to do something else, snoop around.

Unfortunately, if one were to break in, they'd find nothing out of the ordinary, other than the fact that this belonged to a peasant, a peasant woman, which is why mid-searching his goal had changed, to find all the places someone could break in from, especially given the knowledge that a woman lived here alone. This was not a safe arrangement for any woman, let alone one of her statures. Eleven, in total there were eleven places within this cabin where someone could break in, he needed to talk to her about it.

Apologising she slowly moved off him, only to lay on the floor, trying to calm herself down as she stared at the ceiling, lying next to him, she was too scared even to register his joke, too scared to ask him how he was feeling or how he had even moved? There were no bears in this part of the forest, hell, there were almost no predators in this part of the kingdom, that's why they had moved her here right? Not only because they wanted her to stay away from political matters but because it was safe too, right? They'd never...harm her?

He sat up quietly, turning his head to find her blankly staring at the ceiling, well, he could hear the little voices, squeaking around, but he was unable to make out any form of coherency, perhaps he still had a lot to learn from Hongjoong and Yeosang, the two could read thoughts, probably knit a whole gown with them and the person wouldn't have picked up on it- if he had actually listened to Hongjoong's lectures he could've plucked out these thoughts feeding off her life force, draining her serotonin- alas, that was not a trait he possessed and using words was always a quality possessed by Yunho or Wooyoung, but if he were to try...for her...just for her- wait, why should he try for her, what has she ever done other than saving him? More importantly, she is a mere mortal and royalty at that, a proper, spoiled, pompous and arrogant creature, of course, she would be no different from those who had visited their temple, demanding the land and its beauty- pitiful creatures of ignorance, starting a war to take back what was never there's, this false sense of power than consumes them disgusted him, they disgusted him and she disgusted- his eyes flickered to meet her meek gaze, to notice the rosy hue spreading across her cheeks, licking her lips as she sat up, staring at him, before mumbling, "Are you...hurting, Poofy? You're scowling?"

Truth be told she had stopped thinking about her family problems as soon as he had gotten up, somewhat proud of her medicinal skills, he was healing and he was healing quickly, sure, his supernatural powers had helped speed up the process but she was glad that she could be of use, of use to someone at least. Another new occurring issue however was the way he'd look at her, his eyes would be so serious and cold, a story untold swirling within his dark orbs that were often fixed on her face, her form and perhaps even her soul, but that never scared her, because with this cold stare accompanied a pout, one that would have her giggling inside, she had never seen a man so masculine yet so...cute?

"I'm..." he tried to focus on the distant noise radiating from her, but it had begun to fade away, he had noticed this the first time she had introduced herself to him, every time she'd be sitting quietly the noise would grow in volume and frequency, often resembling the shrieks and howls of the demon fleets he fought off with his brothers at the brink of dawn, the trials the Moon had put them through to prove their worth, which is why he was often like this around her, though he could feel no ounce of satanic residue off her, what was more concerning how when she would become to converse with him, they'd quickly disappear into nothingness. Instead, he'd be staring at a warm, calm presence, just carefree in motion and living, much like how he noticed about the field sunflowers, swaying side to side as the wind would lovingly caress them, easing away all their frustration and worries, leaving them to look up at the sun and bask in its glory, just like that she'd smile at him, as tranquil as the summer sea, waiting patiently for him to speak his mind, "I'm just a bit hungry, Princess. "

That is exactly how the War Chief found himself back on the futon, in front of him a table filled with food for him, though he eyed her coming and leaving the room with more food only for him to grab hold of her wrist when she was placing a cup of juice, "Either eat with me or stop bringing more food."

She flinched at the contact, something he noticed but didn’t react to, nor did he loosen his grip, only tugged her down, making her sit near him. Clearing her throat she slowly moved to increase the distance between the two, but sat there with her hands on her lap, looking at him eat quietly, “Is it good?” she asked, trying to strike up a conversation, she had begun to follow her mother’s recipes, although no one at home would eat them, which is why she wanted his opinion, perhaps she could be able to make food like her mother did, the same food that attracted Yuyu to their palace.

“I haven’t had meat this tender in a while,” he cleared his throat, putting down the chopsticks, “I’ve been on my own for months, making rounds of dark patches, so I cook whatever I can hunt or just have a small snack,” turning to look at her quizzical look he sighed, “Dark patches are concealed areas, after the great war the earth was divided up, land was sectioned, our maps were rendered useless, now there are three types of territories-

“Oh, I know that.” She cut him off before quickly covering her mouth, dipping her head as an apology, “My apologies, please continue, that was out of my place.”

True, she knew, she had a lot of knowledge about the kingdom, before and after the great war, but the war had happened centuries before she was born, though she could read, her mother had taught her how to, and she could write as well, a quality her father disapproved off, especially after she had begun to show interest in the way the kingdom worked, from political matters to military actions. Truth be told, the war had always fascinated her, to think the human army had fought off the beasts that roamed the land freely, she too much like everyone else had believed them to be beasts, ones cursed by the Moon, even though her mother had often convinced her how that was untrue, she did not believe her mother’s claims and chose to believe what her ancestors and her father both talked about, how the beasts were pure barbarians that destroyed all that came in their way, or at least she thought she believed it till she had met Yuyu. Unfortunately, she was now afraid that her sudden interest would offend him, having him dismiss her like her father or brothers did, that very thought led her to bow deeper, an apology at the tip of her tongue but he cut her off.

“What are you doing, Princess?” he asked, out of genuine curiosity, this little human was definitely interesting, the Moon had really searched hard to find a cracked nut for him- so much for being the Moon’s favourite, “Why are you apologising? It has been long since I’ve met a human who knew about the history of the world, continue, I want to know if what you know is closer to the truth or have you been fed by the corrupted version?”

She peaked up from her lashes, noticing how he gave her a reassuring smile, before slowly sitting up straight, clearing her throat, unsure if he was serious, or not, but deciding to continue anyway, “Centuries ago, the land was split into three portions; man, beasts and demons. Humans were well, normal and unimportant, mortal beings such as me, we were at the bottom of the food chain, not directly linked to the Moon, but were under her supervision nonetheless, for she loves all the living equally,” he smirked at her statement, well, she did love the living, but he was definitely her favourite, “then came the two who were either cursed by the Moon or blessed, originally, human scriptures held the truth about the two clans, the Lurkers, those who were cursed by the Moon, often man or beast turned into Lurkers, they held within them essence of dark magic and were fuelled with the same passion of demons, and then the second clan was on top of the pyramid, the beasts, also…known as the guardians, such as yourself, you were blessed by the Moon, given traits similar to an animal that became your spirit, I knew one who was a canine, back then he was a puppy, I know not who or what he is now and …you’re the second guardian I’ve met.” She smiled at him, proud when looked at her with a look of sheer surprise, truth be told he was impressed by her knowledge, which pushed her to continue her little history lessons, “Now our scriptures hold lies, truthfully I used to believe them, choosing to ignore my mother’s stories, she had knowledge of the original scriptures hidden in the palace, our current scriptures claim how the beasts and Lurkers attacked humans, but the truth is that the Lurkers and humans worked together to bring down the guardians to take their lands and they almost did, until they turned on each other, the guardians used this as an advantage, they say that day the sun and the Moon stood together in the vast sky, the two dragons, lunar and solar guided and protected their armies below, one that was led by the Canidae, one that was led by the Ursidae, and one that was led by Felidae- they say the Felidae was the strongest batch, led by a giant black beast, its fur was as dark as the silent, deadly sky but its golden eyes were as bright as the piercing sun, some say it resembled a panther, that day the guardians won, but once again chose to honour the Moon’s decision of choosing them as the guardians, putting forth the request of showing mercy upon the Lurkers and the humans, so the humans were banished from certain areas, though they held more land now, and the Lurkers were…cursed into becoming goblins.”

She looked up from her hands to face him, to only squeak at how close he had moved to her, he was very much in her personal space, and again, instead of letting her move back, he gently pinched her chin, forcing her to face him as he studied her, “Tell me, princess, you know so much about us, yet you were afraid at the sight of another guardian today?” Her face contorted at his statement, she had met no other guardian today she had met no one else at all, no one but the bear- a small gasp escaped her lip as her curious eyes met his mischievous gaze, letting her pull his hand away as she gripped his wrist, whispering, “The…bear…but how did you know I met…someone?”

He let her hold onto his hand, somewhat surprised by how she didn’t pull back, perhaps she had not realised it, usually, she’d pull back like she was repelled by his presence, “I saw you leave with a basket, you came back empty handed and scared, the look in your eyes was not one held by a woman being chased by a man, I have saved many women as such as usually they are in fear of those bastards following them, you were not which meant it was a creature you thought was not smart enough.”

“Oh my…” letting go of his hands she covered her face with her hands, letting out a shaky breath, mumbling to herself, “What if they think I’ve done something to you- I was so scared, usually no animals come around here, the East is covered with the forest, but no actual animal life, if you have noticed, so I- especially not predators such as that- I am so sorry, maybe I should’ve talked to it-

He cut her off by pealing her hands off her face as he held her cold hands in his warmer, larger hands, “Who was it?”

“A…bear.”

“You met…” he paused for a moment, eying her, he still didn’t trust her enough to let her in, soulmate or not, that issue was still to be decided, “Jong,” he decided not to tell her his real name either, “ that is his animal spirit, I believe they sent him to look for me, as you know I was out cold for two weeks, before that, I had been out on my own for months, but I would send letters often.”

“I see.” She sighed, only to realise he was holding her hands, clearing her throat as she slipped out of his grasp, she got up, only to trip off his tail and squeak as she fell onto his lap, glaring at the way he smirked at her, truth be told he was still put off by the fact that she was a human, but her knowledge about the truth may have peaked his interest, that and the cute reactions she’d give when he’d tease her were of clear amusement.

“Very funny,” she huffed trying to move but he wrapped his arms, around her, making her squirm, “S-stop, this is in-inappropriate!”

“Aww, but I thought you liked sleeping on my chest” he chuckled, before it turned into a boisterous laugh at the way she whined, pushing off him trying to hide her blushing face. Ironically it was not her who had snuggled up against him the previous night, but when he had woken up, he had noticed the uncomfortable position she was asleep in, sitting there with his head on her lap, which is why he had helped her lie down, only to end up staring the futon with her, but her constant whimpering and small cries had him wrapping his arms around her, forcing the bitter thoughts away, trying to follow the method taught by Yeosang, to pluck away all the negative thoughts and memories, at least temporarily so she could sleep in peace, he was mindful enough to not interfere with her memories, choosing to respect her privacy, her past was a secret only for her to hold, he knew and respected that.

He let go of her, laughing when she mumbled how annoying she was, and declaring her exit with a, “You need to rest, I’ll clean everything up.” For a princess, she sure did live a domestic life. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, watching her stack up the dishes, taking in her side profile, he’d be lying if he were to say she was not one of the most beautiful creatures he had laid his eyes upon, perhaps the most beautiful human for sure- or was this feeling a result of her being his other half?

“Poofy?”

“Hmmm?” his eyes locked with hers, taking in the insecurities swirling within her gaze.

“You- you won’t disappear right?”

He took a moment to process her question, watching how she bit her lip, staring no longer at him but at his tail, then at the plates. Perhaps he took a minute too long because as soon as the silence began to grow, she cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice steady and gave him a small smile, “Forget what I asked- I’ll go bring your ointment-

“I will not.”

The way his words cut her off had her expressions relax, her typical faux smile turning into a thin line, as she stared at him, trying to take in any signs of insincerity, but she could find none, or perhaps he was too good at hiding them. At the back of their minds, both knew he had to go, she had no idea about ‘the one’ and he had yet to decide if he deemed her worthy to be her other half, even if the Moon had dedicated her to him.

“You- seriously you lost her?” Hongjoong sighed, looking up from another scroll to find the man staring at the floor, acting all guilty, of course, he did not tell his king how he had gotten distracted by the catkins in the basket she had left behind.

“I fear Jongho needs a good beating.” They heard a little chirp, causing the youngest to roll his eyes, and snap back, “I lost her because she has no scent you fool.”

That statement led Yeosang to look up from his book and finally speak up, "What do you mean?" He asked the youngest, every individual had a personal scent, perhaps she was masking hers somehow, "Was it masked?"

Jongho shook his head, tossing the basket to Yunho who caught it, staring at the weaved basket, trying to find any traces of her, but he couldn't, odd, he clearly remembered her having a particular sweet scent as a child, one that had lured him to him- like of sugar syrup.

Mumbling something to himself Yeosang walked out of the chambers, leaving the rest confused, though Seonghwa sighed, before looking at Hongjoong warily, "I told you she's no good, we don't even know what condition he's in, what if he's hurting? What if she's torturing information out of him?"

"CAN YOU PLEASE STOP! THIS IS PURE TORTURE!"

He wailed, causing her to roll her eyes at him, ignoring him as she spread the ointment, snorting when he hissed like a cat at her. "How can someone as big as you cry like a child? It barely even stings." She chuckled, pulling her hand back when he sat up and glared at her, resting on his right elbow, "How can someone as pretty as you cause so much pain?" He finished before his cheeks flushed at his confession, eyes meeting hers for a split second before both averted their gaze, he cleared his throat and laid back down quietly, while she continued to spread the ointment on the healing stitches.

"I-I'll be gentle..." she whispered, not looking at anywhere but the stitches, though she felt him relax under her touch, earning a meek, uncharacteristic, "Thank you."

Yeosang slid the door open with such force that everyone in the room felt the tremors within the wall, "Look." He huffed, walking in, his blonde locks shining, emitting a warm glow - it had been a while since they'd seen his aura, watching him in his angelic glow, this was either good news or perhaps horrible news.

He walked up to the center of the room and placed a plant pot on the table, painted purple, it was San's. The once dirt-filled pot now had a little sunflower standing in the centre, its small petals glowing, much like the healer, "That's why you can't find her scent," he turned to Jongho, but much like everyone else the youngest was staring at the tiny flower in awe, the bittersweet reality seeping in, San had found his other half, and she was human.

"She...oh." Seonghwa's eyes snapped up at Yunho, taking in his defeated look, an irritable feeling bubble within him, San and Yunho had a stupid, juvenile bet, which one of the two would find a soulmate first, to be their 'one', although he never assumed San's one would be linked with Yunho, wonders of fate were still above her comprehension. Nonetheless, this foolish cat and dog race may prove to be troublesome.

"Wooyoung" his voice boomed, even Hongjoong felt the intensity of his thoughts, something was bothering Seonghwa, it had been for a while, not only did he send San to a dark patch without backup, but he had been the first one to notice his lack of letters as well, what was he looking for? Truth be told, although both the king and his advisors were dragons, one with the heart of the dear Moon and the other with the heart of the mighty sun, he never understood Seonghwa well enough to pick up on his little side quests, to him he was a mystery, much like the endless sky.

"Hmm?" He perked up at the call of his name, looking away from the little flower to the eldest, taking note of his glowing eyes, before letting out a tired sigh, "Fine, I'll go look for him..." he turned around though the firm grip on his shoulder had him wince as he mumbled an, "And talk to him."

Washing the last dish, she placed it on the rack, shaking the water off her hands before staring outside through the window, sighing as she welcomed the cool breeze, she loved nights like these, not a cloud in sight, only the stars twirling around their mother, the Moon, all watching down on her, keeping her safe, keeping her sane.

Sighing she leaned against the sink, thinking back to how Poofy had called her pretty. Truth be told, she was often complimented on her looks, though most compliments seemed superficial, either trying to appeal to her father or for some political agenda, though both were completely pointless, for her father she held no worth, she was useless, and in terms of political control- well, she wouldn't be sent to this cabin out in the middle of nowhere if she were of any use or value, now would she? She was called pretty by only one other person before, Yuyu, and although she had felt the depth of his statement, felt the admiration, what she felt today was different- the way her heart had fluttered around in the cage of her bones, she felt her entire face warm up, and she knew for a fact that her hands were shaking after that statement, especially against his skin. He had decided not to speak to her after that, perhaps a guardian such as himself wanted nothing more with a mortal like her- technically he too was not immortal, sure he was centuries old but guardians too had a lifespan, only the longest out of the three species. Even when she had whispered how she was finished, he only quietly thanked her before looking the other way and mumbling, "I would like to rest, leave tiny human." He had stopped calling her Princess as well, she really did wonder why.

He lay there staring at the ceiling, the embarrassing memory of his confession flashing before his eyes, causing him to jerk himself back to reality and hiss in anger. On a serious note, he couldn’t believe he let it slip, it was just so out of the blue, especially when she was teasing him, her growing confidence around her was somewhat causing his self-control to slip out of his grasp and although he was somewhat enjoying it, he could not give himself the leverage of this love for two reasons; she was a mortal, she would grow old and would need constant companionship, as a War Chief who was also a guardian, he was always busy, always gone for war or for mapping quests, he could not provide her with the constant love and affection she...deserved? Or could she provide him with the undying devotion and time he was entitled to- though deep down he knew the only issue was the time given to them, not the love, if she was giving him her attention when they were mere strangers, perhaps she would shower him with more. The second and more pressing matter was that she was royalty, human royalty and humans had an innate sense of selfishness rooted within them, so what guarantee did he have that she would not leave him for another more powerful or she would not deceive him? Would she not be more loyal to her own kind? Her own father? Her siblings or even her nation, if she were to attain the throne. She had the wisdom and knowledge, and with a few years of grooming, she'd be fit to take the throne. With a huff he turned his side, taking in a deep breath but he instantly regretted it, she had laid here beside him the night earlier, her scent was all over the place, and his pillow was the epicentre at the moment- shit.

"Ow." She hissed, putting the needle down, apparently, the embroidery was harder than she expected, that and the giant slash in his vest left by the dagger was more of a nuisance. Frankly, she was surprised how he never asked for where his clothes went, not his vest or coat, now that she got a closer look she could see the small crest imprinted right below the collar at the back of the coat, an infinity symbol, with a diamond on the centre- was this real?

A little chirp caught her ear, followed by the nearby rustling of leaves. Usually, she wouldn't sit out on the porch, but the weather was just perfect tonight, and his constant, loud snores kept on reminding her of his alluring presence. Placing the vest on her lap she looked around, the few lit lanterns were not enough to show her what lay beyond the porch, normally she was afraid of the slightest of sound, any and everything would scare her, the dark, the violent wind, any storm passing by would have her shivering under the covers, especially when she was sent away to the cabin for long periods, such as this, it was never a pleasant experience, but then ever since he had arrived, it would feel as if the sun had finally decided to step out from behind the looming, dark clouds that were slowly suffocating her, as if she finally had something to turn to, to look up to, to bask in the glory of someone so warm, someone so soft, someone so safe, someone so - another chirp had her stand up, and slowly walk towards the end of the porch, stepping onto the final step before she'd touch the dirt path, a lantern in hand.

"Wh-who is it?" She called out, only to be met with silence, "I- are you...one of them?" She asked again, at this point she didn't know who she was calling out, but something at the back of her mind kept reminding her that it didn't matter because he'd come to rescue her, the Moon would bear witness to that.

Something moved beside her causing her to squeak, and move the lantern towards the source, only to find a pair of golden glowing eyes, her breath hitched as she took a step back, only to realise it was a fox. She had never seen one up close, a small gasp escaped her and she moved closer, before stopping when it flinched, emitting a growl, only for her to clear her throat, "I-I won't hurt you...are you...are you here for Poofy?"

At the name the fox visibly looked confused, she could even make out the small frown he had, his tail tapping against the dirt, only for her to chuckle, "He won't tell me his real name, I need to know if you're actually one of them or an animal- I don't want to disturb him otherwise."

The fox moved closer and she froze, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Her worries died down when she felt him boop his wet nose against her hand, ducking his head so she could pet his head, which led her to giggle. "Wow, your fur is really soft" she mused, making sure to scratch behind his ear, which led his tail to tap faster, "You're really affectionate, aren't you? Poofy didn't even let me pet him for around three weeks of being here."

The fox pulled back and looked at her then at the cabin, letting out a chirp, he moved to slowly push her with his head causing her to gasp, "So pushy, all right, all right. I'll go get him." With that, she picked up her things and turned to give the waiting pretty fox one last look, before going inside.."Poofy?" She knocked before entering the room, making her way into the dark room, rolling her eyes at the sound of his snores, he was one heavy sleeper. Moving closer she reached for his head, slowly scratching below his ear, causing him to purr, stirring awake when she leaned closer to whisper, "Poofy, your friend is here to see you."

Cracking open an eye he whined, "Who is it?"

"A fox."

"Stay here." Instantly he sat up, causing her to yelp and fall back on her behind, looking up at him in utter shock, "What? Why? I thought-"

"No." He leaned closer, before grabbing her face, squishing her cheeks lightly, enough for her to whine and try to push his hand away.

"Have you forgotten what state you found me in? Hmmm, Princess, when you found not a cat, but a man on your bed?" His smirk deepened at the way her eyes widened at his question, face flushing at the flashback of how when she had come to check up on the cat the next morning, she had almost screamed at the top of her lungs, on her bed lay a man in the nude- oh.

"Mhmmm, now be a good little princess and stay here." With that he let go only for her to cover her face with her hands, whining and complaining about bringing up a topic she had not touched on purpose, she had been trying to avoid it, even going as far as stealing one of her brother's pants for him- though she had to mend it, turns out guardians are bigger in size than an average man.

Closing the front door behind him he stepped out, his bare feet padding across the wooden porch, only to stop at the top of the three staired staircase, staring at the fox sitting at the opposite end.

"Took you all long enough." He huffed before tossing a sheet at the fox, watching it land on its head, only for it to chirp and whine, shaking it off, before looking up at the man with some sort of guilt- the foxie face as he'd say, a much better look than the puppy dog face, most would agree.

"Put that on, nobody wants to see a naked Wooyong."

"Especially her? Hmm, Poofy?"

A pleasant smile graced his features as his brother stood where the fox once stood, tying the sheet around his lower half all tight, though San would've preferred if he had draped it over himself completely, he had brought a fairly large sheet, there was no need to show skin.

"Especially her."

Wooyoung let out a giggle, "So it's true, she really is the one, huh?" He smiled, though it soon morphed into a frown at the way his brother was staring at the Moon, "What's wrong, Sannie?"

Typical Wooyoung, to delay the task handed down to him, only to deal with the emotional turmoil his brothers were going through, perhaps that is why the Moon had assigned him with the role of a subordinate and not a leader of any kind, though he was more than happy to take it, nature had always been his companion and he would happily spend his days lounging around in the sun, rolling around in the grass or even dipping into the crystal cool lake for a swim than being part of any other war.

Sighing he walked closer to his brother, gesturing for him to follow. The two had begun to walk down the dirt path, into the very sunflower field where she had found him, on the brink of death. They needed to have the conversation away from the cabin, away from prying ears. "She is...but she is human...and she is royalty, a princess. She possesses the knowledge about the truth, but...I fear I- she might betray us, all humans do and-'

"Is that all you fear, San?" The younger one asked, turning to a sunflower, admiring the way nature worked, the sunflowers here were bigger, the head of the flower was as big as his hand, while the flower in San's pot was still small, was it to grow and bloom when their love would too?

"I," pausing for a moment he shook his head, "Of course, that's all, humans have been a source of worry and perhaps this is only a test the Moon has given me, to check if I can resist and stay steadfast to her truth."

"Then why haven't you come back yet?"

His question caught him off guard, watching the younger one with a look of scepticism, what was he implying, "Are you...questioning my loyalty, Wooyoung?"

"No, but I need to know why you are pretending to be sick, your tail and your ears, this is all for show, isn't it? I don't think it would take a War Chief, The War Chief of the Guardian Army, blessed by both the Moon and her brother the Sun, more than a month to heal, now would it Sannie?" He turned to look at the taller man, listening to the silence around them, on his way here he had noticed how no other life form but flora existed, no animals or insects, none, it was unnatural, it was as if a certain presence was keeping them away and he was sure this had been happening long before San had arrived, he was also sure that San had noticed this, but chose to ignore it. Within a second his nails morphed into claws, stabbing into the large sunflower, instantly earning a growl from the man in front of him, "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" With that he ripped off the head, turning to look at the growling beast only to be tackled by him onto the ground as his grip tightened around the damaged flower, while the latter squeezed his throat, hissing at him, "Don't hurt the flowers."

"Why?"

"You know why!" His grip tightened as he yelled.

"She knows Yunho."

Immediately his grip loosened, slowly moving off him, features morphing back to a calm state, "What?" He breathed out, thinking back to how Yunho, when he was a mere healing pup, would escape from the temple, coming to the human world where he had befriended a human girl, for a long time he'd claim this human was his other half, though all of them would dismiss the thought, passing it off as a joke.

"She....come home Sannie, Seonghwa is calling for you, talk to Yunho, sort it out, I-" his fingers loosened the grip on the flower, "There's a sunflower growing in your pot...Yeosang wants to see you to- they're all worried about you, I'm worried about you." He sat up, staring at his brother who was sitting on his knees, staring up at the Moon, he was about to call him again, until he noticed the way his shoulders were trembling, and how he was biting his lip, trying to contain the overflow of emotions, of the confusion and frustration."Let's go home, Sannie."

"Poofy?" She sighed, slowly sitting up, and looking around the room. The sunlight blocked by the curtains was the only way she realised how late she had slept for- wait she was in her bed? Pushing the covers off her she stumbled out of the room into the small hall, "Poofy?" Calling out once more she looked around the cabin, before walking out barefoot, slamming the door open and onto the porch, squinting at the sudden increase in brightness, the sun sure was happy today.

"POOFY?!"

Her calls were becoming more frantic, more desperate, her small steps turning into sprints as she ran down the sunflower field, calling out his name. He couldn't leave like that, he said he wouldn't, also he wasn't healed yet! He was still sick and- she stopped at the sight of her sheet on the ground, a shaky breath escaping her as she knelt down to pick it up, only to spot a crushed sunflower head next to it. Her gut twisted at the sight of the poor flower, reaching for it instead as she cradled it in her hands, looking at it with blurry eyes, whimpering out a quiet, "There, there, you're safe now, you're not hurting anymore, you're loved."

"You can stop kneeling you know-"

"No. Let him, it's his punishment after all." Seonghwa scoffed from his seat, eying the way their king was pitying the overgrown, spoiled, obnoxious cat- not once did this foolish child think of how worried he was. How he was worried he was hurt, lost or worse, no instead, he was busy trying to mingle with a human-

"Since when did Seonghwa get the throne?" A deep chuckle resonated in the room, causing the youngest to raise his head off the floor, giving him a small smile, though the healer earned a scoff from the advisor.

"Sit up, lover boy, we need to talk." He said patting his shoulder as he placed the purple pot on the table that divided Hongjoong and San. Taking a seat on the cushioned floor beside the War Chief, "So, explain yourself, though I'd skip the erotic detai-"

"Nothing as such happened, Sangie." San quickly cut him off trying to ignore the way the king was now frowning at him, "I swear I didn't do anything- we didn't do anything!" He clarified quickly, "I'm not an idiot."

"I doubt that." Seonghwa mumbled causing Hongjoong to interject, "Enough. Please, can we please get to the bottom of this before this gets any more frustrating?"

"Okay, so this," Yeosang moved the pot closer to San, "Is what grew overnight, so, tell me, what happened that this happened overnight and don't lie or hold back important information."

San looked at him and then at Hongjoong who encouraged him to continue, watching how everyone had entered the chambers, including Yunho, though he remained at the back and sitting next to the door quietly. He had been lost in thought since the day they had found out about San's soulmate.

"I was attacked by two of the Xikeys, came out of nowhere." He began only to be interrupted by Mingi, "Two small goblins? They caught u off guard, how?"

"Bet he was staring at a butterfly." Wooyoung snickered, causing the light laughter to resonate, only once it died down they were met with silence, all eyes turning to the War Chief who was staring at his hands, blushing like a tomato.

"For the love of- Demote him. Please." Seonghwa huffed, running his fingers through his silky locks, trying to calm himself down, "Are you serious?"

"I-it was a blue monarch butterfly, it's been so long since I've seen one." He mumbled before pouting at Hongjoong, "There were so many of them, and - and there was no other animal there, like the forest was empty, surrounded by flowers and these butterflies so I was confused about that too, it's awfully silent there."

"He's right." Wooyoung added, only for Jongho to add, "About both things, there are no other animals there and it is deathly silent. What was in that area before the human kingdom took over the land of the East?" He turned to Yunho, all of them, except San, he was still staring ahead, not yet ready to face the map maker.

"I'm not sure, I think it belonged to an old Lurker, Azmer if I remember correctly." He announced, noting how everyone was quietly staring at him, "I'm not sure where San went to particularly, perhaps that area wasn't under his rule, but-"

"Azmer was the only one of the ten Kings of the Lurkers, it's said that he refused to part take in the war because he believed all three nations could live in harmony." He sighed, only to lock eyes with San, who was now staring at him. A playful smirk graced the map maker's face, "What's wrong Sannie? I'm sure she would have told you if you asked her, "What did you learn about her in the past month?"

"Yunho..." Hongjoong warned, picking up at how the feline of the group was growling, turning around in all his pride as he stared at the mapmaker slouching against the wall from his cushioned seat.

"I did not want to learn anything about her-"

"Then why were you still there?" He cut San off, "You don't want her as your other half either, she's been through enough rejections as is and-"

"Funny, she mentioned a puppy who disappeared, I guess you rejected her too." He smirked, observing the way the colour drained from the other's face, frankly, this puppy's smile had been a pain ever since he had come back.

"At least she remembered me."

"Yet, I'm the one she's paired up with-"

"You don't deserve her!"

"And you do, mutt?!"

"ENOUGH"

The hall went quiet, both Wooyoung and Yeosang exchanged a look, then glancing at Hongjoong, who was staring at Seonghwa, his fangs poking out, as he walked towards San and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer, "You were gone for a month, you wasted a month, risked our defence like and learned what? Nothing?" He hissed, feeding off the fear emitting from the younger ones' eyes, as the lunar dragon turned his head to the map maker, "What do you know?" the timber of his voice having Yunho dip his head in obedience, he tossed the War Cheif aside, watching him fall back onto the floor as he reached for the flower pot, fingers caressing the petals before his elongated nail clipped off a petal, earning a whine from the panthers. His emerald orbs flickered towards the Guardian, who was now kneeling once more, bowing to the lunar dragon, "P-please, my liege, do not hurt her." He whispered, his forehead pressing against the carpeted floor, hands fisted beside his head, no pride present within his being, something everyone noticed in the room. The War Chief had been known for his pride and prejudice, yet here he was, begging for - well, he didn't know either, perhaps he was just begging for love, to be loved, to share the ample love he had within him, to feel whatever he'd read about in those little stories he'd read as a kitten.

"Seonghwa..." Hongjoong sighed, noticing his little kitty-cat trembling in all his mountainous glory, though he knew when his brother, the dragon birthed by the Moon, was much softer than he was deep down, though his anger knew no bounds, something the Solar dragon feared.

"Yunho." Hongjoong turned to the map maker when his brother ignored him, not out of spite, but because he was too busy trying to read the man before him, he could sense the inner turmoil, he could tell this fool was holding back, perhaps he too would have done the same in this situation, but he should have been able to see past his emotions, to look at the truth objectively, not to let his emotions get the better of him, San had never neglected his duties, he had never let anything distract him.

"She's....Azmer's granddaughter." Yunho sighed, eying Mingi who gasped but quickly covered it up with a cough- the action had the youngest two choke on a laugh, earning a glare from the green-eyed serpent, quietening them down.

"San, did you...find something odd about her?" He finally asked the man who was still kneeling with his forehead pressed against the floor, it somehow bothered him how readily San was willing to throw away all he had for her, yet he knew nothing about her if he was not devoted to the Moon, he would've said that she had made a mistake, blessing San with an angel in disguise.

"Get up," Seonghwa mumbled before going back to his original spot, against the window, staring out at the setting sun, knowing that Mother would disapprove of him treating his brothers like this, she'd talk about mercy and lecture him about compassion once more.

Sitting up on his knees he placed his hands on his thighs, facing the room, his eyes not meeting a single pair that was on him, "She has nightmares...almost life-like, " he sighed, thinking back to how she was whimpering in her sleep the night she had slept next to him, she would struggle against the sheets, trying to rip out of his grasp when he had tried to calm her down, only to end up using magic to settle her unease, "There are voices, she hears them while she's awake too and they only stop or die down when I speak to her or when she's not sitting in silence....at first I thought I was imagining things, then I thought she was a witch but...they're always around her, it's so noisy, "he mumbled, a wave of guilt splashing over him as his eyes widened for a split second, something noticed by Hongjoong and Yeosang who shared a look.

"What is it San?" Hongjoong asked, leaning closer to the table, "What did you just remember?"

"She..." he turned to look at Yunho, "made me promise...not to disappear."

"She has Lurker blood." Yeosang finally intervened, walking over to where Seonghwa sat, looking out at the pale purple sky before reaching for a scroll on the shelf beside the window, "Lurkers turn the way they are because they are cursed, while the Moon wanted to show them mercy, her brother, the Sun believed they should be punished, so each Lurker is doomed to hear the screams of not only their ancestors but the victims' as well," opening the scroll he placed it on the table to show to Hongjoong, however, everyone had hudled around the king, a small smile gracing the King's lips, regardless of the seriousness of the matter.

San was reading the scroll when he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder, causing him to turn his head and meet Yunho's apologetic gaze, one he returned with a small smile.

"I...had to use the spell you taught him," he turned back to Yeosang who nodded, raising a brow, "Funny, how you said you'd never need it when I was teaching you."

"So, she's a Lurker, stay away from her, or kill her, either way, the king will use her for her own benefit."

The harsh words had the War Chief biting his lip, trying to keep in the growl. Shaking his head Hongjoong finally stood up, and turned to look at his advisor, "Advice that advocates war and violence is not what a king needs, your personal grievances are noted, but San can not deny the path the Moon has chosen for him."

Seonghwa turned to face the king, a scowl gracing his angelic, handsome features, "Fine, my advice is he goes, but as a cat, she should not know he is there. He had his time with her and learnt nothing about her, observe her from afar." With that he stormed out of the chambers, his silk robes tailing behind him, swishing like his actual tail, slamming the door behind him.

San turned to look at the sighing King, only to pout at him when he raised an eyebrow at his War Chief and then the rest of the council, "All of you, prepare for San's quest- and please do not do anything that would put us or.... her at risk."

Taking in the fresh air he sighed, his elbows resting against the window sill as he looked far ahead at the forest below, the Moon watching him from above. Truthfully, he had missed his room, his soft bed and covers, his personal space- but oddly enough he missed the small futon of her more, his softer bedding was not warm enough, it did not carry her scent or her warmth, his room seemed too big for him now, too bland and empty. Seonghwa was right however, he knew nothing about her, but how knowledgeable she was, well informed, well, she could stitch and sew, she knew how to cook and clean, she even knew how to create her own medicine- she was very soft as well, warm too, her skin felt so cold against his, like the cool splash of water in the burning heat, was this enough to claim he knew her though?

A knock on the door had him turn from his place of brooding, watching it open as a familiar face stepped in, with a smile, in his hand he carried a plate of apples, "Yeosang said these are special, he grew them in his garden with Jongho, they'll help replenish your strength. "

With pursed lips he nodded at the taller man, gesturing towards the small table at the other end of the room before turning back to look outside.

Yunho sighed at the way he was ignoring him, honestly, there was a point when these two were inseparable, but perhaps as they grew older, the feline turned more quiet, more reserved, perhaps even more shy than he claimed not to be, Yunho was the opposite however, the mapmaker was completely different. Ever since he was a young pup, he’d be adventuring around and about, even when they were mere children, young soldiers of their respective armies. Hongjoong did say they were different because Yunho belonged to his army, the Solar Dragon, while San was part of the Lunar Serpent’s fleet.

“Why did you leave her?”

His question caught the mapmaker off guard, having him quietly stand next to the man, closing his eyes when he felt the win caress through his hair lovingly, truth be told he loved nights like these, cloudless nights where the Moon would shine bright on them, watching their every move with her tender love.

“I…had no choice.” He whispered, opening his eyes to look ahead at the endless sea of dark green, the forest, the land that was under Hongjoong’s kingdom was more than what the Lurkers and the humans had combined.

“What do you mean?” San asked, turning to face him, trying to take in more information, perhaps to find something that would ease his guilt, “She looked…she feels…is it because she still likes-

“She never liked me Sannie,” he turned to him with a small smile, “Never like that, otherwise her little flower wouldn’t be grown in your pot.”

“I didn’t mean to-

“I know,” he cut off the feline, who was somewhat ashamed to look at him as if he had taken what belonged to the pup, “I know you didn’t, I never doubted that. When I had met her, she hit me with a stick, right over here.” He pointed at the top of his head, “I was growling at her before that- she was a real menace you know, the eldest of the four siblings, she was supposed to attain the throne after her father…”

“I don’t think she’s getting it now though, they’ve tossed her into this cabin…no one even comes to check up on her- she’s all alone, where is her mother?” he sighed, walking towards the table he sat down on a cushion, picking up a golden apple, Jongho and Yeosang had been trying for a while, to grow the ancient golden apple of health.

“She…passed away, a few days after I stopped visiting her.” He rubbed his palms together, walking over to sit opposite to him, taking an apple of his own, “When I met her, she followed the same story her father had told her, she was a vile child, I actually met them by accident, my paw was stuck in the fence and I first thought she had come to help me out, but she stood there with a stick, pointed at me and,” snorting he split the apple in half, eying how San was listening to him intently, like a curious kitty, “She ‘ordered’ me to become her pet, and I refused by growling, for which she hit me with the stick, it went on for around 20 minutes until her mother popped up out of nowhere. Bless that woman, she saved me…took care of me.”

Nodding at him San looked at his hands before letting out a chuckle, “She’s…different now, very shy…very timid and so scared, it’s like she’s just barely hanging on.” He could never imagine his little sunflower as a child like that, to him, she would always be the gentle-natured angel that found him, at the brink of death.

“When I transformed back she had threatened to report me, even threatened her mother, that was the first time I saw her mother angry, she had really…knocked some sense into her- I even met Azmer once, he used to come to teach her magic, though it was almost similar to the kind Yeosang possess, she could heal, she could grow, she even understood nature- though I used to think that part was a lie, until I plucked out a flower once for her, and she had started crying, full on sobbing about how the flower cried to her about how I hurt it,” he sighed, turning to look up at the Moon out of the window, “honestly, I started liking her the day she said that, she was still a menace no doubt, but her grandfather and mother put in a great amount of effort to mould her for a better queen, my lov-” he paused when his ears picked up the way the other man’s breath hitched, “admiration for her increased when Azmer told us about the prophecy, a child of human and Lurker, would bring peace across the land, tying all three nations together, the child would be offered to a guardian,” he turned to face San again who was staring at him in shock, truly amazed, so the Moon had not blessed him randomly, but this was a prophecy, “That’s why, for a long time- well, until today I thought it would be me.”

“But…I…” he paused for a moment, trying to form a coherent sentence, one that was not too insensitive, “Is not that a child of damnation?” He knew Yunho knew what he was talking about, a similar prophecy surfaced many years ago, “A child of a Lurker and human would cruse the land, bringing chaos among the guardians, wreaking havoc across the three nations.”

“It’s a… double-prophecy, if…as Azmer said, she was to choose the path of the Lurkers or one decided by the humans, such as her father, she would be fulfilling the Yin prophecy, if she were to take her own path, she would be fulfilling the Yang prophecy- for which she was promised a sincere other half, one who would stand by her to no end.” He sighed, standing up as he dusted his hands, eying San who was looking up at him curiously, “Go to her, observe her like Seonghwa has told you, not because we don’t trust her, but so you can see how much her mother and grandfather groomed her, how she is going to fulfil the Yang prophecy and what better partner to have than the great War Chief, the Moon’s blessed soldier, my very best friend and dearest brother…you.”

San sat there silently, letting the gravity of the situation weigh down upon him, slowly her actions and her insecurities began to make sense, and her promise, she had lost Yunho whom she must’ve assumed was her other half, perhaps his arrival had helped her realise it was not Yunho, but him, for whom she was meant to wait be-, his head snapped up at the door, words coming out quicker than he could stop them,

“Why did you leave her?”

Yunho’s hand was on the doorknob when his question had him freezing in spot, a long sigh broke past his lips that settled with a frown, “One of her brothers, Lauster, overheard us one day, and he reported it to the father…the king. The king had exiled the old Lurker, and a few days later news broke that their grandfather had died…supposedly attacked by a group of goblins, the queen was devasted and horrified, she had made me promise to protect her daughter when I’d grow older but also told me not to return until I was strong enough…so I did.” His forehead pressed against the cool mahogany as he closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay, clearing his throat so his voice wouldn’t betray him, only San was no fool, he could tell what was going to come next was horrible, “The next day…the Queen took her life- I…I know that’s not true, that’s why she doesn’t stay at the palace for too long, she hides in that cabin, you think she is banished there but that’s her safe haven. Her mother would tell her how Azmer’s cabin could protect her from those who’d want to harm her, one way or another, perhaps that’s why they cannot get rid of her, though the Lurkers in her mind, the ones leaching off her soul was something even Azmer couldn’t control,” he opened the door before whispering, though he’d know San could hear him with his sharp hearing, “Her other half- well, you already told us you could stop the voices, make sure they never get to her, San.” With that he walked out, gently closing the door behind him.

San slowly got up, walking over to his cupboard, opening the cupboard he reached behind his clothes to take out a small box, from within he took out a red handkerchief, staring at the cloth his thumb stroked the small embroidered sunflower at the corner,

‘Why is it always a sunflower?’

‘Hmm…because they're warm and pretty, Poofy, they are easy to grow, they adapt well and always turn to the light, the darkness can never attract them.’

‘You know, just an; I like sunflowers, would’ve worked too.’

‘You can be real mean sometimes, you know that Poofy.’

So, that’s what she meant, she grew the flowers herself, she wanted to be surrounded by the light, she wanted to be surrounded by the warmth that was promised to her, the warmth and light that would pull her out of the claws of the Lurkers within her, and he was supposed to provide her with that help, yet, he had abandoned her- not anymore.

Three days, he had been watching her for three days and all she’d do was sleep, clean, eat and repeat. There were moments of the day when she’d stay in the washroom, in the tub a bit too long so he’d have to go up to the window, and discreetly open the windowsill with his paw, to peak in, only to find her crying in the wooden tub. At night she’d sit in front of the mirror, brushing her hair in silence until the tears would begin to slowly cascade down the apples of her cheeks, dripping onto her silk gown, to say that he had not wanted to jump into the room to pull her into his arms, or into the tub to squeeze out all the pain and agony would be a lie, yet, this time he had decided to obey orders, to obey Seonghwa. Even Hongjoong had told him to stay out of her way, to stay hidden in the shadows so he could observe her, to note any abnormalities, perhaps she had put up an act for so long while he was at her residence, though his notes so far just told him she was a sad little girl being tormented by her thoughts, thoughts that he could push away if the dumb king and his dumber advisor had not instructed him otherwise.

It was not until the seventh night, that he had decided to take matters into his own hands, to make his presence known, at least to some extent. Her nightmares had become too extreme, he had thought of intervening that night, but before he could step into her room through the open window her shrieks had him flinching, waking herself up. What horrified War Chief was how she ran towards the kitchen, slamming open a drawer to take out a knife, taking in a few deep breaths she pulled up her other hand, staring at her wrist, her eyes void of any emotion as she mumbled to herself, "There, there, you're safe now, you're not hurting anymore, you're loved."

But before the edge of the knife could touch her skin something crashed in her room, causing her to flinch, letting the knife go in the process, flinching once more when it clattered against the wooden floor. Sighing to herself she rubbed her eyes with her palms, mumbling a curse she walked back into her room, only to find the window completely open. She turned to her cupboard which was slightly ajar, oh no, was someone inside? Perhaps she should have listened to Poofy when he was lecturing her about the safety measures, she should take to ensure no one breaks in. Grabbing the nearest object, a cane- oh, her grandfather’s cane, perhaps this cabin really was alive, always protecting her, well it better protect her now. She slowly walked towards the cupboard, slamming it open and swinging the cane around like a blind woman, hitting everything she could- only to calm down after a minute and realise she had been yelling and beating nothing but her own clothes- oh. Grumbling to herself she marched over to the window, slamming it shut then locking it, stupid wind, turning around she looked at the bed, only to gasp, before her, on her bed, laid spread out his uniform, Poofy’s uniform, particularly the coat she was working on when he had gone, with the half-embroidered sunflower across the gash on the cloth.

“Poofy?” she called out, looking around before quickly opening the window again and looking out for any signs of him, only to be greeted by her usual sunflowers, nothing unusual- wait, her eyes widened at the realisation, they were not facing the sky where the sun would smile down upon them, no, her flowers were turned to face the forest, right across from her, the entire field of flowers, the sunflower heads were facing the evergreens that separated her cabin from the rest of the world. He was here, he had to be.

That night she had no nightmares, instead she had dreamt of her grandfather and mother, both having tea in this very cabin, sitting on the porch as they stared at the sunflowers under the sun. Perhaps the thoughts inside her head could sense his mighty presence too, perhaps they did fear him after all. She had woken up a bit better that morning, putting in the extra effort of bathing in scented water, picking out her prettiest outfit, and her hair brushed and styled to perfection, ironically, the cathead pin had found its place back in her hair, the bell chiming with every move.

Since that day, she would sit on the porch during the day, somehow making sure all of her time was spent outside, tending to the flowers, cleaning around with the door and windows wide open, not a care to spare, because he would protect her, he was bound to. She’d even sit outside when the sun would ease into the sky, tending to his torn coat and vest, making sure to stitch it up well. At night, before finally retiring inside the cabin, she would place a plate of warm food, looking around the sunflowers, trying to spot two pointy ears or at least a tail, but she never could, yet, every morning she’d come outside to find the plate empty, and beside it a little gift, once it was a small origami heart, the next day it was a flower crown made from her sunflowers, she was please to know how the flower had allowed him to use them, telling her how this mysterious man filled with admiration and what they called love would use nimble fingers to skilfully pluck them out. Another day it was a purple silk ribbon, one she began to wear in her hair each day.

By the next full Moon, his gift for her the next morning had her fall to her knees, a silver pendant with a sapphire heart, placed neatly in the handkerchief she had given to him. She had run across the entire field that day, to look for him, wanting to find him, to confront him, yell at him for abandoning her like that even though he had promised to never leave, yet she could not find him, not a tailor pointy ears in sight. Out of spite, however, that night she had left him no meal, and next morning she had woken up to no gift, much to her disappointment, what was his problem!? Why was it so difficult to communicate with him? And just like that the meals stopped and so did the gifts, the only things that remained were that she would no longer suffer from nightmares and she was still trying to fix his coat, only this time, she no longer did it outdoors, fine, if he wanted to play hard to get, she could give him the silent treatment too.

San sighed, sitting on top of the branch usually gave him a good view, of not only the field and cabin but the window inside as well, it was a pleasant view, a view he truly appreciated, making him thank Mother Nature, making him thank the Moon-

“You’re a real perv, aren’t you?” the deep voice had him flinch, quickly standing in battle stance only to scoff at the taller man before shoving him off the branch, watching him land on his feet, following in behind.

“It’s my view, not yours.”

“San, I don’t think watching her bathe is anyone’s view”, Mingi sighed, rubbing his neck, of course, the idiot would be doing this, he was greedy and perverse when it came to attention as well, “So,” he decided to change the topic, “How is it going? Seonghwa and Hongjoong don’t know, but Yeosang sent me to check up on you, is everything okay?”

Sighing the man shook his head, rubbing his face, “She’s giving me the cold shoulder…she knows I’m here and-”

“How?”

He turned to look at Mingi, “Look, before you say I wasn’t allowed to do so, she was…she was about to do something reckless okay and I had to stop her somehow so I made my presence known and I helped her with her nightmares, that led to another thing and…she left me food so I left her gifts, it- it's like an exchange policy you know! It’s a cat thing- I think dogs do it too and then she stopped so obviously I stopped but I guess she’s mad about that?” He finally stopped to look at the librarian who was looking at him with great disgust, “What?”

“San…women…well…I…you’re an idiot.”

“Thank you, I’m sure your books make you very smart.”

“They do, they also teach me to communicate.”

“What?”

“Talk to her, you buffoon,” he sighed, before turning around, “Talk to her before you or she does something else that’s beyond stupid, listening to Seonghwa or Hongjoong for matters of the heart is idiotic, the dragons have been blessed by the love of all, including the Sun and the Moon, they didn’t have to earn it, like us, like you…or like her.” With that the man walked into the forest, disappearing behind the dense trees, a distant howl being the only sign of his departing presence.

Sighing to herself, she hung the fixed suit onto the handle of her cupboard, admiring her work, the large sunflower on the shoulder smiling brightly at her, much like the littered, smaller embroidered sunflowers, trailing up into his breast pocket on the left side. She had originally thought of just fixing the gash, but with the time she had, her creativity had gotten the best of her, which led her to give his clothes her little touch. Not that he’d know, since he had almost disappeared once again, her only assurity of his presence was that the nightmares had stopped, so perhaps he was still around, or maybe she had just outgrown the Lurkers within her?

The sound of a loud knock caught her attention, who had come to visit her at this hour? Walking out of her room she walked towards the door, Azmer’s cane in hand as she called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s us, you leach.”

Of course, it was midmonth, the time when her father would send either her brother or brothers or sometimes the royal guards with the food rations, sometimes clothing if needed, often she’d prefer the presence of the last option, at least the guards showed her some respect.

Opening the door, she moved aside, watching them enter like this cabin was theirs to claim. Lauster walked in with all his faux glory, his robes dragging across the floor as he stared around the cabin in disgust, “Really sister, if I were you, I’d get hitched, this filth is no place for someone related to us.” Pulling back a chair he sat down cross-legged, eying the way his sister stood with the cane, “Is our useless sister now a limp?” earning a chuckle from the younger two.

“No, but if you’d like I can turn you into one,” she smiled at him, earning a scowl, then she turned to the other two, “And I’d appreciate it if you’d show some respect, Jinju, don’t you think so, Maghroor?”

The younger two looked at their brother who scoffed, before snapping his fingers, “You really think you’re getting the throne aren’t you?” Maghroor stood up, slowly walking into her room when Lauster continued, “Haven’t you heard the news sister dear, father had come up with a great proposition, you are to be wed to the son of the first king of the Lurkers, I heard Ghalazat is a great guy, all big and strong- heard he breaks girls like you easily-

“Are you out of your mind?” she asked, walking closer to him, only to be stopped by Jinju, standing tall in front of her, “You really think we’re afraid of you sister? Father cast you aside the moment you let that whore of a mother we had and Azmer fool you with their little fairy tale.” The youngest hissed, leaning closer to her, only to bounce back, his hand on his stinging cheek as he sucked in a breath, glaring at her, with blurry eyes.

“Choose your words wisely, weasel,” the androgynous tone of hers caused the second oldest to freeze in spot, to scare her was part of the plan, but this was something they had not prepared for, deep down they were unsure of what she would do if the Lurker within her won. She was their father’s favourite not only because she was the firstborn or because she was smart, but she was the only child of his who was part Lurker, and although he had tried three more times, none of his sons had inherited the gene.

“C-come now sister, we were only joking.” He laughed, pulling back his youngest brother, “No need to get upset, I’m sure Jinju would apologise if you were to ask, he never meant to call Mother a whore.” He smiled, trying to calm down his sister who was frowning at him, glaring at them.

“No, I think he was right.” The third voice intervened, as Maghroor stepped out of her room, smirking at how the colour had drained off her face, her voice switching back to its usual octave, a whisper breaking through, “No…”

“Hmmmm? What was that?” He asked, dangling the coat in the air, “Come on whore, use your words, we know you can.” He smirked before tossing the coat to the eldest of the brothers, watching the way her eyes widened, almost afraid they’d break something, “Do you know what this is, brother?”

“No,” Lauster frowned, grossed out by the embroidery, “Who does this belong to, hmmm? Sister dear?”

“Put that back,” she hissed, moving closer, only to be slapped by the youngest, with greater force than she had used, causing her to stumble against the chair and fall onto the ground, as she stared up at Lauster with blurry eyes, too focused on Poofy’s clothes to care about the pain, that is until Jinju grabbed her by the hair, tugging on her strands, causing her to let out a strangled cry, “He asked you a question, wench.”

“None of your business, I said put it back-”

“Oh…I’ve seen this crest before”, Lauster hummed, turning to Maghroor, “This coquette’s been sleeping with the enemy.” Maghroor let out a faux gasp before turning the vest around in his hold, clucking his tongue at the crest, “You’re right brother, and here we were, giving our angelic sister to a noble prince, do you think he’d want a filthy, used slu-

“That’s not true!” she yelled, struggling against the youngest, finally shoving him off as she ran to her brother, wanting nothing more than to protect her work, to protect her dignity, a part of her wish if Poofy was here, he could come save her, but the fact that his clowns had been here, tormenting her only meant she was wrong, it was never Poofy, perhaps some homeless thief or a goblin fooling with her.

Her thoughts came to a halt when a blunt force knocked the air out of her lungs, causing her to fall to her side, the throbbing pain in her head made her vision blurry, and the ringing in her ears echoed as the blurry figure of her brother crouched down to look at her, brushing away the hair from her face, before gripping her cheeks hard, “Then why do you have this, hmmm? You sneaky little liar.”

“What punishment is given to a liar I wonder?”

“Oh brother, don’t you mean a whore?”

“True, true, Lauster, Maghroor is right, she is a whore that has been lying to the king, what punishment do you think is fit for something as unworthy and useless as,” the youngest paused, only to press his foot against her back, causing her to let out a muffled sob, “our filthy eldest sister.”

“Perhaps we should cleanse her before she is given to Ghazalat, I’m sure he’d be fine with a whore that can’t speak.” Maghroor suggested, tossing the vest onto the floor, as he walked towards the hearth, using the shovel to scoop out a good amount of burnt wood, admiring the simmering amber ashes, “For all the lies she has told her kingdom.”

“Mark her with our crest.” The youngest cheered, pulling out a dagger, before reaching down to rip a portion of her gown, exposing her back, their menacing laughter echoed when she covered herself, ensuring none of her chest was exposed, only for him to press his heel onto her back, pushing her crouching form onto the floor, laughing when she let out a strangled cry, pleading them to stop, “For bringing dishonour to her kingdom.”

“Let’s add one more,” Lauster hissed as he met her glare, her tear-filled eyes boring nothing but hatred, “I’m sure her husband-to-be wouldn’t mind a blind plaything, he shouldn’t have to suffer the same agony we did, that arrogant look she gives us,” he hissed, pulling her up by her hair, knowing her arms were busy covering herself so she couldn’t put up a fight, “This look of arrogance and pride you hold, sister, is it worth it? Is it worth the guardian you whore out for in the night?” he raised his palm, waiting for the youngest to place his dagger on his open palm, waiting for his sister’s response. She had never allowed them to torment her like this, to abuse and belittle her, her arrogance and self-pride had always been far too important for her, not changing her ways even when her father had pleaded with her, standing there in the meeting of the royals, demanding to end the war, embarrassing her king, her kingdom, yet when asked to apologise she only escaped to the cabin, promising the man she’d take over once he was dead- but she couldn’t now could she? No, this plan of his was wonderful, Lauster had been told by a Xikey of the great Prince who was looking for a match, one that would help him fulfil the Yin prophecy, this way, he’d get rid of her and obtain the throne, he thanked every entity out there when his father, the king had agreed.

“Well, sister, is he worth it?” he asked, shaking her head, pulling her back to consciousness when he noticed she had almost slipped into unconsciousness, only to be met by that fierce gaze once more,

“He is…I’d rather die than betray, San.”

“So be it.” He snarled, making sure to teach her a lesson she could never forget, his figure radiating with glee at the sight of her eyes closing in defeat, her mind racing back to him, Poofy no- San.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky

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ereardon · 1 year

Text

Friends Don't || Chapter 12

Synopsis: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late?

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid]

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, angst, cancer, alcohol, mentions of death, fertility and pregnancy discussions, surrogacy

WC: 4.6K

Chapter summary: Reid confines in Phoenix about intimacy issues after Bob learns about her diagnosis; Bob and Reid discuss their future and how kids will play into that; Hangman tries to apologize for being an asshole

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

You had told Bob you didn’t want things to change. He tried his hardest to take that to heart.

You moved back in and that first night sleeping in Bob’s arms again felt like coming home to your own bed after a six-month backpacking trip.

The issue was that you wanted him. You craved his touch. And Bob still touched you like you were a porcelain doll, ready to break.

Before, you barely had to trace your fingers over his chest before he was pulling your panties down with his deft fingers, working himself inside of you, trapping your moans with his mouth.

Now, you’d roll over, press yourself against him, and he would lay his lips gently on your forehead, trying to ease you back to sleep.

After a week, you got sick of it.

“He won’t even touch me,” you complained to Phoenix, taking a sip of your iced tea.

She looked over to her right, toward the inside of the house where the rest of the guys were gathered. The two of you were sitting under the shade of a tree out at the edge of the small fenced-in yard, drinking iced tea and lounging on soft fold out chairs, the kind that parents bring to little league games.

“He treats me like I’m going to break.”

“He’s scared,” she said, sliding her sunglasses up onto the top of her head. “You’re the love of his life, Reid. You’re the one thing that means the world to him. And he’s grappling with the fact that he might lose you. He doesn’t want to ruin it.”

You let out a sigh. “That’s the thing. We only have so much time. And I want him, so much.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

You reached out and grabbed her hand. “Really? Thank you!”

She smiled. “Never thought I’d have to talk Floyd into fucking you. Talking him out of fucking you? That I can do. This wasn’t in the Navy handbook.”

You laughed, settling back against the soft fabric of the chair. In the distance you watched as Jake and Bradley argued over how to properly grill the steaks.

Phoenix turned to you after a moment. “Have you guys talked about what happens next?” she asked softly.

“No.” Your eyes were trained on Bob as he bent down, adding another case of beer to the cooler next to the sliding door. “I’m just not ready. Neither is he.”

“I get that,” Phoenix said. “But Reid, you have to. Sooner, rather than later. It’s going to ruin him. He should at least know how you want things to go down after you’re gone.”

“Like what?”

“The funeral. Your stuff.” She let out a breath. “How soon you’d want him to move on.”

You turned to her. “He gets to mourn me as long as he wants. If that’s two days or twenty years. I’m not going to put a cap on it.”

She nodded. “I know. But if you let him, he’ll never look at another woman ever again. He’ll live by himself forever, as a hermit. Is that what you really want for him?”

You turned back to Bob. He stood and wiped his hands on his jeans before looking over at the two of you. You raised your hand in a wave and he smiled back. The sudden urge to run to him and toss your arms around his neck was overwhelming. But you knew that if you did he would be worried. About you running. About all of it.

“Reid?” Phoenix’s voice shook you from your daydream.

“He should move on,” you whispered. “I need him to be happy. He deserves that. He deserves better than this.”

She grabbed your hand. The two of you sat there, holding hands, in silence. Until the sun started to set softly over the roof of the house and Bradley called you inside for dinner.

Later that night, you watched Phoenix pull Bob aside. His eyes darted to where you were sitting on the patio, a glass of wine in hand, and you knew exactly what she was saying to him.

“Want some company?”

You looked up. Bradley stood with a beer in one hand, a smile beneath his mustache. You nodded enthusiastically. “Please.”

He took a seat next to you on the large bench. Despite everything that had happened, Bradley was a comforting presence. You realized the two of you were always destined to be better friends than lovers.

Sometimes it works out like that.

“Couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.” Bradley tipped his head to where Bob and Phoenix were still in deep discussion.

You blushed. “Oh, Jesus.”

He chuckled. “For what it’s worth, I get where he’s coming from.” Bradley squeezed your thigh gently with his hand, closer to your knee, in a friendly way.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“If we were still together, would you be like that?” you asked. “Would you be afraid that you’d break me?”

“Probably not,” Bradley said. “But he loves you more than anybody else ever could.” You looked up at him. He set down his beer on the brick patio. “He loves you with his whole heart. I think he’s worried that any move he makes is going to take minutes, days, off of your time together. He’s so scared that he’s going to mess things up. And he’s never had to deal with death like this before. Not something drawn out. He doesn’t know how to handle it.”

You squinted at him. There was something calm in his demeanor. Familiar in a way. “Have you? Dealt with this before.”

Bradley nodded. “My mom. She died of cancer when I was twenty.”

“Oh.” You reached out, taking his hand into yours and squeezing it. “I’m so sorry, Brad.”

He shook his head. “Thank you. It’s been a while, it gets easier. But I know firsthand how he feels.” Bradley looked up at Bob. “He’s watching his whole world fall apart.”

“This is why I didn’t tell anyone,” you whispered. “I wanted it to be normal. For a while. For as long as possible. I didn’t want people to treat me like a patient.”

Bradley squeezed your hand. “Tell you what. If we’re ever doing that and it’s bothering you, tell me. I’ll make everyone stop.”

You chuckled. “You promise?”

“For you?” he whispered. “Anything.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes softly, your hands still intertwined between your two bodies.

***

“I’m going to take a sabbatical,” Bob said as he rinsed a few tomatoes in the sink, turning around and patting them dry with a well-loved dish towel that you had sent him from Turkey five years prior.

You frowned. “What? You can’t do that.”

He nodded. “They have special permissions. This is one of them.”

“How?”

He shrugged. “I said you were my domestic partner.”

“Oh, Bobby.”

You got up, winding your arms around his waist. He set the tomatoes down gently, cradling your head softly. “I want to be here,” he whispered. “I can’t risk getting shipped off for who knows how long. I won’t risk it. If I have to quit I will. Whatever it takes.”

You pressed your face against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. Spicy oranges and jet fuel. After a moment, you leaned back, wrapping one hand around his neck, tugging his lips down to yours. You let your lips graze over his softly, gently.

“Sunny,” he murmured, pulling back.

“Please,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Please. I need you. All of you. I’m not a doll that you might break. I’m the same me as I was two weeks ago when you fucked me on the halllway floor.”

The tips of Bob’s ears went pink.

“I need to feel you inside of me,” you whispered and a groan bubbled from Bob’s throat as he leaned down, pressing his lips back against yours, his hands soft where he cradled your head, his other hand against the small of your back, creating a barrier between your back and the kitchen counter. “Take me to bed,” you murmured and in one swift motion Bob pulled you into his arms, floating down the hallway into the bedroom, setting you down gently.

You let him pull off your sundress and watched his eyes widen when he saw you weren’t wearing any underwear or a bra. You spread your legs wide and Bob kneeled on the bed, pressing his face between your legs, one hand gripping your hip softly, his tongue licking a thick stripe through your folds toward your clit as you trembled on the mattress.

“Oh!”

Bob grabbed both sides of your hips with his hands, pushing his face closer into your wet cunt, his nose brushing across your clit as his tongue prodded your entrance. Your fingers gripped his hair tightly, tugging him closer, and Bob started to swirl his tongue across your folds, doing figure eights over your swollen clit as you moaned.

“Bobby, fuck, yes, right there!”

He grunted as you came all over his face, your arousal coating his lips as he pulled back, one of your legs shaking from the force of the orgasm. Bob smoothed his palm over your thigh softly, shifting on top of you. Your fingers grabbed at his shirt, pulling it over his head, before pushing at the waistband of his shorts. He kicked them off carefully, his hard cock landing on your thigh and you gasped as it brushed over your wet folds.

“Want you so badly,” you murmured, sealing your mouth over his. Bob reached down, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds, spreading your juices over his length as he pumped himself, the tip of his cock hitting you repeatedly as he did so, causing you to groan.

“Honey,” he whispered into your neck. “Fuck, so needy for me.”

Your fingers tightened around his biceps. “Please, Bobby, please fuck me.”

His blue eyes met yours. “I will, baby. Let me get a condom.”

You shook your head. “It’s just us, right? Nobody else?”

Bob removed his hand from his cock, looking at you long and hard. He nodded. “Sunny, from day one it’s always only been you. The minute you said you were mine, there was no one else.”

“Then I want to feel you,” you whispered. “All of you. I never want anything to stand between us again.”

He nodded, reaching down and sliding the tip of his cock into your entrance, punching a moan out of your mouth. You buried your face into Bob’s shoulder, eyes pinched shut, as the force of his cock splitting you in half took over. “Oh, fuck,” Bob growled against you. Your walls were clenched around him, so tight and warm and he had never felt anything that felt one tenth as good as you did. “Gotta relax, darlin’. It’s too tight.”

“Sorry,” you whispered, letting out a breath, trying to relax.

Bob leaned down, brushing hair out of your eyes, locking his lips gently on yours. You focused on the warmth of his kiss as he slowly worked his hard cock inside of you, spreading your legs wider, stretching you to your fullest point. When he was all the way in, he broke the kiss with a loud groan. “Oh, my God,” Bob whimpered.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in tighter. “Feel so full,” you moaned, locking your legs over his waist. “Holy shit.”

Bob rocked his hips slowly forward, pressing himself deeper before pulling back and filling you again. You gasped as he moaned softly into your ear, his grunts making you even wetter, your walls sliding softly against his cock as he pressed the spongy walls inside of you.

“I love you,” you whispered.

He leaned back onto his knees, tugging your legs and hips higher, pressing a series of kisses to your calf. “Fuck, Sunny, I love you so much. Feel so fucking good, goddamn.”

He was close, you could tell. So were you. You reached one hand down, brushing against your clit. “Come with me,” you murmured. “Please, Bobby, come inside of me. Fill me.”

Bob groaned loudly, leaning forward, plunging his cock deeper inside of you and you gasped, pressing down hard on your clit, circling the bud quickly as you watched his beautiful face contort in ecstasy. “Oh, shit, I’m gonna come. Darlin’, I’m coming!”

And then he was spilling inside of you as you shouted his name, your orgasm breaking as he shot hot cum against your walls, collapsing softly at your side, his cock still trapped inside your wet, tight walls. You ran one hand over his back, tucking a leg over his hip, holding him close. “Bobby,” you whispered. “I love you more than I even realized was possible. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

He let out a sigh, running one hand over your cheek. “I’ll love you forever, Reid.”

***

“Listen, Reid—”

You held up a hand, stopping Jake mid sentence. “Not tonight, Seresin,” you said quietly. You looked over at Bob. He was grinning from ear to ear, standing next to the old wooden piano as Bradley pressed down on the keys.

It was Bob’s twenty-ninth birthday. The two of you had officially known each other for a decade. It felt like just yesterday that you had stopped him after class to ask if he would tutor you.

If only you had met him sooner. If only you had more time.

Jake opened his mouth but one look at your frown and he closed it, hanging his head softly. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, walking away.

You leaned against the bar. It wasn’t often that you got to watch Bob lose himself in a moment anymore. It always felt like his mind was elsewhere. He was worried about the future. He was panicking. He so rarely was in the moment. You loved to watch him smile. Watch him enjoy himself. Even if it was only for a few minutes.

Once Bradley had finished a few songs, Bob patted him on the shoulder, making his way over to you at the bar, winding his arm around your waist, dragging you in closer, planting a kiss on your lips softly.

“Hi darlin’.”

You smiled up at him. “Let’s go for a walk on the beach.”

Bob nodded, sliding his hand into yours, leading you out through the back door.

The two of you slipped off your shoes, setting off in the cool sand. You were reminded of only a month before when you had snuck out onto the beach during Jake’s birthday party. That was the night that had unraveled everything.

The moon was bright, tossing a blanket of light on the dark ocean waves. You walked in silence for a few moments before Bob turned to you. “Sunny?”

“Yeah baby?”

He leaned in, tucking a chunk of hair behind your ear. “You know I love you, right?”

You grinned. “Always.”

Bob smiled softly. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared. All I know is that I don’t want to waste whatever time we have left.”

He stopped and shoved his hand in his pocket, emerging a moment later with a plain gold band. You looked at the ring and then up at him in shock.

“We don’t have to get married or have a wedding or any of that. I know it’s not your style,” he said. “But I just want to know that when it happens, we belonged to each other. That’s all I want.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek as you nodded furiously. “I’ll be yours, Robert Floyd. Always have been.” You held out your shaky left hand and Bob slid the ring on carefully.

He smiled down at you. “That’s Meemaw’s ring, by the way. She told me a long time ago to give it to you.”

You pressed your hand close to your heart. “Now I feel bad that I didn’t get you a gift,” you whispered.

Bob leaned down, pulling you closer to him, your face pressed against his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his core. “You’re my gift.”

***

The last box of your things finally got shipped from Brooklyn. It had somehow gotten lost by the moving company, arriving months later than the rest of your items.

You frowned, standing at the door looking down at the box. “Bobby?”

“Coming sweetheart.”

A moment later, he appeared at the front door in a pair of jeans and sweatshirt. Temperatures were starting to dip as you entered fall.

Bob looked at the box. “What is that?”

“It’s the last box, that one they lost when they were moving my stuff,” you said. “Can you help me get it inside?”

“Of course, honey.” You scooted to the side, holding open the door as Bob lifted the box, carrying it into the dining room where he plopped it gently on the table.

You grabbed a scissors, slicing through the tape, peering inside. It felt like another lifetime ago that you had boxed everything up in your Greenpoint loft.

Peering into the box, you spotted a pair of old headphones, and then several manilla folders. “What is all of this?” Bob asked, pulling out folder after folder.

You shrugged, opening one of the folders up, finding tax returns from a few years back. “Paperwork from my office, I think. I don’t even remember packing if we’re being honest.”

You were flipping through old travel magazines — why had you bothered to keep those? — when Bob’s voice cut through the empty air. “Reid?”

You looked up. Something about his tone. Bob held up a piece of paper in his hand, Mount Sinai’s logo embossed at the top.

“What is this?”

Squinting, it took a moment for you to realize. When you did, your heart sank a bit. You pulled out a chair, sitting down. Bob followed suit. “When I first got diagnosed, the doctor said that no matter what route we took for treatment, I should look into freezing my eggs.”

Bob’s eyes widened. “Did you?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I did. They got twenty four eggs.”

“Is that a lot?”

“Apparently it’s a decent amount.”

Bob looked down at the paper. “What are you going to do with them?”

“I actually hadn’t remembered until now,” you said quietly. “There’s a lot to think about.”

Bob reached over and put his hand on yours. “I know. How can I help?”

It was simple. Everything you had, you wanted to go to Bob. The two of you met with a lawyer who helped draw up your medical requests.

Later that night, just as you were about to fall asleep, Bob rolled over so you were face to face. “Sunny?”

“Hmm?” Your eyes were still closed.

“Honey, can I ask you something?”

You opened one eye. “What is it, Bobby?”

“I can’t stop thinking about the eggs.”

You frowned, sitting up against the pillows. “The frozen eggs?”

He nodded.

“What about them?”

“What if we had a baby?”

“You can’t be serious.”

Bob was propped up on one elbow, his blue eyes shining in the moonlight that fell where the gap in the curtains couldn’t reach. “I’m completely serious. I want to be a dad, I’ve always wanted to be a dad. And those eggs are there. They’re healthy.”

“I can’t carry a baby,” you whispered. “Not with the cancer.”

“We get a surrogate.” Bob sat up, taking your hands in his. “If you don’t want a baby, I understand. I would never force you to. But darlin’, there’s nobody else I would want to have a child with. Even if we only have a few months together with the baby, or if we have five years, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we would love that baby more than anything in this world.”

You looked at him. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re truly serious.”

He nodded. “I am. I want to have a baby with you, Reid Coleman. A little girl with your eyes. A little boy with your smile. I’ll take anything. I want to be a dad. And I want to raise a baby with you.”

“Let me think about it,” you whispered.

“Of course.”

You laid back down, Bob’s arms wrapped around you from behind. Kids. Babies. You had never thought too long or hard about kids until you were told it was unlikely you could have them. And then they started to dominate your thoughts.

You knew Bob would be a good dad. He would be an excellent dad. The only thing you worried about was leaving them.

At least they would have each other. At least he wouldn’t be alone.

You floated off to sleep, the image of Bob holding his newborn child in his arms tattooed across your mind.

***

You were sitting on the beach in a foldout chair, wearing a pair of linen pants and one of Bob’s old button downs, your bare feet buried in the sand as you watched the team play a confusing game of football. You had never been one for sports, so you didn’t even bother to learn the rules or objectives. Simply watching them all in their shirtless states was enough.

Bob came over during a halftime break and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hey darlin’,” he whispered. “Doing OK?”

You nodded up at him. “Great. Can you just do me one favor?”

“Anything.”

You pinched the material of his yellow shirt. “Lose the shirt, baby. Let me watch my man destroy those idiots and look good doing it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head but peeling off his shirt, dropping it on the ground near you. Your eyes grazed over his chiseled stomach and muscular arms and you grinned. “Better?” he asked.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Now kiss me please.”

Bob leaned down, brushing his lips over yours. You reached out a hand, running it through his hair, your tongue darting into his mouth softly. He pulled back with a groan. “Honey, you’re gonna get me all hot and bothered,” he whispered and you looked down at a smirk to his shorts which were already growing tight.

“Go play,” you whispered. “We’ll finish this when you’re back.”

Bob groaned and licked his lips, looking at you one last time before jogging back to the group.

They were all beautiful. It was almost hard to choose who to look at. All tanned, taunt limbs, gorgeous faces, wide smiles. Once the game wrapped, everyone headed inside for a drink. Bob helped you put the chair and your stuff in his truck.

On the way back to the Hard Deck, he turned to you. “Sunny?”

“What is it sweetheart?”

“Have you, um.” Bob looked flustered. “Have you thought about what we were discussing the other night?”

Your chest tightened. He meant the baby discussion.

The truth was, it was the only thing you had been able to think about. You were twenty-nine, going on thirty. You never saw yourself as one of those women. The ones who longed for a child, who so obviously were made for motherhood. Your childhood had been rocky at best. Your mother was about as good of a role model as a can of beer was to an alcoholic.

And yet, something had changed over the last six months since the diagnosis. You started to notice babies and children out and about with their parents. At the store, on a sidewalk, on the beach. You would smile and wave and make little goo-goo noises to kids as they passed. And your heart would swell when they smiled back, chubby fingers raised in a wave.

You turned your eyes to Bob’s. “Yeah, honey, I’ve thought about it.”

“What do you think?” he whispered.

You shook your head and watched Bob’s face fall. Immediately, you pressed your hands to both of his cheeks. “Sorry, that wasn’t a no head shake. It was an I don’t know.” You sighed. “I want a baby,” you confessed, the first time you had said it outloud ever. “I just don’t know if I could do that to you. Leave you to raise a baby by yourself.” You shook your head. “That would be so incredibly selfish of me.”

Bob placed his hands over yours. “I’m asking you to do it,” he whispered. “It’s not selfish, Reid. It’s the most selfless thing a person could ever do.”

“OK,” you whispered.

Bob’s cerulean blue eyes lit up, his mouth dropping wide. “OK?”

You nodded and he let out a whoop, pulling you into his arms, spinning you around quickly before setting you back down and planting his lips on yours. You grinned, drawing your hands back, running your thumb over the cool metal of the ring on your fourth finger. So far, nobody had asked about the ring.

The two of you walked back to the bar hand in hand. Natasha was sitting outside on the patio, drinking a beer, her arms propped up against the wooden railing. She smiled at the two of you as you approached, taking in your uncontrollable smiles.

“What’s with you two?” she asked. “You look like cats that ate the canary.”

Bob looked at you. “Do we tell her?”

You squeezed his hand. “It’ll come out eventually.”

Bob grinned. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Natasha’s mouth dropped. Shock was written all over her face. It took her a second to compose herself, and when she did she shook her head. “Wait, but how. I thought with the cancer…” She trailed off.

You nodded. “I can’t carry the baby. But before I left New York, I froze my eggs. So we’re going to have to find a surrogate. It’s not going to be easy, but it’s what we want.”

You looked up at Bob. He was glowing. If he was this happy now, you couldn’t imagine how happy he would be when he held his child in his arms for the first time.

Natasha’s voice pulled you out of your daydream. “I’ll do it.”

The two of you turned to her, eyes wide. “What?” you breathed.

She nodded, a firm confirmation. She was serious. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your surrogate.”

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