SeeSaw

You walk and walk—days blur into weeks. Your clothes hang off your frame, tattered and too big. Bombings have become a constant backdrop, each explosion a distant rumble you barely acknowledge. The earth’s violent shudders no longer faze you. Hunger gnaws at you, a relentless companion, its grip tightening until you can’t even remember your last meal. Water, your only steadfast ally, has kept you moving; without it, you’d have long since fallen.

You trudge along the desolate highway, the city a distant speck on the horizon behind you. You have no sense of how far you’ve traveled, only that the remnants of your home have shrunk to a mere dot in your vision. The road stretches endlessly ahead, a bleak reminder of the ground yet to cover.

Dizziness is your constant companion now, your throat as parched as the Sahara despite your efforts to hydrate. Water is scarce, and you’ve been rationing it for days. Hope feels like a distant memory, and though the elusive horizon you’ve been chasing for weeks appears closer, it still seems maddeningly out of reach.

Your body feels like lead, your feet swollen and throbbing with every step. 

Sleep is a distant memory, haunted away by visions of blood-streaked faces, final breaths, and echoing cries. Bloodshot eyes and a disheveled appearance mark your struggle; you’re still in your tattered nightdress, stained with blood and reeking of fear and sweat. 

No food, no shower, just the relentless march through this wasteland.

You’ve lost track of time—is it still September? 

The biting cold cuts through you, your torn and ruined shoes barely offering any protection. You trudge onward, desperate to find shelter, weary of hiding in the bushes from strangers who might wish you harm. Paranoia grips you; every rustle in the distance, every shadow makes you jump. Trust is a luxury you can’t afford. You feel like you’re unraveling, teetering on the edge of sanity.

When your eyes land on a solitary house down a side street off the main road, you can hardly believe it. You’re nowhere near your end goal, the neighboring city, yet here it is—a lonesome house in the middle of fucking nowhere. You chuckle, convinced you’ve lost your mind. Why would there be a house out here, untouched by the chaos? You blink repeatedly, but the house remains. Your feet carry you forward, despite your spinning head and the jumbled mess of thoughts in your mind.

The house, partially concealed by tall trees and lush bushes miraculously untouched by the war, seems like a relic from a forgotten world. An old jeep, battered but intact, sits beside the porch with its white picket fence. You approach cautiously, every step feeling surreal, and lift your hand to knock. Your bloody knuckles leave crimson smears on the pristine white door, a stark reminder of the nightmare you can’t escape.

You lose track of time standing there, every second stretching into an eternity, before the door is abruptly ripped open. You find yourself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

“Who are you?” a male voice demands, harsh and suspicious, but the words barely register. Your vision blurs, darkness encroaching, and the last thing you feel is the hard impact of the porch floorboards against your head as you collapse.

→ Do you want to join Yoongi on a quest for survival as the world crumbles around you? Let me know and I’ll tag you when it drops 💜

“Shhh, if he ever hears you call him that he really will give you reasons to hate him.”, she chuckled.

“Ladies,” he winked before heading to the back office.

Truth be told you might’ve had a teensy tiny not really that small crush on Yoongi ever since he accidentally spilled a latte on your shoes during his first month of work over a year ago and then profusely apologized with red tinted cheeks before offering to buy you a new pair and dinner on top of it.

An emergency came up and you weren’t able to make it to the dinner but you’d hoped to be able to reschedule. Unfortunately he never gave you that chance because after that night the shy sweet blonde turned into a menace, showing up late, always begging to leave early, never cleaning or prepping, and spending most of his time getting different girls numbers. He was rude to you. Always calling you a prude or making hurtful comments. He tried to get under your skin any chance he got.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt every time you saw him shamelessly flirt in front of you or loudly tell your other coworker Namjoon about all of his random one night stands. At this point you weren’t sure if you hated him because of who he was and how he treated you or simply because he wasn’t yours. But that was a secret you’d take to your grave. You made hating Yoongi part of your personality and in no way would you let that go.

The rest of your shift went relatively smoothly. You and Mina kicked ass while Yoongi sat in the office only coming out if he sensed there was a pretty girl in the building.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I don’t mind getting there a little late.”, Mina checked with you one more time.

“No it’s okay. The busy hours are done with so we shouldn’t get more than a customer or two at a time. I can handle it. Go celebrate your brothers birthday.”

With a smile she bounced out the door leaving you to spend the final hours before closing with Yoongi.

Unfortunately for you your one or two customers at a time remark came back to bite you thanks to a high school graduation happening a block over from the cafe.

You stared at the line of people all looking back at you with agitation as you tried your best to take orders and make orders and cash out while still trying to smile. You went to the back looking for Yoongi, but he was nowhere in sight so you took a deep breath to collect yourself and returned back to the front greeting the next customer in line.

Just as you were adding the whipped cream to the top of some girls cup of sugar with a splash of coffee you heard the back door swing open.

“Jesus Y/N, why didn’t you come get me?”, Yoongi asked hurriedly tying his apron behind his back.

“I tried but you were no where to be found. But of course you would show up when there’s a pretty girl involved.”, you spat back handing the girl her drink while trying to ignore her giving puppy dog eyes to Yoongi.

Without responding he headed to the register to take a few more orders before helping you knock out a few of the drinks that were built up. It took about 35 minutes but the two of you were able to get everything caught up.

Throwing a towel down on the counter you wiped some of the sweat off of your forehead really regretting not taking that job at the ice cream parlor instead.

“Here have some cold water.”, Yoongi said handing you a bottle.

“No thanks. I don’t need your pity water.”

“Oh my God Y/N, I’m just trying to give you some water. Why does everything have to be a fight with you?”

“Maybe because I’m tired of having to pick up your slack.”

“Well maybe I’m tired of your bitchy attitude.”,

“Yeah well maybe I’m-“

Before you could finish the sentence someone on the other side of the counter cleared their throat.

“I am so sorry. How can I hel-“

Your fear of upsetting a customer turned to joy when you spotted one of your favorite regulars, Jimin. He had been coming into the cafe for a few weeks and you always enjoyed it. He was personable and friendly. Not to mention very handsome. He’d come in and order a large iced mocha and occasionally a slice of banana bread, make a little small talk and then quietly work in the corner. Judging by his tailored designer suits and briefcase you figured he probably worked for one of the various law firms that surrounded the cafe.

“Hey Jimin, how are you doing today?”, you asked immediately perking up.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Yoongi mocking your excitement, but chose to ignore it for now and focus on Jimin instead.

“Hi Y/N. Just the usual today.”, he smiled back.

“Of course!”, you said while ringing up his iced mocha.

Yoongi got to work on the drink while you handed Jimin his change.

“So things not getting any better between the two of you?”, he asked putting away his wallet.

You scoffed, “Not even close.”

“I see. Well that’s not good. We’ll have to work on that.”, he said taking the drink that Yoongi had quietly sat down on the counter before returning to the back to start the closing process.

Jimin thanked you with a wink before taking his usual seat. His words still playing in your head.

As you were scrubbing away at one of the machines you heard the door chimes ring signaling someone was entering the building. You turned to greet who would hopefully be your last customer of the day.

“Oh Yooonnnggiiii”, you heard a sickeningly sweet high pitched voice.

“Ugghh”, you rolled your eyes recognizing the woman. She was one of Yoongi’s regular hookups. Rose or Lilly. Maybe Violet. You weren’t really sure what her name was and didn’t care enough to ask.

She was desperately in love with him and would drop to her knees faster that he could say suck. You almost felt bad for her knowing that he was only using her as a last resort when he couldn’t find anything better.

Yoongi came walking out of the back office smirking as you made a gagging motion.

“Seriously? You couldn’t wait fifteen minutes to set up a booty call?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Hey, she offered and who am I to say no?”

It didn’t take long for you to watch him grab her hand and pull her towards the bathroom as she giggled. Your stomach twisted in disgust, but your heart broke at the sight.

He must’ve had an off night or one of the best experiences of his life because it was less than seven minutes later that he came walking back behind the counter with flushed cheeks and you saw the woman embarrassedly heading towards the door with tousled hair and running mascara.

You busied yourself by scrubbing away at a coffee stain on the counter that had been there since before you started so you knew it was useless, but you just wanted to avoid any interaction with him that you could.

You jumped when you heard someone clear their throat not expecting another customer five minutes before closing time.

“I uh I finished all the dishes.”, Yoongi said not making eye contact.

“Okay? Do you want a cookie?”

“Wow Y/N.”

“Well it’s part of your job Yoongi. I don’t need you to walk me through it.”

“I know that Y/N. I just wanted to let you know so that you didn’t go back there to do it.”

“Yeah well while you’re at it why don’t you go disinfect the bathroom too.”

“Sorry no one has ever been so desperate to get in your pants.”

“Oh go fuck yourself Yoongi.”

“Don’t have to. I have people for that.”, he smirked.

“I hate y-“

“Hi guys!”

You jumped at the peppy voice coming from across the counter before feeling an immediate sense of relief.

“Hey Jimin.”, you smiled as Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Hi Y/N”, he smiled back.

“How about a cookie?”

“I’m sorry what?”, you chuckled at his odd question.

“Here”, he said sliding over two raspberry jam filled cookies.

“Oh no thank you Jimin. I’m not much of a jam person.”, you politely declined.

“I stayed up all night baking these. I’d really love to get your opinions. I’m calling them Raspberry Romances.”

Thanks to the deep pout he was giving you and the way his eyes twinkled you couldnt say no a second time so you grabbed the cookie popping it in your mouth in one go.

“Mmm actually not bad.”, you said trying to keep the crumbs from falling out.

Jimin smiled before sliding the other cookie closer to Yoongi.

“No thanks. My parents taught me to never take candy from strangers and I’m pretty sure that applies to cookies too.”, he shook his head.

“Come on Yoongi. Jimin isn’t a stranger and would it kill you to not be an exhausting asshole for two minutes of your life?”

Letting out a long sigh of defeat he reached for the cookie popping it in his mouth, “Its okay. Name needs work though. Sounds like something a Girl Scout would sell.”

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to fake disinterest.

“Great! Thank you guys so much.”, Jimin clapped his hands together.

“So what got you into baking all of a sudden?”, you asked trying to make small talk and avoid Yoongi’s glare.

“Oh just a new hobby I guess.”

“Pfft I’m gonna go lockup so we don’t get any more customers trying to poison us with random cookies.”, Yoongi said walking towards the door.

You shook your head, “Ignore him. You’re welcome to bring any of your creations for me to try any time.”

Jimin smiled as he watched Yoongi round the counter. As Yoongi walked closer and closer to the door you felt an odd sensation in your chest. It got tighter and tighter the farther Yoongi walked away from you until it felt like you had been stabbed in the heart with a burning knife.

“Ahh call and ambulance. I think I’m having a heart attack.”, you cried doubling over in pain.

“Nope! No heart attack.”, Jimin said a little too cheerily given the situation.

You looked up noticing he was pointing towards the door where you saw Yoongi doubling over gripping his chest just like you, “What the fuck? I’m too young for this shit.”, he cried.

Instinctually you ran over to check on him forgetting about your own troubles. As soon as you got within a few feet of him though you immediately started feeling better. Yoongi did too as he was able to catch his breath and stand up straight.

“Oh I’m so glad it worked! And so quickly too!”, Jimin excitedly bounced watching this all unfold.

“So glad what worked?”, you asked turning to look at him.

“The cookies I gave you.”

“So you did poison us. I knew it!”, Yoongi exclaimed walking forward.

“No no no, let me properly introduce myself. My name is Park Jimin and I am your case worker.”

“I’m sorry what? Our case worker?”

Jimin nodded, “Yes, your case worker. I work for the broken souls department.”

“Great. It’s worse than poisoning us. He drugged us.”, Yoongi dramatically waved his arms around.

“I did no such thing.”, Jimin responded offended.

“Please explain what’s going on in detail.”, you said trying to diffuse the situation.

“Right. So I work for The Ministry of Adoration in the souls department. We’re divided into three different sections, Complete Souls, Broken Souls, and Lost Souls.”

“Oh my god. That’s it. I’ve died and gone to hell. I am in hell right now.”, Yoongi groaned from next to you.

“Shut up and quit being so dramatic.”, you hissed before turning back to Jimin, “Maybe start the explanation from the beginning.”

With a loud sigh he continued, “Everyone is born with 50% of their soul. Someone else in the world is born with the other 50%.”

“Oh like soulmates!”, you exclaimed.

He smiled, “Yes exactly Y/N! And it’s everyone’s destiny to find their soulmate to complete their fulfillment and bring the souls together. Most of the time the two souls are compatible and get along smoothly with no issues. Sometimes though they need a little help to move along and their cases are then sent to my department hence the broken souls.”

“Okay and what the fuck does this have to do with Y/N and I? Why did we feel like we were dying a few minutes ago?”, Yoongi spat.

“Well you and Y/N are soulmates.”

You and Yoongi both let out a deep laugh at the same time. “No we’re not.”, you quipped.

“Yeah we hate each other.”, Yoongi added.

Jimin nodded in agreement, “Yes which is why I’m here. I’ve been watching you two for several weeks now hoping you’d work it out on your own and I wouldn’t have to step in but after your little argument today I knew my help was needed.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Maybe Yoongi was right and you both really were poisoned by a handsome guy in a Gucci suit.

Jimin continued, “The cookie I gave you was a new prototype that we’re working on. Normally we’d just lock you two together with some handcuffs and call it a day. But with this cookie it gives you a little more wiggle room and will hopefully make the experience more enjoyable therefore having a higher success rate. Thanks to the cookies the two of you can’t be more than five feet away from each other or you’ll feel that little pain in your chest. A heartbreak if you will.”

“Why are you doing this?”, you asked.

“Well you and Yoongi are running out of time to become compatible and fall in love. Once your souls run out of life they disappear forcing you both to then turn to the lost souls department lead by my coworker Jin where you’ll be subjected to an eternity of loneliness and despair and not to mention countless unfunny dad jokes. And trust me, you DON’T want that to happen. Which is why I gave you two the cookies. It’ll force you to have to spend time together and get to know each other and hopefully that gives you both the little nudge you need to finally let Cupid in with his little arrows of love.”

“I know someone I’d like to shoot with an arrow right now.”, Yoongi spat.

Ignoring him you asked, “So what happens if we don’t fall in love?”

“Welllll, you have three weeks from today to share true loves kiss.”

Yoongi went to speak but Jimin quickly cut him off, “And no you can’t fake it and just kiss. We’ll know whether it’t true love or not.”

Yoongi sat down in huff and you continued, “Okay and what happens if we don’t kiss?”

“After the three weeks, if no true love kiss has happened, then your soulmate bond will be broken. And then the two of you will have to decide whose soul you want to continue unscathed and who you want to be sent down to the lost souls department. It not a the best situation but at least this way we can save one of you instead of loosing both.”

“Wow un-fucking-believable.”, Yoongi muttered beside you. You were speechless.

“Well I think that was enough excitement for one night. Remember not to stray too far away from each other.”, Jimin said walking towards the door.

“Wait what if we have questions? Or something else happens?”, you panicked.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be around when you need me.”

And with that he walked out the door letting it slowly shut behind him.

“What are we going to do?”, you asked turning to Yoongi.

“I’m gonna go grab my shit and go home.”, he said walking towards the back. Hastily you followed after him not wanting to stray too far. He grabbed his things and headed towards the door with you on his heels.

“Y/N, stay here. None of this is real. I don’t need you following me around like a lost puppy all the time.”, he said before slamming the door in your face.

It only took a few seconds for the pain in your chest to return causing you to double over. Thankfully it quickly disappeared when Yoongi returned out of breath clearly having experienced the same.

He grabbed your hand pulling you with him, “Come on. We’ll stay at your place. We just need to stop at mine and grab a few things.”

“Umm excuse me? Why do we have to stay at mine?”

He sighed, “Because I live with two other roommates who will never stop giving me shit about this and you live alone.”

“Okay. Fair point.” You didn’t exactly want to have to live with all these random people anyways.

His apartment was pretty close thankfully and much nicer than you expected. As soon as he opened the door you were surprised to see everything clean and organized. A faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla hung in the air. His two roommates were on the couch watching a movie.

“There you are! We were wondering when you’d get home.”, one of them exclaimed.

“Of course you were late because you had to find a friend for the night. At least she’s way prettier than your usual catches.”, the other spoke. His comment making you blush slightly.

Yoongi grabbed your hand beginning to pull you down the hall when one of the guys spoke up, “Hey aren’t you gonna introduce us?”

“Yeah don’t be so rude Yoongi?”, you spoke trying to poke a little fun at him sensing his irritation.

“Oh for fucks sake.”, he grumbled before pulling you into the living room.

“Y/N, these are my roommates. This is Jungkook and that one is Hoseok. This is Y/N.”

You politely smiled and waved at the two men who seemed much nicer and friendlier than Yoongi.

“Great. Everyone is pointlessly introduced and I have things to take care of.”, he said pulling you back down the hall.

“Don’t forget to use protection.”, Jungkook shouted after you eliciting a giggle.

Yoongi motioned for you to take a seat on his bed, “I’m just gonna grab some clothes and my laptop.”

You shook your head, “No thanks. I know what you do on that bed.”

“The only thing I do there is sleep. I never bring girls back here.”

“Why not? Don’t you want to be comfortable instead of always hooking up in a car or random bathroom?”

“I don’t know. It just feels too personal if I bring them here. You know into my space. I only save that for people I actually care about.”

You didn’t think he was capable of having feelings like that and then it hit you.

You smirked, “So you care about me? I mean you did let me into your personal space after all.”

“Don’t think too much into it. I just didn’t want to be doubled over in pain while I packed.”, he rolled his eyes before turning away so you couldn’t see the blush forming on his cheeks.

Once he had all his things packed you both snuck past Hoseok and Jungkook who were too busy fighting over the last piece of pizza to notice you anyways.

Swinging the door open to your apartment you suddenly felt really self conscious. It had been several months since you had a guy over and the fact that the guy next to you was Yoongi didn’t make it any easier.

Conveniently you heard him chuckle from behind you.

“What is it Yoongi?”

“Nothing. Your place is cute.”

You rolled your eyes before walking further into the living room.

“I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow. You can have the couch.”, you said motioning to the corner of the room.

“Umm yeah that’s not gonna work.”

“Well make it work because I am not sharing a bed with you.”

“Alright fine. I’ll take the couch and you can sleep in your bed and we’ll both be in excruciating pain all night because you peer pressured me into eating a cookie from some demonic Betty Crocker wannabe.”

You closed your eyes internally smacking yourself for forgetting the whole reason you were stuck with Yoongi to begin with.

“Fine. We’ll share my bed. But no funny business.”, you huffed past him.

“Wouldn’t dream about it babes.”

“Could you please hurry up. I’d love to get to sleep at some point tonight.”, Yoongi groaned.

“Almost done. Just rinsing off.”, you said. The large size of your bathroom was the main reason you chose this apartment but you were really regretting it in this moment. You tested it and Yoongi standing outside the door was just too far away so you both agreed to stay in the bathroom together as you showered and did your nightly routines. Shutting off the water you peaked around the curtain to make sure he was still staring at the wall.

“Okay I’m coming out now. Don’t turn around.”

“Y/N I’m not going to look if you don’t want me to. Just please hurry the fuck up.”, he spat clearly getting cranky.

Quickly you dried yourself off before getting your pajamas on.

“Okay”

“Can I turn around now?”

“Yeah sure.”

Your mind was probably playing tricks on you but you swore you saw a hint of red running down his neck.

“Hey tomorrow I nee- Oh my God Yoongi.”, you exclaimed bringing your hands over your eyes before turning around. “Seriously? You couldn’t warn me that you were just gonna strip naked.”

“I’m getting in the shower. Of course I’m gonna be naked. And I promised I wouldn’t look at you. I don’t care if you look at me. Plus I know you’ve been dying to catch a glimpse of all this.”

“Oh please don’t think so highly of yourself.”

Thankfully his shower was quick and he was dried off and changed within minutes.

Your bed was small forcing the two of you to lay shoulder to shoulder.

“Can I ask you a question?”, you spoke breaking the silence.

“Sure.”

“Why do you have a tattoo of a cookie with a smirk on your butt cheek?”

“You were checking out my butt weren’t you?”, he laughed.

“Answer the question.”

“His name is Shooky. It was something I had drawn one day and then after a few too many drinks one of my friends dared me to get it as a tattoo.”

“And you thought your butt was the best location?”

“You don’t even want to know where Jungkook got a tattoo of the pink bunny he drew.”

“He didn’t.”, you gasped.

“He did. He calls it Cooky on a coc-“

“Okay that’s enough.”, you stopped him before he could go any further. He laughed before letting the room fall into a semi awkward silence.

“You still awake?”, he asked after several minutes.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Well I just remembered that my brothers wedding is this weekend so uh I guess you’re gonna have to be my date.”, he said barely above a whisper.

“Okay. It’s not like we have a choice anyways.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

You both laid there in silence for a while but you could tell neither of you were close to falling asleep.

“Hey Yoongi?”, you asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. We’ll figure something out. Besides we both know I’ll be the one who walks away from this anyways.”

You rolled your eyes before turning away from him. You should’ve known better than to look to him for comfort.

Yoongi laid awake staring at the ceiling while sneaking little peaks at you.

The truth was he was scared too, but he’d never let you know that. Scared of what might happen. Scared of what might not happen. Scared of the fact that he has loved you since the minute you introduced yourself to him at he cafe even though you’ve never reciprocated the feeling. Scared you’ll find out that he’s only a jerk to you as a defense mechanism to hide his true feelings.

Includes ( this episode ): There's flirting and progress is made. The squad is cute. Mentions of cheating in the past ( not from main characters ), bad relationship dynamics, fuckboy shenanigans ( say no to fuckboys ), and broken hearts. Author's note: I have a question for you guys: should I start adding the pet names in the warning? Because my thing is that Yoongi has been using them in context of what is happening, like in a banter kind of way, but… should that be a warning in itself? As always, hope you like this one, remember to leave a comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or whatnot. Thank you for reading <3

The motorcycle ride wasn't as scary as you thought it'd be. In fact, it was kind of calming. The streets were mostly empty and Yoongi drove at a decent speed, mainly of course, because you told him you'd kill him if he didn't. But it was nice, a good distraction and an interesting way to end a hectic night.

Monday morning comes around and your stomach hurts with anxiety at the thought of the inevitable. Is even worse than when you have to give a class presentation, at least in those cases your life isn't the subject. And your only hope to get you throughout the day is that everything would feel better after talking with the guys.

“Are you not finishing those?” Jungkook points at the fries on your plate after a while of sitting in the cafeteria. Your group has assigned this time as lunch hour since everyone is free while some of them wait for their next class.

“You can have them if you want.” Everyone's eyes turn to you as if a second head has grown, “I'm not hungry.”

“But… is fries?” Says the soccer player and to his credit, is true that turning down fries is a sign you may be sick, and honestly, it feels a little bit like you are and that's what finally makes you decide is time. 

“Let's talk. Outside.”

You can't bear the awkwardness. They tip-toeing around, putting too much thought on your actions. It can't go any longer, but you still take a few minutes to walk them outside the cafeteria and to the back of the building. Away from the protagonist of your story.

“Oh… hi.” Greets Yoongi, his arm mid air as he stops the action of putting a cigarette between his lips. “Walking all together like that, you guys do look like a gang,” he jokes after you and your friends say hello.

“Says the guy smoking,” Jimin’s answer, gaining some laughs.

“Sorry,” he really seems remorseful, “I'll go somewhere else.”

“Actually,” grabbing his forearm, you stop him from leaving. “Can you stay? I think I do need moral support.” 

On friday night he told you asking Mai to be there when talking about everything could be a good idea, and with a shake of your head against his back you answered you didn't want to bother her, already feeling bad about worrying her that night. So, he said he would do it. If you needed support he would be there as a payment for saving him at the club the night you met and that you only needed to ask.

Even so, it is surprising to you when he just nods and goes back to his position against the wall. You stay in front of him and your friends gather at your sides in a circle, ready to listen.

“Okay. Well,” you take a deep breath, “first you have to promise to not do anything. Not threatening, not breaking noses. Nothing. You promise?”

They do, with only a “But if it is really bad can I scream at them?” from Jungkook.

“No. I don't want more drama.”

And they nod once more, and again, you breathe.

“So, there's this guy, he is from the basketball team,” Hobi got that right, but it wasn’t surprising after you took a liking for going to the games and then stopped just as suddenly even if Jungkook was still part of the team. “We were talking for a couple months. You know, messaging and… just flirting I guess.” 

“You guess?” Taehyun asks to clarify.

“Yes? I… I don't know. Sometimes it would be more obvious than others and we would talk about what we wanted in a relationship as if we were talking about our relationship.” In the moment you thought it was obvious, you were flirting and planning the future; both of you mentioned wanting something beautiful and long lasting. But after everything, you wonder how truthful everything really was. “We even went on a few dates and on Valentine's he got me a necklace and a cute cart saying how much I meant to him.”

“And you didn't tell me?” Jimin argues. The only one that says something even when all your friends at surprised at that. 

“I’m sorry. I wanted to, I swear, but I also wanted to enjoy it just myself for a little bit.”

“And what happened? Why did it end?” Tae wonders impatiently.

“Well,” the phantom pain from that day is back on your chest, “sometime at the beginning of April he canceled a date and because I already had told you guys I was staying on campus to study, I ended up going to the movies by myself and…” 

“He was there?” You nod. “With… someone… else?” 

All your friends react at Tae's guess and you only nod again. Your eyes are fixed on Yoongi, on the half burnt cigarette still in his hand that is now off, to avoid looking at them and the sadness on their faces. You can't handle that. Even when you tell yourself you're over everything, finally telling them about it and knowing how it makes them feel revives how you hurt back then. In a certain way, it gives you the validation you didn't have at the time, and that you didn't know you needed.

Is healing, and you wish a little bit you had told them sooner.

“I bumped into her and at first I didn't see him.” You continue narrating, “Her drink spilled and I was helping dry her hand when I noticed the little smiley on her bracelet and it was the same as mine.”

There are reactions all around the circle once more, Yoongi's “how original” comment makes your lips curve slightly. And it’s surprising, but you’re glad to be able to find the fun in it now.

“I didn't think anything about it, you know, just like, cool, we have the same cute pendant, but then I heard his voice and well… It wasn't cute anymore.”

You remember how shocked you were in the moment and his face as he realized it was you in front of them.

“What did you do?” asks Hobi.

“At least tell us you spilled the drink on him next.” Adds Jungkook.

“I didn't do anything,” and there's a part of you that regrets it. “I was so surprised and confused. I thought that maybe I'd made it all up in my head, that maybe he didn't mean the things he said like that. Because there was no way he could just turn around and be official with another girl by next monday, right?” You pause for a second to take some air, trying to calm down since the tears would be threatening to fall anytime soon. “But he did. And when I texted him and asked to meet up to talk, he replied with just a «thanks for these few months».” A dry laugh leaves your throat, every time you think about that text you find it stupider. “And just like that it was over. And I felt so dumb for letting it happen.”

“Don't say that. Is not on you,” says Hobi immediately.

“He played you. He is an asshole.” Jungkook continues, “C'mon here, so I don't run back in and punch his stupid face,” he says bringing you into a hug. 

“So,” Yoongi starts after a few minutes of sitting in silence on the bench outside the cafeteria. Your appetite has come back and your friends are busy with their next class, one you don't share even with the ones in your major since you have stuck to an all-morning schedule, so you're left to share a bag of chips with him. “Can I ask something?”

“Can I refuse to answer?”

“I hope you don't,” that makes you laugh, “because I'm really curious now.”

“Okay, shoot.” 

“What happened seems like the perfect reason to avoid casual things, but that's not what I got from our date.”

“That's not a question, Yoongi,” you remark playfully when he doesn't continue, turning to him, bending your leg on the bench. “You want to know why I didn't run the moment you told me you didn't want a relationship?”

“Yes,” he nods, “that's what I meant. What I want to know.”

“Well, because you were honest about it.” Is as simple as that, but he still looks unsure. “I’m pretty sure that Chr– that guy,” remembering Yoongi is trying for the team you decide is best to not give out names to him either, “wasn't looking for something serious when we were talking, but he played into it because I said I was. He built my hopes up of something more and in the end he kind of just admitted that I was someone he was just spending time with. He didn't want something serious with me but he wasn't honest about it.”

“Would you have had something with him if he had been honest? If he asked to be friends with benefits or whatever?”

You chew a chip while thinking, taking some time.

“I don't know,” is your final answer, “I know it hasn't even been a year, but I was different back then, had other expectations and such. But what I'm sure of is that I'd have loved to be able to decide for myself, you know?”

“Of course. Is different when you are the one deciding to put your heart at potential risk.” he steals a chip from your bag, and silence falls once again.

So far Yoongi has proven to be a good person to talk to and to just be around in general, maybe Mai and Hobi were right about you guys being similar and setting up the date last week. Thinking about that and the phrase he just said reminds you of something and is your turn to wonder.

“Did she break your heart?”

“Who?”

“The redhead from the club.”

His expression changes a little bit, but you're getting better at noticing, so you catch it. “Thought you had forgotten about that.”

“Almost did, but you know, I'm curious too.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you complete the idiom, smiling proudly.

“Touché.”

“I'm a smart cat, what can I say.”

That gets you a smile from Yoongi and he changes position, reclining his back against the bench and looking straight ahead he commences. “We met at the beginning of university, had a few classes together and started hanging out, became friends, and then started dating at the start of our second semester. Everything was easy and calm, the change from friends to more didn't even register to me, I… I don't know if it makes sense.”

“Sounds lovely,” you point out.

“It was. I thought it was perfect. And perhaps it was for a while, but after dating for about nine months something changed.” A little wrinkle appears on his forehead as he thinks, “I couldn't point it out and sometimes it felt like it was all in my head. And that made me more nervous because I didn't want to self-sabotage, you know.” You nod, fully facing his side now, sitting indian style and bag of chips on your lap. Paying attention as he did before for you.

“She wasn't big on PDA and I respected that, but when I told Mai we were together and she got mad I kind of realized that we had been secretly dating for almost a year. None of hers, and ours, closest friends knew about us and it felt… it hurt.” He pauses for a moment, bringing his hands to his jacket’s pockets. “So, I wanted to talk to her about it. To try and find a solution, to tell her I was sorry for telling Mai but I wanted to talk to my best friend about my girlfriend and how much I…” another pause, breathing in. “But when I went to her dorm, it was Jay who opened the door.” 

You gasp unintentionally, covering your mouth right away. “Where they…?” You don't know what to say. And you don't really need to say anything, everything is pretty clear.

“Turns out they had been together for about three months at that point.”

You gasp again, shocked.

“In and out, kitten, don't die.” He manages to joke and that makes you feel worse about your response.

“Sorry. Is just…”

“A lot?”

“Yeah. And… crazy. How could she cheat on you? I mean, in general, I don't get why people do it, but… on you?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He chuckles a bit.

“I mean because your relationship sounded lovely. Dating your friend? That's the goal, isn't it?” You correct, “But also, yes. You're good looking and your kissing game is not bad.” 

“You're not bad yourself.”

Looking at each other, you both laugh. 

“I'm sorry that happened to you,” you offer sincerely on a more serious note, “you know it is not on you, right?”

“I know,” he sighs, Mai had made sure to repeat it to him countless times back when everything happened and the couple months after until he truly believed it, “thank you.”

“And I know is scary and I'm not one to say it but… don't let what happened make you run away from the opportunity of something great.”

Yoongi smiles softly without really reaching his eyes and you completely understand when instead of keeping the conversation serious, he asks “Are you flirting with me?”

“You turned me down, remember? I'm not doing that again,” you answer only half joking.

“C’mon, I told you why I did it”

“You were deciding for me.” He opens and closes his mouth, shaking his head and before he can apologize again, you clarify, “I'm just joking.”

“You're mean. But I forgive because you're cute.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Yes.” He answers without a beat.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

A pause, contemplating.

“You wish.”

He smirks, “I do.” 

And you do too. But your bravery from the other night is not here today and you wonder if it's because you're at the University campus or because all you have done today is talk about your bad luck in relationships and the fear of it all.

What if your friends see?

What if anyone else who knows them sees and tells them?

But what if it is the last chance you get to kiss Yoongi again?

Why are you overthinking it? Wasn't your plan to just go with the flow or whatever cheesy quote you chose?

“Was that too much?” Yoongi asks. The wind has blown a strain of hair into your face and he pulls it back in place behind your ear. “I don't have a problem being the one flirting, but if you really don't want me to do it again I'd completely stop. I promise.”

“Is not that,” you quickly answer. “I–I like it, is just…” some people walk out of the cafeteria, and you follow them with your gaze, is hard for him not to notice. 

“Come with me?” Standing up after him, you follow Yoongi across campus and behind the auditorium. He has only been here about a week, that's why you're surprised when he announced not a lot of people come here confidentiality.

“The ones still on campus are busy, either in normal classes or in extracurriculars.”

“You aren't on any extracurriculars?”

A shake of your head, “I live through Jungkook, that kid does everything.” 

Yoongi laughs. “That's why everyone knows him?”

“That and those Bambi's eyes,” you nod, laughing with him.

You are calmer now and guess that was Yoongi’s plan for bringing you here. So, when he doesn't say anything else, you decide to continue the other conversation.

“I guess that's why it’s kind of scary to flirt so openly with you. Especially now after finding out about the whole thing with Hobi and the basketball team,” you sigh.

“Do you think someone is going to tell him if they see us?”

“Probably?”

“So are you telling me to stop flirting?” 

“No.” You answer too fast and he smirks, making you feel a bit shy, but yet, you continue. “I’m just not sure how they'd take the whole «hey, I'm flirting and kissing this guy. Is nothing serious we are just messing around».”

“«Messing around»? Are you fifty?” Yoongi laughs.

“They are! When is about me they act like everything is so extreme,” you pout a little.

“Poor baby,” he mirrors your pout, hands on your shoulders rubbing them softly.

“And I'm scared they would make everything so dramatic, you know? Like, if we want to kiss or whatever without being so serious about it, then what’s the issue?”

“They worry about you and want to protect you. Don't blame them too much.”

“Don't be on their side,” you shove him a little, “I'm trying to kiss you.”

He laughs, “Sorry. I'm on your side.” Pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around your middle. 

“While we both are on the same page about what we want, it shouldn't be an issue. Don't you agree?”

“Totally.” 

“So,” you look up at him, “what do you want?”

“I want to kiss you.”

You blush at how direct he is. “Not what I meant.”

“Well, like I said, I'm not really looking for a relationship right now. I don't think I'm ready to put myself at that emotional risk again yet. But I didn’t mind you kissing me, and wouldn't complain if you want to do it again,” he says honestly. “What about you?”

“Also not really looking for a serious relationship. I think I just want to explore life a little, whatever that means. I want to have fun and not get hurt.”

“I'll never hurt you.”

“I'll never hurt you, either,” you promise looking into chocolate eyes, getting on the tip of your toes to peck his lips, sealing it.

A/N: alright, this is officially a friends with benefits fic now, who is excited? asdfg Check this post for the calendar and pinterest board and more yapping that tumblr doesn't let me add here :/

Thank you to the people interested in seeing the calendar edit for this series!! I'm still deciding if I should do it at the beginning or at the end of each month ( their month, not ours lol ), I was thinking at the end to avoid spoilers but let me know what you think, please.

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You don't notice the surreal atmosphere engulfing you as you sit on your couch. Your apartment looks the same as it always does, yet it feels inexplicably foggier, as if you could touch your surroundings and everything would fizzle and dissipate fleetingly into thin air.

Before you're able to clock onto the hazy feeling that seems to flow through your entire bloodstream, a breaking news segment on your TV steals your attention: apparently the scientifically proven cure for a broken heart is a kitten's ballad.

Normally, you would question this, grab your phone and debunk it through the internet for the sake of your sanity and your need to always be right. Instead, your consciousness accepts it and you grab the glass of water next to you, failing to register the way it feels like and weighs nothing in your seemingly numb hand.

As you're about to take a drink, a knock on your front door unexpectedly stalls you.

You practically float towards the door, not feeling the normally cold floor on your feet. As the door swings open, you're surprised (but not sceptical) to find a very familiar face on the other side.

"Hi."

The man stares at you as if it was you who showed up to his door unannounced. His face is painted with just as much confusion as you feel.

"Hello," you breathe out, "Would you like to come in?"

"Yes?", the man unsurely says, following you to sit down on the couch.

You both say nothing, sitting in the silence you both subjected yourselves to. You stare at him in awe of how he looks close-up, the familiar features you would regularly admire in pictures is burnt in your heart with a brand new filter of details those photos would normally miss. He stares at you in a similar way, but he slowly explores the small details of your face in a way that signals to you that this is the first time he has ever seen you.

"I'm a big fan of yours." You break the silence, breaking out into a bashful smile.

He blinks.

He offers a brief smile back.

"Thank you." he replies, continuing to intensely stare at you.

You give an acknowledging nod, thanking him for his thanks. You purse your lips out in the undeniably awkward atmosphere.

"I'm y/n", you introduce yourself in attempt to hack at the silence, "I already know who you are."

This time he gives the acknowledging nod, a bit taken aback by your sudden bluntness. Yet a genuine smile sneaks out on his face and his brain doesn't catch up to the words that spill out of his mouth.

"Can I give you a hug?" He unexpectedly says, his face showing as much surprise as you feel.

In that moment, you realise he was speaking in Korean and you, despite never actually learning the language, fully understood it like you know the sun can be seen in the sky. The realisation, however, is momentary, finally processing his question. You don't even verbalise your response, instead moving forward to show him your answer.

Then all of a sudden, everything transcends into something that is inexplicable to describe in any other way except real.

He feels real.

You feel the comforting pressure from his arms around your body. You feel every soft shape, edge, and surface on his both muscly and soft body. You feel the soothing scent from him uplifting the senses in your nose. You feel the overwhelming warmth radiating from his body. The feeling is visceral, your heart drums throughout your body when you feel his heartbeat on your skin.

He is real.

As if shocked by electricity, you both move away from each other, staring at each other in pure shock. It's in that moment you take in the surreal atmosphere, the foggy surroundings, the ridiculous news on the TV.

You realise you're dreaming and yet the man in front of you is inexplicably real.

What haunts you is that his face mirrors yours. As if he feels the exact same thing you do, as if he finally registers everything around him is surreal, as if he too realises he's dreaming. He realises.

You're real too.

He moves forward towards you again and opens his mouth, about to ask you if you just felt what he did. You feel every fibre in your body about to do the same, to confirm that you viscerally feel everything, you can feel him.

But before either of you can utter a single word, everything and anything selfishly and unforgivingly rips through the existence, so brutally that it forces your eyes wide open.

You wake up.

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The dream stayed on your mind, the feeling of his touch lingered on your skin. So much so that if you try to think back to it, you could almost relive it. It's odd. So inexplicably odd.

You mentioned it to your friends. Yet, despite their initial interest in your story, they only acknowledged the dream with a "huh, that's weird" and moved on from it. And, considering the bizarreness of the dream and the fear of being perceived as a delusional fan who was convinced that the Yoongi from BTS interacted with you through a dream, you accepted the passing commentary and told yourself that it was some sort of weird fluke.

And you kept telling yourself that until you started to get more and more dreams featuring the famous idol.

It got to a point where it was every few days. The dream always consisted of the same thing: you guys would find each other in the dream; have a chat about something random; end up hugging; feel the inexplicably, very real feeling of each others' bodies; look at each other with the recognition of the previous times this has happened; open your mouths to address the bizarre sensation; and then, of course, wake up absolutely breathless.

At first, you tried to will yourself to remember and confront the repetitive structure of the dream, like trying to remember the exact timing of a jump scare in a horror movie or the exact moment you see the romantic interest fall in love with their fated partner. But every time, you enter the dream without realising you're dreaming, never fully conscious of the repetition until you hug, always letting him slip from your grasp. Both metaphorically and (kind of) literally.

So, 6 months in, you gave up trying to confront the weird phenomena. Instead, just enjoying the dreams, enjoying his hazy company, enjoying your seemingly genuine conversations about anything and everything within the bizarre and eccentric world of your dreams.

There was something so indescribably real and authentic about dream Yoongi. You found yourself confiding in him about life, your real world life that is. You would talk about what had happened that day, the memories from your teen years, your aspirations, your likes, your dislikes, anything. In return, dream Yoongi would tell you about his day, his memories from his teen years, his struggles, what he ate that day, what music he was working on, funny stories about his friends. For instance, apparently Namjoon keeps embarrassing himself in front of an intern he may (i.e., definitely) has a crush on and you find yourself both laughing and cringing at the different moments Yoongi would retell at the cost of his dear friend's demise. It was strangely very believable and, after the fated realistic hug, you would wake up, feeling a unique sense of embarrassment for how detailed and enjoyable your made-up yet convincing conversations were with dream-Yoongi.

You felt a tiny bit more embarrassed to admit that, a year and a half in, these dream conversations were a big part of resolving your real life problems (thanks to dream-Yoongi's pragmatic but considerate advice), a big part of your life, and a big part of who you are. You hated to admit it to yourself, but these dreams weren't merely fantasies; they were a tangled web of devastatingly real emotions. The discussions were achingly genuine to you, you would pour your heart out in these moments in return for his.

Before you knew it, dream-Yoongi crept his disastrously perfect self inside your heart.

You fell in love with someone you don't know.

Was it stressful falling deeper and deeper in love with dream-Yoongi with every dream you had of him? Yes. Did you freak out that one time Yoongi mentioned he was getting ready for a comeback and then a week later that same comeback was announced? Very much so. Did it get a bit too much that you had to actively stop being a fan of the group because keeping up with them became a tragic, painful reminder that dream-Yoongi was just that: a dream? Absolutely.

The more your feelings blossomed in your chest, the more ridiculous you felt about the situation. It got to the point that you went on a date and you felt so weird, almost guilty for betraying Yoongi. You had to remind yourself that 1. you aren't even in a relationship with Yoongi and 2. you've never even met this man you felt you were betraying.

It got to the point where the ridiculousness you felt started to transform to a constant ache gnawing at your heart, your dreams overshadowing reality. You realised your unrequited love for a man you made up in your head.

You decided these dreams needed to stop.

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In all honesty, you had no idea how to try and attempt to resolve the issue at hand and neither did Reddit (unsurprisingly your experience was very, very unique). So, in a moment of pure desperation, you went to see a (very expensive) dream therapist.

The very understanding and non-judgemental woman tried to reason that these dreams may be a result of issues with your love life and being single (there wasn't, you were quite content not being in a relationship) or maybe because you were a big fan of BTS (unfortunately you were not anymore). You felt a bit sorry for the therapist, especially after she admitted she doesn't really know how to help, having never seen or heard of your experience before.

In the end, the therapist suggested trying to bring your subconscious to heal and bridge that gap between your desires and reality. You weren't really sure what that could entail, and neither did she. After a moment of heavy silence, the therapist apologised for her inability to help and broadly concluded:

"The rule of thumb here is that confronting what's really been bothering you often resolves your problems in some way."

You walk out of the appointment with some form of hope.

You decide maybe the best course of action is to actually try to address the real sensations you feel when you touch dream-Yoongi and potentially this may resolve something in your unconscious? (You really weren't too sure but you thought doing something was better than nothing).

So, you went out, bought a dream journal, and tried to start lucid dreaming. You start keeping track of your dreams, investing in better sleep, and, really, following every advice page that was out there. However, when it finally works, you couldn't dream in dream-Yoongi for some reason. Instead, you "wake up" with sleep paralysis and find it genuinely terrifying.

So you give up.

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You have 3 more dreams with dream-Yoongi. In each one, you catch him staring at you with a mist of worry in his eyes, almost begging you to let him know what's wrong. You feel bad but you try to dismiss him, settling for the regular surface-level chats that seem to be engulfed with more moments of silence than normal.

It seems that something keeps throwing more and more problems your way to deal with, both with your dreams and life in general. After learning a bit about dreams from the therapist, you're not surprised to note that your dreams seem to be more mellow than usual.

3 months have passed since the sleep paralysis incident and you're in another dream.

It's not as grim as it has been recently. Instead, you're sitting on the blinding white sand with your arms around your knees, basking in the sunlight as people play volleyball in the bright blue ocean on horse-sized cats.

You think one reminds you of Yoongi.

"Is this seat taken?"

Speak of the devil.

"What, the vast land of sand?" you tease, staring out to the sea, as he rolls his eyes .

"You know what I meant," he sighs, "Can I sit next to you?"

"Yes, of course you can," you answer, stealing glances at him as he sits a foot away from you.

You both stay silent, watching the odd scene in front of you as if it's a daily occurrence to watch a form of beach cat polo. But, you will reason when you wake up, in a dream you wouldn't question it at all.

"What's been up with you recently?" Yoongi asks, mirroring your position, his head resting on his arms, staring at you.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, recently you have been a bit off," Yoongi shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant, but you can tell he feels a bit uneasy, "Every time we talk you just seem a bit out of it."

As you digest what he said, you remain silent. Huh. You guess you have been out of it.

"I..." you think about how to go about this, "I think I'm just tired about all of this?"

"All of what?" Yoongi asks, and you watch as his face scrunches in confusion.

He's so beautiful, it hurts.

Tragically, your unconscious won't let dream-you remember the true reason for your sadness. Instead, you feel the need to confess, confess you have fallen for him. Confess everything you have felt for nearly 2 years, in front of the glistening sea and purple sunset that is adorned with purring cats.

But, for once, the real-you influences dream-you a bit too much, you're too scared.

"I'm just tired of... work?", you say with as much assuredness you can muster, "Work has been really stressful, they are offering me this big transfer, well more like insisting I transfer and I don't know... I might reject it."

That was actually true (for real-world you).

"Oh shit," Yoongi raises his eyebrows, letting out a sigh of relief, "Well, transfer to what? To where?"

"To another country," you continue, thankful for the change in conversation "Away from my friends, my family, and just about everything I know."

Another wave of silence fills the atmosphere as you both take in the sunset in front of you. It's doubtlessly unrealistic yet undeniably beautiful.

The peace stops when your peripheral catches Yoongi abruptly spinning his head towards you.

"Wait, is it for that job you were talking about? The project manager role?" Yoongi asks.

You nod. You watch as his face changes to let out his breath-taking smile. Your heart melts at the sight and the fact that he remembered.

It seems dream-Yoongi remembers everything.

"So it's not just a transfer, it's a promotion! Is that not great? You've been wanting to work with the charity for ages," he asks you, with admiration and a sense of pride in his eyes.

"But, I didn't realise I would have to actually move somewhere for it. I'm kind of scared to move to somewhere new, especially because I like where I am. What if I don't like it? I don't even speak the language!" you try to reason, letting out a groan listening to your own whines, "Is it shitty of me to give this opportunity up just because I'm scared?"

It falls silent as you both think about it.

"No. It seems there's pros and cons to both," Yoongi reasons back, "but both options do not make you a shitty person. There's a balance in helping others and putting yourself first"

You hum in contemplation. Silence washes up the shore again.

"But you do realise you can actually learn the language right?" he teases, "Like, that's what most people do when they need to move to a different country."

You give a pointed look at him, trying to remain serious, while the corners of your mouth betray your intentions. He looks at you with a seemingly genuine expression of endearment, letting out a small chuckle.

"You want my honest opinion?" Yoongi asks, continuing when you give him a nod, "Are you scared of moving to a new country or are you scared to move away from your place? Because to me it sounds like you're just scared to leave home and that's fine. But there's a difference between staying in a place because you actually like it and staying in a place just because it's comfortable."

You stare at him, a bit bewildered and struck with self-realisation that he might be right. He looks at you with a fond smile and gives a little shrug

"I would just hate to see you give up something you've been passionate about to just settle," he truthfully admits.

"What makes you think I'm just settling?" you ask, half joking, half offended.

"The way you talk about your life, I know you like your friends and your family and 'just about everything you know'. But you don't seem truly happy with where you are," Yoongi counters, "Like, where you are personally, with your job, I mean sometimes you seem bored with your city. And you always talk about wanting to start anew. I just want you to think about it before saying no"

"Yeah, I guess... " you quietly say, digesting all his words, "Thank you Yoongi."

You give him a sincere smile, and you watch as his eyes gazes around your face, as if he's trying to memorise every detail. Your heart warms at the action.

"It's no worries. I'll always be here, no matter what you choose, just let me know what you end up doing," Yoongi smiles, pausing before asking you, "So where would the transfer be?"

You pause for a moment.

"Um, it would be in the Seoul branch."

"What?" Yoongi gapes, "That's insane, you always talk about wanting to visit here. We could even meet up if you come," Yoongi suggests, unable to hide his excitement.

"I know," you let out a chuckle at his reaction, excitement spreading to you at the thought.

That won't actually happen though.

You feel your heart ache at the little voice in your head. You drop your head down, despairingly chuckling at the improbable idea.

He doesn't even know you exist.

And in that moment, you stare at him in shock.

You realise you're dreaming.

But before the now-conscious you could finally talk to dream-Yoongi, he lurches forward to bring you into an excited hug. And as always, you feel the same realistic warmth and pressure of his body onto yours, and it spreads and flutters right to your heart.

Then dread fills your entire body. No.

And just like clockwork, he instantly holds your shoulders to slightly push you away, frantically looking at your face with the same confusion you see on his face after every godforsaken hug.

Hopelessly, you try to quickly get any word out to the man in front of you, watching as he too scrambles to let even a sound out.

"You're-," you barely hear him start.

Then, you wake up.

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You decide to accept the transfer.

You have also decided that your dreams need to stop. For multiple reasons. You don’t want your heart to ache every time you see even a picture of real-Yoongi, which would probably be every day when you move to Seoul. You don’t want to keep tearing up at the realisation that the real-Yoongi is nothing like your dream-Yoongi or at the fact that dream-Yoongi isn’t real. And on the very rare chance you ever see real-Yoongi in real life and he walks past you as if you are just a stranger (which you guess you are), you don’t think your heart could actually, realistically take that kind of heartbreak.

So, you decide you really need to sort this dream situation out once and for all before you move. As a symbol of truly starting anew.

You try to lucid dream again and again.

And, for once, it works.

You open your eyes to a vivid yet clouded scene. You take in the sights, the dark velvet seats all lined up to face the stage were illuminated by the dimmed lights on the dark gold-coloured walls. Almost half of the theatre seats are filled; there’s people you notice are your coworkers and some people you don’t recognise at all. You don’t dwell on them for too long as you notice him sitting a few rows from the front of the stage.

You feel a bit wobbly making your way down the aisle, noticing how weird everything feels in a dream. Everything is so similar to real life, yet there’s this noticeable addition that feels unexplainable and yet somewhat fuzzy-feeling. As you near him, you feel your breath hitch in your throat as he turns to look at you, as if feeling your presence nearby.

"Ah, nice of you to show up," he jokes, "I was wondering if you got lost and I would never see you again."

You instantly feel yourself smile at the sight of his face, comfort filling your heart and mind. You note how handsome he looks in the black suit he’s wearing as you sit down beside him.

"Hate to disappoint," you play along, "I'm hard to get rid of."

He laughs with familiarity, feigning disappointment with a dejected sigh.

It feels odd to sit next to him. Well, it’s odd for the real, conscious-you to sit next to dream-Yoongi. Again, you note the haziness of your surroundings, the subliminal feeling like your falling and yet, dream-Yoongi remains so realistic, almost an anchor to this whole experience. It almost makes you second guess whether you truly are dreaming in the first place. But, you don’t know if that’s because that’s just the experience of lucid dreaming or the fact you are sitting next to the man you fell in love with, well, made up man.

"I actually need to talk to you about something," you start, turning towards him awkwardly in the fixed seat.

Sensing the serious tone in your voice, he turns towards you too, also awkwardly in the fixed seat.

You huff at the uncomfortableness, not wanting this to be the place you finally say what’s been haunting you for nearly 2 years. Then you remember, you're dreaming.

With the realisation, your surroundings change to your wish.

You both are sitting down on your old couch in your house: the place where you had your first dream with Yoongi. 

He looks at you with the same concerned expression, either not noticing the surroundings changing around him or, as you logically reason, not caring because he is not real with an actual conscious.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi stares at you, worry painted on his face.

You feel tears fill in your eyes at the sight of him.

A sense of finality fills the air.

And with that, you inexplicably feel in your heart that this is the last time you will ever see Yoongi. The last time you will ever see the person you have shared the most precious and sacred conversations with. The last time you will ever see that man you love.

So, you try to savour the moment, savour him.

Your eyes trace every detail, every line, everything about him. The soft slope of his nose, his naturally pouty lips that seem to say everything right, his piercing yet soft eyes that look at you with so much care and adoration.

Care and adoration you made up in your head.

"I'm in love with you."

You breathe out a shaky breath. You curse yourself feeling so nervous at confessing to someone who only exists in your head.

"Please don't say anything," you plead when he opens his mouth, about to respond.

An unreadable expression embedded on his face nearly makes you stop to try and decipher him, but the need to keep confessing takes over.

"I'm in love with you, Yoongi," you repeat, "I love you, and I just wanted you to know. and I realise how ridiculous this is, confessing to someone who doesn't even know me, let alone love me back but I love you."

You stare at him as his eyebrows furrow in confusion with his chest heaving up and down, breathless from your words.

"You've been my comfort person and the more I think about it, the more I realise that I think I've made you up in my head to get me through it all. Through my endless job rejections, through my fights with my friends, my siblings. Even through the time my childhood cat died. You've given me so much advice and comfort and laughter with your ridiculous stories and thoughts. I love all the conversations we've had together and all the times we just sat in silence. I love how you aren't afraid to set me straight if I ever say something wrong. I love your passion when you talk about your music, your friends, the people you love. I love your outlook on life and people. And  I'm just so in love with you. And I don’t think any words can really get that across, Yoongi"

You raise your arm up to your face to wipe the tears off, chuckling at how good it feels to get this off your chest yet how painful this all is.

"And I want you to know I'm going to miss you. I don't care that you won't realise or that you might not even care that this all will end," you feel your heart break at the sudden thought, "Or maybe you will just cease to exist..."

You hiccup from all the tears, which blur your vision from the man in front of you.

"I just want to say I love you," you confess again, not caring how repetitive you sound.

You move to wipe your tears again, wanting one final look at the man you've grown to love the past years. You almost laugh at how speechless he looks.

"I'm gonna go now."

You move to stand up, heart heavy in your chest, about to take him out of your dream when you feel yourself stutter at the very real feeling of his hand around your wrist.

"Don't go, stop", the man chokes out, "I'm in love with you too."

You turn around to look at him, your heart disintegrating at the sight of his face, etched in confusion and pain.

Reminding yourself this is all in your head, you shake your head, trying to ignore the warm feeling spreading through your chest. When he sees your disbelief, he begins to stutter, unsure of what to say.

"I'm so in love with you," he repeats, "This is real, this whole time it has been real, I swear it has to be real, I'm real, so please don’t go, don't leave me. I need to see you again, you can't leave me."

You almost fall for it. 

In your head you know this is just you making this up, you want to protect yourself because you want Yoongi to love you back, you want for him to be real.

But he isn’t.

You sit back down to face him, who stares at you in agony, and you give him a bittersweet smile. You move to tightly hug him, and, to your surprise, you feel his body begin to feel hazier and more indistinct the longer you hold him. For once, you can describe what this hug feels like: now it just feels dream-like. You feel him instinctively move to hug you back, even tighter, as if he would disappear if he loosens his grip even just a tiny bit. 

You almost laugh at the feeling, because he will disappear, he always does.

You quickly let go and hold his head in your hands to see his face one last time. You feel his realistic smooth skin in your hands start to grow indefinite and the wetness from the stray tear that falls from his red eyes dissipate on your fingertips, regardless you move your thumbs to wipe them from his perfect face. 

You feel him slip away from you.

"Goodbye, Yoongi."

For the last time, you feel a pull to move his face towards yours, wanting to touch his lips you've been dreaming about for years. He looks down at your lips and moves towards you as well.

You both are so close to each other, you feel what is left of him: his cooling warmth, his vague skin, his muted breath against your lip. You close your eyes as you feel a wisp of his soft lips against yours.

Then, you wake up.

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You don't dream of Yoongi again.

You try not to think about it for the next 5 months, somewhat succeeding (turns out moving to a new country is surprisingly a good way to try to get over the mourning of your non-existing lover you made up in your head). You also avoid the fuck out of any mention of Yoongi, which is tragically harder as he has apparently released a single. But now you are used to instinctively scrolling past any mention of him on social media or taking the longer way to the store to avoid his face on the billboards adorned in the busy streets. You’re doing better.

You settle fine in your new job, you get by fine with your improving Korean, you remember to call your family to remind them you’re doing fine because you are. You’re doing just fine.

You tell yourself that again in the mirror of the venue’s bathroom, getting ready for the celebrity charity event that you and your team had planned. You feel nervous with it being your first big project you took part in since moving here and you feel even more nervous from potentially meeting any of the celebrities on the attendance list. 

You feel your heart race knowing that he was set to attend.

Truly, you've never thought that you would ever actually meet Yoongi in real life. At first, you were considering not going, the feeling of anxiousness tempting you to an apologetic sick call to your manager. But you talk yourself out of it, you don't necessarily need to meet or speak to Yoongi, or any of the celebrities for that matter. And besides, you hate to admit it, but dream-Yoongi always told you to try to not let fear stop you from living your life. So you decide to go.

In fact, you're kind of excited.

Tasked to make sure the ‘red’ carpet event runs smoothly, you stand behind the cameras with your clipboard and phone, ticking off who’s arriving, who’s been interviewed, who’s left to arrive. Your headset provides an appreciated distraction from your nerves, listening to the chaotic whispers on the radio. You hear one of your coworkers squeal in the mic and you stifle a laugh as she apologises about being unprofessional. But, you instantly go breathless, when she explains it is because a certain someone just arrived.

You feel your whole body warm with your heartbeat racing impossibly faster at the sight of him standing on the carpet, while everyone flashes their cameras desperately at the global celebrity. You become breathless again, he looks so familiar and so comforting. You can't help but pat yourself on the back for how accurately your brain portrayed him.

You feel your heart melt at how he looks quite nervous, eagerly looking around at everyone, you can tell from the way he clasps his hands tightly as he poses that he feels a bit on edge, yet a bit excited? Your mind goes to the one conversation you had where he mentioned even to this day events like this still make him nervous. Your mind then goes to remind yourself that the conversation wasn’t with real-Yoongi but with dream-Yoongi. And also that the conversation wasn't actually real.

Still, you can't help but block everyone and everything else out as you watch him make his way down the carpet. Posing for more pictures and answering questions that some interviewers are asking him.

You feel yourself make yourself smaller as he makes his way to the end of the carpet where you are, feeling the unnecessary need to hide from his potential gaze. Still, you listen to his interview with the interviewer.

"Hello, we have Yoongi here!" The interviewer says to the camera, "How are you today?"

You watch as he answers the questions with the very similar gait, mannerisms and patterns of speech as dream-Yoongi, you feel that comforting feeling again.

"So, how did you hear about this charity?"

"I actually first heard about this charity from a really dear friend of mine." you see Yoongi look down with a fond smile, "They honestly have the exact same beliefs and views as me so when they first told me about it so passionately, I knew it was something I care about too. And I do care about it, with the topic of mental health, I believe it is so important that we care about the younger generation."

"That's really sweet", the interviewer relatably swoons, "and we can't not talk about your new single! It is amazing! Can you talk a bit about it?"

"Thank you. Um, yeah it's been a song that I think has been kind of long overdue, overdue for years. Some people have told me it's very cheesy in its essence," he chuckles, scratching his neck bashfully, "It's written as a dedication to someone you really care about, someone who's changed your life, someone so good, you don't believe they're real, you know?"

"Yeah, no, I get that," she replies, blushing at his words, "The fans love the different new sound you use in the song. Very different from what we are used to and it’s beautiful to listen to. Feels almost… How do I describe it? Dream-like? I guess that’s why you use it, the idea of a person of your dreams? Is that what you were alluding to?”

Your breath hitches at the irony, you feel a small pang at your heart. You convince yourself out of the delusion, as he takes a bit longer to answer.

"Yeah I guess, the person of my dreams..." He pauses, and looks back up to give another smile, "That's exactly what it is."

As he finishes the interview, he glances over the room, trying to meet eyes with everyone. When his gaze sweeps in your direction, your heart races, bending down to pretend to tie your laces (you’re wearing heels). You feel a bit pathetic in admitting you don’t want him to meet your eyes and move on, solidifying that everything you experienced was, in fact, just a figure of your imaginations and dreams. When you straighten up, he’s completed his scan, his expression tinged with a hint of disappointment - maybe he lost his manager?

The night goes on and you’re thankful that you’re kept busy ensuring everything is running smoothly behind the scenes. Yet, he does linger in mind and your heart, making it hard to fully focus. When you complete your final task in seeing the catering company off, your manager tells you to enjoy the party, but you can’t. You could go in the main hall and meet new people but a tightness settles in your chest. You feel like you’re choking up.

You step outside to the balcony, the designated smoking area. You quit smoking after dream-Yoongi told you he was trying to stop, and you both agreed to quit together. So, you just look out into the distance, feeling a bittersweet pang. You breathe in and out in the patterns dream-Yoongi taught you, the memories wrapping around you like a warm, comforting hug. You curse him for being such an indelible part of your life.

As your breathing stabilises, you take in the Seoul city night lights. Dream-Yoongi was right: it’s a devastatingly beautiful city at night, a beauty you can’t help but compare to him.

You hear the door open and freeze at the familiar voice speaking on the phone. You feel your whole body freeze and tense, gripping on the balcony railing for support. He ends the call, speaking in his dialect, so you only recognise bits of the conversation - turns out dream-you understanding fluent Korean didn’t mean the real-you did too.

You feel the urge to hide, but you tell yourself it’s ridiculous: he doesn’t know who you are and you need to accept that. Instead, you decide this is a rare opportunity to say hi to him as a fan because you always have been one. You’ve always admired him. You remind yourself that this would probably be the first and the last time you would ever be in this situation, even if his unfamiliarity would completely wreck you.

Taking in one final deep breath, you turn to look at him and smile, a mix of nervousness and that tragic feeling of love coursing through you. He looks at you and freezes, eyes widening slightly. You tell yourself you’re deluding yourself in imagining the recognition on his face, especially as he nonchalantly puts a cigarette between his lips and reaches for a lighter. He probably just got a shock from seeing someone there.

However, he keeps staring at you, his eyes effortlessly tracing your features and your body with a curious intensity that is so familiar yet makes you feel self-conscious. You can tell he’s trying to suppress a smile at your star-stricken expression.

Okay, so real-Yoongi is a bit of an asshole.

As he is about to light the cigarette, you let out a scoff, almost calling him a liar for betraying the promise dream-Yoongi made about smoking. But you stop yourself, reminding yourself that wasn’t real.

His head tilts at your scoff, a hint of disbelief on his face that is accompanied by his beautiful, almost cocky smile.

"뭐?" he says, his voice curious and playful.

You raise your eyebrows at him in retort. Your heart can’t help but flutter at how attractive this man is, even though he's not as sweet as dream-Yoongi used to be. The longer you guys just stare at each other, you surprisingly feel more comfortable in the presence of this man you technically just met. You can’t help but feel that warmth and familiarity that soothes you. You don’t feel as nervous as you should be meeting Suga of BTS; to you, he feels like dream-Yoongi. 

So, you give him a smile back, butterflies invading your stomach

You know there’s a rumour that real Yoongi is supposedly fluent in English, but you hope he doesn’t understand you in this moment

"You said you were gonna quit with me," you say, referencing the cigarette, "You're a liar."

You’re not sure if you’re surprised when he laughs.

"So you are real then," Yoongi says in English, his eyes sparkling with disbelief.

You gasp as he puts the unlit cigarette behind his right ear. He laughs again, a warm, familiar and disarming sound that sends your heart into overdrive. He walks up to you, his breath coming a little faster, paralleling your own.

"Wait, what?" you question, your mind reeling with the implications of his words.

Your confusion deepens when he places his hands on either side of your face, his touch gentle yet firm. His intense eyes gaze over your features with what you now accept is recognition and familiarity. His gummy smile widens as he takes in the sight of you. You can't tell if the loud beating heart is yours or his (or both).

He pulls you in for a hug. It feels real, yet so familiar, like slipping into a cherished memory. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, bending down to rest his head in your neck. This time, you don't feel hazy, and for once, you don’t feel rushed. Instead, the world seems to slow down, comforting you both at this moment.

Then you hear him, his voice muffled in the crook of your neck, filled with wonder and relief.

"You're real."

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You usually slept on your back, worried about the day someone came into your room to do something. It was all you ever thought about the moment you were told why your parents truly made you the queen. 

You weren’t a light sleeper by any means, so you knew the moment someone stepped into your room something was going to happen. It wasn’t one of your guards who would announce their presence or even your family who you knew the staff would call out to you the moment they slammed the door open. 

You didn’t dare to move. Not when you could hear their steps in the room that were clearly trying to be quiet. Anyone who wasn’t trained to listen in to their surroundings were bound to be caught off guard by whoever it was. However after spending the last few years in fear of being killed in your sleep you taught yourself to pick up on the smallest of things.

You felt them reach the side of your bed, but still you didn’t move. You took in a deep breath, waiting for them to strike. When you made to move your body just the tiniest of bits, your eyes flew wide open at the person who suddenly had you pinned to your bed–a sharp blade placed against your throat. 

You swallowed softly, looking up into the face of your assassin. The light from outside the room was barely enough, but you could make out the scar that ran along the right side of his face. His cheeks that look round. The band that was tied against his forehead. The blonde hair that was neatly wrapped in a bun.

You didn’t make a sound though, only allowing your eyes to follow along his face. You could tell that after a moment, he began to grow confused, his eyebrows pulling together and head tilting to the side. 

You made no show of trying to fight him off. You didn’t even breathe harshly. Instead he watched as your eyes scanned over his face, eyes glittering in the moonlight that showed through the curtains. It left him baffled as you kept an even expression to it all.

“Why aren't you terrified?” He asked, clenching the blade’s handle. 

“There are things more terrifying than death.” You whispered, catching his attention.

There was a sad expression behind your eyes. He could see it hidden behind your facade. He almost faltered when he came to the realization that you were waiting for him to move the knife. But his resolve came back, quickly shaking his head to clear it.

“Then you should be thankful.” He sneered. 

He pressed the knife deep just barely breaking the skin. But he stopped completely when all you did was fall limply and close your eyes. His breath got caught in his throat, feeling conflicted over the way you were acting. 

He was told about how much of a tyrant the queen was. How she would strike at anyone who dared to even breathe in her direction. She was cruel and followed in her parents footsteps of ruling the kingdom with fear. Those who worked in the castle that were part of the rebellion had all said she was an emotionless person who didn’t even bother to look at when someone was being punished, not bothering to spare them her time. 

She was a menace, someone who didn’t deserve to be on the throne. But yet, here she was under his grip awaiting death to come to her without so much as a fight. She was hiding things behind her eyes that would be released come death. But Yoongi didn’t feel it in his heart to kill someone like that. Someone who was willing to give up their life for something haunting them.

He couldn’t stand to see others that way. Not when he had been there before. 

You felt the blade lose its pressure, opening your eyes to look at him once again. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“Are you questioning me when I have a knife to your neck?” He sneered, pressing the knife back to you.

“I thought you were going to—”

“Quiet.” He growled, slamming a fist into the pillow next to you. 

“Why aren't you calling for help?” He asked, moving to hover above you, his knife next to your head. 

“Who will be there to help me?” You whispered once more in that sad voice. 

“Your grace!” Someone called from outside of your bedroom. 

The man’s head snapped to the direction of the door, hearing the handles begin to twist to signal someone was going to come in. The assassin was quick to jump off the bed and out into the night without so much as a second in between. You rushed out of your bedspread, not caring about being in your nightgown. All you cared about was getting to stop the man. 

“Wait—”

You froze at the bottom of the steps that lead outside, catching as he turned around to face you under a lamp post. You could finally see his face in its entirety. The scar ran along his eye and down to his cheek. You were still as his face seemed to burn itself into your memory. You wanted to call out for him, ask him what he was doing. 

But there was something stopping you. The way he looked at you like he was torn. It was gone in a flash just as he was following the calling of your name from your bedroom. 

“(Y/N)?” You turned to find your personal guard looking around the room for you. “What are you doing outside?” He asked, walking up to you.

“Couldn't sleep.” You spoke softly. 

“What brings you by?” You asked the man, turning to face him. 

“I heard a man's voice. It was hostile.” He looked around the room just to make sure, moving things around that created dark spots.

“You have sharp hearing, Namjoon.” You smiled softly. 

“Nothing to worry about. Everything is fine.” You walked closer to him, causing him to look at you. 

You watched as his eyes went wide, hand reaching out to touch your neck. 

“You’re bleeding.” He wiped his thumb along the miniscule cut the man’s knife had left. 

You moved to wipe at it yourself, coming with bloody fingers. You furrowed your eyebrows, sighing to yourself. 

“I probably just scratched myself in my sleep.” You told him.

Namjoon was perceptive, but he wasn’t going to question it because he knew you. No matter how much he wanted to care for you when you got hurt, you were someone who kept to themselves. You weren’t going to allow others to know your pain. 

“I’ll clean it for you.” He said. 

You allowed the man to do as he pleased. You suddenly felt much too tired to allow yourself the time to clean up the wound. Besides, you always enjoyed your moments with Namjoon. He had been there since you became the so-called queen. He watched them put the crown on your head. Watched with a harsh breath and flare nostrils as he knew the truth behind it all. 

The only one who did. 

As you felt is large hands press softly into the skin of your neck you almost wanted to flinch at how easy it was for him to actually kill you. There will always be people out there much more skilled than you ever could be. Much more powerful. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you thought about it. You felt useless–like you life was miniscule. And it was in the eyes of your family. You didn’t realize a tear fell down your cheek until Namjoon moved to wipe at it. 

“Are you truly okay, my queen?”

Namjoon’s acknowledgment of your title had you squaring your shoulders, looking at the man with a small smile on your face. 

He was right. You were the queen–the one everyone called her majesty or bowed their heads to when you walked. It wasn’t your parents–your sister who walked with a smaller crown. It was you. Even if your family was the one who told you what to do in the end–you were the one who the kingdom saw as its queen. And you knew it was time to step into that role.

**

The time that passed was a long one. New bruises and wounds turned up on your body–hidden behind the hanbok you would wear. They would never dare to strike you across the face, not when the entire kingdom could see. They had images to keep up and people to boss around. It was their kingdom but you were the one they hated. 

You still walked with your head held high, nose turned up as you tried to remain emotionless. You had learned to perfect the look with all the eyes that followed you everywhere. You didn’t dare to showcase any kind of emotion. You knew if you did they would see it. And they didn’t want their subjects to know the queen was being ruled by fear. 

“Choosing a warrior for the princess is a perfect way of having her protected.” Your father’s general walked alongside the both of you. 

“Here are the fine gentlemen who decided to take up the mantle. It gives the common people a chance as well to be part of the royal court.” He explained looking over the men he had watched train to be the best warriors they could be. 

There were a total of 50 young and older men all standing in rows with hands behind their backs and legs spread to shoulder length. You didn’t bother to look at them because you knew that your family had already chosen you. 

“Thank you, general.” Your father smiled brightly. “We would only want the best for our daughter.”

He turned to you, the grin on his lips making your stomach turn as you tried not to sneer. Your eyes immediately dropped from his face, turning around as you finally began to scan the warriors who suddenly raised their heads at your discretion. 

“Your grace, please be sure to choose wisely. Munhee is your twin sister–she deserves to be protected just as much as you.” He offered in a sickenly sweet tone. 

“Of course, father.” You spoke monotonously. 

You begin to walk through the men, only picking you head up to give them a glance but continuing forward. You could see some of them gulp in worry while others let out breaths from your monotonous look. You were only courteous, meeting some of their eyes in order to make them think you were actually picking on your own. 

You continued on through the rows, trying your best to act like your parents had told you to. But there was a second–just one second–where your facade dropped and you came to stand still. He stood in another row, a bit shorter than those next to him. But he still kept a stoic face–facing forward in the position the general had them all stand. 

He was to the right of you, giving you the opportunity to see the long scar that ran down his face. There was a flutter in your heart that was created by anxiety. But it was fear, it was an anticipation that would lead you to win. 

No one noticed the way you stopped to stare or the way you started to breath harshly. Namjoon had been the only one, eyes moving to scan the crowd as he tried to find what made you stop. Your father continued forward with the general speaking to himself as he thought you were walking alongside him. 

“I hear that Sooyoung is quite the—”

“Him.” You interrupted your father. 

“What?” He stopped, turning around to quickly find who you were looking at. “Who?” 

You moved with calculated steps towards him, but he didn’t move from his position. 

“The one with the scar?” Your father spoke bewildered, glancing between you and the man. “But your grace, you can't possibly want—”

“I'm positive he is more than capable of taking care of Munhee.” You didn’t dare to move your eyes from the man. “He looks like he's been through tough battles.”

“Oh well, I don't remember seeing him during training much.” The general frowned as he squinted his eyes at the scar on the man’s cheek. 

“He does seem to have a memorable enough face.” The  general tsked but moved to turn away and back to the front of the rows of men. “Step forward boy!” 

With one last look at him, you turned to Namjoon who was following closely behind you. You watched him take in a breath, eyes scanning the man over as his eyebrows pulled together. Your face remained emotionless, turning around while lifting your nose up. You could see your father sneering as he began to follow behind you. 

“State your name.” The general asked once all of you made it to the front. 

“Agust.” He spoke deeply.

“What an odd name.” Your father waved off.

“Sounds western.” The general nodded to himself. 

“Are you positive this is the one you will choose your grace?” Your father spoke up. 

You could see the fury behind his eyes, the one that was clearly telling you to back out of the problem you had placed them all in. But you looked at him the same way you always would, not daring to move your head from his stare. You felt Namjoon grow closer to your back, his warmth seeping into your clothes. You moved your hand from under your sleeve–a silent request to tell him everything was okay. 

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. 

“Very well. The ceremony shall take place later this afternoon.” The general spoke up, humming to himself as he began to gather the other men. 

Yoongi watched as you didn’t give your father another look, walking away quickly with both your father and guard on your heels. Your robe billowed behind you as you fast walked, but he was quick to notice the way your father rushed up to you and caught our arm before the doors to the palace shut behind you all. 

“(Y/N), what is the meaning of this?” Your father sneered, gripping onto your arm tightly. “We decided already who would be the royal guard.”

“I'm sorry—” You flinched, unnoticed by the way you spoke with no emotions. 

Your lips turned downwards, a sneer waiting to overtake your face at the way your father was clutching tightly onto your wrist–enough to know it would be bruised in a little bit. Your hands clenched up, nails wanting to scratch at his arm for hurting you. But it wasn’t the right time.

“We will talk later.” With one last tight squeeze your father threw your arm from his grasp. 

It made you jerk backwards, teeth clenched as you were quick to soothe the ache. 

“Are you alright?” Namjoon walked closer to you, fingers lightly falling down your arm to take a look.

“Yes, I'm fine Namjoon.” You spoke, your emotionless voice causing him to straighten up.

As your gaze landed back on the closed doors the only thing that crossed your mind was the scar along that man’s cheek. There was no mistaking that mark–it was one that seemed to alter your way of thinking all together. You were brought back to the night that he held the knife to your neck. Made you bleed and a small barely noticeable scar being left behind. 

Your hand went up to your neck, feeling the uneven skin under your fingertips. 

“Namjoon, would you protect me if someone was to come and assassinate me?” You suddenly spoke up, looking towards the doors that lead to the courtyard. 

“What kind of question is that?” The man gasped, looking at your incredulously. “Of course I would—with my life.”

“Why?” You said absent mindlessly. 

“Because I am your royal guard—”

“Did you know there are people trying to kill the queen?” You stopped him, turning to face him completely. 

He gulped, watching as you grew closer to him. “Isn't there always? But that won't stop me from protecting you.”

“It's a rebellion, isn't it? People wanting to kill me.” You quietly spoke, watching as his eyes scanned over your face before falling to your neck where he could see the scar. 

His breathing began to grow rapidly, as he tried to come up with an answer. “They don't want to kill you—”

“So you know about it?”

“(Y/N), I swear I know nothing about it—” He began to sputter. 

“Namjoon, you are the only person I can trust in this palace. The only one who knows the truth. And now I want you to be honest with me. As your queen, I demand you tell me the truth.” You demanded. 

He suddenly stood up straight, taking in a deep breath. “Yes, your grace. There is a rebellion that is out to kill the queen. But it's not you they are after, it's Munhee. At least the one they're really after is Munhee.” 

There was something that seemed to lift off your shoulder hearing those words. It didn’t make you feel any better however it did make you understand that there were plans that needed to be put into motion. Plans that you were going to accomplish with certain people on your side. 

“(Y/N), did something happen?” He asked.

“That man.” You spoke up. “The one I placed as Munhee’s guard. You know him. I saw it in your face when I chose him.” 

He watched as your nose twitched and your eyes went glassy. “Namjoon, are you part of the rebellion?” 

“Never!” Namjoon shouted, taking a step closer to you. “I could never do you harm or wish for something as cruel as that to come to you. You mean everything to me. I will stop at nothing to protect you from those who wish you harm.”

Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment at his confession. His eyes expressed just how much he meant every word. Namjoon was the one person who had been with you since you were a girl hiding in corners from the abuse you would suffer at the hands of your family. He has seen you at your worst. Which means you had to be better for him. 

“Then how do you know him?” You asked. 

“I don’t personally know him. I’ve only ever seen him around the kingdom a couple of times.” Namjoon licked his lips, answering truthfully. 

He paused for a moment, pressing his lips together. “However, there could be someone who might.”

**

The ceremony wasn’t anything spectacular. Only the army was present and those of the palace staff. After the general proclaimed his speech to those around, he handed you a sword which you took in a tight grip walking forward towards Agust who kneeled at the stop of the stairs. 

“It is an honor to serve the royal family. As royal guard to the princess you shall take up the mantle as her protector.” You prattled off. 

“You shall put your life before hers to guarantee her safety. Do you accept this position?” You spoke loudly, keeping your eyes downcasted on the man who was kneeling in front of you. 

“Yes.” He spoke up, keeping his face down to the ground. 

“I hereby name you a royal guard to princess Munhee. May your sword always be sharp and your will always stay strong.” You ended, making him rise to grip onto the sword you were handing over to him. 

As he reached out for the sword that laid on your palms, your sleeve had moved down your arm, giving him full view of the darkening bruises in the shape of fingers on your wrist. He watched your hand suddenly clench onto the blade of the sword catching his attention and making him look up into your eyes. 

Your face still remained emotionless, but you made a small movement to get him to take the sword. He was quick to take it, bowing his head once more as he began to sheath the blade. Your hands fell to your side, causing the sleeve to fall over your wrist once more. 

There wasn’t much left of the ceremony other than you giving an emotionless speech about how you were grateful to the army for what they did. Once everything ended on a normal tone, the royal family turned around to enter the palace with the new royal guard in tow behind the entire entourage. 

“I can't believe this is the man you appointed!” Munhee screeched. “How stupid can you be!? Haven't you already done enough!?” 

She had been stomping her feet in front of you but quickly turned around to strike you across the face. Your face whipped to the side, not expecting the hit but you didn’t dare to make a sound or move a hand up to cradle your wound.

Yoongi watched with an emotionless face as you seemed to keep up the facade. Your guard was quick to step up to you, getting between you and the so-called princess. Yoongi glared at all of you, eyebrows pulling together at the debacle. 

“You insolent girl. You deserve everything that is coming your way.” She sneered at you.

“Munhee!” The old king sneered. “Do not strike her face!? How many times have we told you!?”

His eyebrows only seemed to pull together deeper, trying to figure out what the whole dynamic was between everyone. It seemed you only remained emotionless as your large guard took your arm softly. 

He didn’t understand what your place was in all of this. You were the queen who was above all of these people. And yet they seemed to take pleasure in screaming at you. You didn’t give any reaction to their words or actions–allowing them to do as they pleased. You were no queen after the whole thing. 

“Namjoon, take her to the healers quickly before she bruises.” Your father turned to your royal guard. “They have to fix it before she goes out in public.”

“Of course.” Namjoon spoke through a clenched jaw, softly pulling you along. 

You didn’t give Yoongi another look, keeping your head up as pieces of your hair fell out of your headpiece and into your face. He watched you leave before turning around as he heard the princess stomp closer to him. 

“Ugly, good for nothing.” The princess sneered, quickly turning from him. “Don't look at me. Your face belongs in a cell.”

The way she had her lips pulled up and nose scrunched up made her look ugly. It seemed she had done that face so much it stuck to her skin. It was clear she was your twin somehow but for some reason Yoongi found himself claiming your face was much easier to look at. 

“Forgive me.” Yoongi spoke monotonously. 

“What do we do with him?” Munhee didn’t pay him any mind, turning to her parents. 

“We'll have Namjoon teach him for now.” The old queen spoke carelessly. “Until we have a reason to get rid of him we can't do much. That would mean forsaking the general and his warriors.”

“Stupid traditions.” Munhee rolled her eyes. “Fine, keep him out of my sight. And give him a mask for when he is. I cannot stand to look at him.” She gave him one last sneer of her lips, stomping away with her parents in tow. 

“Of course.” Some guard for your parents announced. 

He began to walk away, so Yoongi assumed he was to follow after his superior. He was taken out of the back gardens and into another part of the palace. There were curtains that were billowing out of the room that gave it enough breeze. The guard takes Yoongi around the building towards the doors. 

“You may stay here for the time being.” The guard explained, opening the doors to a wide spacious room. 

“I will be sure to inform Namjoon of your whereabouts.” He bowed his head before turning to leave.

Yoongi had assumed he was left alone, watching with a raised brow as the guard seemed to walk away quickly. However when he suddenly felt a presence behind him, he was quick to turn. He watched as a stunning man seemed to tilt his head in confusion at the man. 

He was dressed in a translucent robe that draped down his body. He wore expensive looking jewelry and was cleaned much better than even the royal family themselves. Yoongi could smell the perfumes the man wore from where he stood a good three feet away. 

“New concubine? But no one said anything about it.” He spoke with a deep voice, but his eyes held childish wonder. 

“Concubine?” Yoongi questioned.

“Are you not one?” The man asked, stepping closer to the scarred one. “Isn't that why they brought you here?”

“I was appointed as royal guard to the princess.” Yoongi immediately answered, keeping his stare on the handsome man. 

“Makes more sense.” The concubine nodded to himself, lips forming a perfect pout. “Princess Munhee would never choose you.”

Yoongi suddenly frowned, giving the man an offended look.

“Taehyung, don't be rude.” Someone behind Yoongi spoke up. 

He quickly turned around finding another man dressed the same as the one in front of him. However, this one seemed to have puffier cheeks and shorter in structure. He also carried himself more sensually–confident in what he looked like. 

“I still think you're very handsome.” He smiled softly at Yoongi. “My name is Jimin. This is Taehyung. We are concubines for Princess Munhee.”

Once more the assassin was left confused. Why weren’t they concubines for the queen herself? It wasn’t really known that the princess had some of her own. 

“The princess? Not the queen?” He spoke out loud.

“She doesn't have any.” Taehyung answered. 

“Well except for Jungkook but he's just for show. He says he's never been with her let alone her bedroom. He's still a lucky bastard though.  I wish I was (Y/N)'s concubine.” He pouted, crossing his arms in a childish manner. 

“You like the queen?” Yoongi asked baffled. 

“Like?” Taehyung tilted his head to the side. “I love her! She's so kind and patient. She always treats our wounds after we've been with Munhee. She gives us extra sweets when she comes to see us. Anyone would fall in love with her.” He sighed dreamily.

Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear all that was falling from the poor man’s mouth. He only saw someone who had been brainwashed into thinking the queen was someone kind and nurturing. It did leave him a bit baffled to remember that it was the queen who had been striked across the face by the princess but that didn’t mean her emotionless heart wasn’t real. It was clear by the way she didn't react to the way she was treated. 

“She is a tyrant. How can you stand to live here as concubines? You don't get to see your family and as you said, you get wounds from the princess—”

“Exactly. From the princess.” Jimin interrupted, coming to stand in front of Yoongi. 

Jimin looked at him with squinted eyes that made him look seductive. But his words made it seem like Jimin was waiting for Yoongi to figure everything out. “There are things within the palace that are not correct. You'll find that out soon enough.” He told the man vaguely. 

The door suddenly open and all three men turned to look at who had entered. Taehyung beamed at Namjoon who gave the two concubines a bow of his head. Jimin only gave the man a small smile twirling around to go back to whatever it was he was doing before Yoongi had entered. 

“Agust, please follow me.” Namjoon called for him.  

Yoongi gave the two concubines one last look before following after the larger man. He began to lead him back to the main building, Yoongi trying to memorize the journey. 

“My name is Kim Namjoon—you can call me Namjoon. I am the royal guard to queen (Y/N). We will be working together closely.” He explained. 

Yoongi paused for a moment, clenching his jaw as he thought about the woman. “The queen—what did they do?”

“They gave her a cold patch.”

He lead Yoongi to another section of the palace that seemed to be full of different kinds of staff. It was close to the rooms of the royal families so Yoongi only assumed it was the building he would be staying in. 

“This is where we stay. We share a room along with the other royal guards.” It was a quick thing before Namjoon took off once more from the guard quarters.  

As Yoongi was looking around, trying to find escape routes or hiding places he didn’t notice Namjoon had come to a stop causing him to bump into the man. 

“What are you doing here? Do you know the risks of getting caught? You should leave before something happens to both you and the queen.” Namjoon quickly spoke, causing Yoongi to look at him oddly. 

Namjoon had a stern expression on his face but he didn’t care to reach out to kill the smaller man. It was clear that Namjoon knew who Yoongi was the moment he came into the palace. Namjoon was someone often spoken about within the group. One of the people who worked within the palace had explained that Namjoon would do anything to protect the queen from harm. 

However he also said that Namjoon would be more than willing to be on their side. It left him at a confused headspace over the bigger man. 

“I know that more than anything what will happen. I have a mission to complete. I can’t go back without results.” Yoongi spoke harshly. 

“For what? A murder that is unjustified?” Namjoon glared. 

“You know as well as everyone else just how justified it really is.” Yoongi retorted.

“I know you’re out to kill the wrong person. If you think you were the only one thinking about infiltrating the palace, you would be wrong.” Namjoon has his arms crossed, trying to make himself look bigger to intimidate the scarred man. 

“Namjoon?” A soft voice spoke up behind them. 

“I’m here, your grace.” Namjoon turned around to face you, watching as you walked closer to them with smaller robes that were easier to walk in. 

“Hello. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” You spoke up calmly, staring Yoongi down. 

“Cut the small talk. Why did you choose me?” Yoongi sneered, knowing the three of you were alone from others to keep from saying what he wanted. 

Namjoon glared, about to take a step towards him but you subtly moved your hand out to keep him from getting closer. 

“Did you not want to be chosen? Isn’t that why you infiltrated the army and applied to be the personal guard for Princess Munhee?” You questioned him.

“Why did you select me?” Yoongi pressed again.

You took a moment, irking him as you looked down at him. 

“I don’t know.” You merely shrugged.

“I can kill you right now.” He placed a hand on the sword you had given him, causing Namjoon to reach for his own.

You stopped them though when you walked closer to Yoongi. “You can but it won’t solve your problems.”

“It will solve many.” He sneered. 

“That’s what you think.” You told him.

He felt something in his chest watching you. He knew it was you, knew by the little scar that was under your head from the knick his blade had left months ago. Knew by the way you softly stared at him waiting for his next moves.

However you were different now. Different in the way you spoke—the way you held yourself. It was nighttime then though, he has never seen you before. But speaking with you now it wasn’t the same as the woman who was awaiting death with open arms.

“Where is she?” Yoongi asked. 

“Who?”

“The girl who waited for me to move my blade. The one who was hoping I would.” He spoke quietly, keeping you stare.

“I found a better chance.” You told him, speaking in that voice that told him how there were worse things to fear other than death. 

“One that lets me live the way I want. My personal guard will make sure to tell you of your duties. Do not mess it up.” You added sternly.

You turned around, Namjoon giving Yoongi one last harsh stare before turning to follow after you.

** 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Namjoon asks you.

“I have suffered my whole life just for others to come and kill me in place of my sister.” You spoke softly looking down at the paper you had been writing on. “I’m done being the decoy they know they need. The plaything they would have their fun with when they were angry.”

You looked up when knocking comes from the door. “I was made the queen. And as far as the kingdom knows I am the Empress who rules. So that is what I will be.”

The double doors open wide as Yoongi struts his way in. Namjoon stands behind you with his hands clasped in front of him. He glanced your way, taking note of how you don’t bother to look up at him. From what the other concubines have claimed of you, Yoongi has yet to see it. 

“Sit.” You tell him, going back to writing a letter. 

He listens to your demand, sitting cross legged in front of your table as he waits for you to say something. It takes another 10 minutes before you do. By then Yoongi had a frown on his face from having wasted time sitting in front you, waiting.

“I have something to ask of you.” You told him.

When all you got was a raised brow, you continued. “I need you to take this to your leader.” You rolled up your letter and pushed it forward towards Yoongi.

“Leader?” He questioned.

“Don’t take me for a fool.” You clenched your jaw. “Someone sent you to kill me. And now I want to send them a letter.”

“Are you mad?” Yoongi scoffed.

“Not always.” You shrugged. “But you get tired after so much.” 

There it was again—the jab at your past. The jab in Yoongi’s chest that made him rethink about killing you. It was the suffering he heard in your voice. The one that didn’t care about what happened to them because they had already been through so much. 

“I don’t get it.” Yoongi told you. 

“Don’t get what?” You questioned.

“This!?” He says pointing to the letter you wanted him to send to his leader “Everything around the place. I came here knowing one thing but come to learn it’s not right.” 

“Information can get lost in translation.” You waved him off.

There was so much he didn’t understand. He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with those in the group about the whole thing because he had been training with the army for the past couple of months. All he knew was that the queen was a tyrant who treated the people of her kingdom unfairly. 

But now he wanted to know if he was looking at the right person. 

“Tell me something.” Yoongi demanded.

“What is that?” You asked him.

“That a queen would allow someone beneath her to strike her.” He told you.

“What makes you think I’m not?” You asked him. 

“Not what?”

“Beneath them?” You take a deep breath thinking over something. “At least in their eyes.” 

This made him stop for moment. After witnessing the actions of her family Yoongi came to realize there were things wrong with the royal family. And after hearing the words of those who worked closely with them it was clear that the choice he made of sparing you was one that left his conscious free of guilt. 

“Are you trusting me?” He questioned you, realizing that you were about to tell him the truth.

“You’re going to find out sooner or later. In case you haven’t—I’m not the real queen. I’m only the one who takes the harsh blows of the tyranny my family causes. I’m just their scapegoat.” You explained. 

“If you do your job right there should be no consequences. You have my word.” You told him.

“Which job?” He questioned. 

“You should know which one, Min Yoongi.”

Pt. 2 Y’all? Be sure to apply to my permenant taglist so you can be added to Pt. 2 if I come out with it lol.