#bangtan poly

Jin flashed you a cheeky smile. “I hope you three are not planning anything indecent in the house while the others are gone,” he said, watching your face turn red as your eyes went wide with panic.

“He knows,” Yoongi whispered in your ear. “It’s alright.”

“Wh-what?” you stammered. Jin’s eyebrows raised. Did they not tell you? Should’ve he said nothing? He didn’t mean to put you in the spotlight. As much as he thought Hoseok and Yoongi were being stupid and reckless, he didn’t hold it against you. They should’ve known better than to play with a lady’s heart, much less with a beautiful one like yours. 

Jin paused his thoughts. Well, he wasn’t wrong. You were beautiful, he’d give Hoseok and Yoongi that. Which makes even less sense that Hoseok would even dream about sharing you. If it was him, he’s keep you locked up in his room for only his eyes to-

There it was again. To be honest, he’s never seen anyone with your type of beauty before, the kind that seemed to be haunting the more he looked; calling out to him like intrusive whispers in his ears. He’s met countless women that would’ve been a sea of roses compared to your quiet daisy-like charm, had had his pick and courted a few of them even, and yet you, the one Hoseok had claimed first…

As Hoseok, Yoongi and you engaged in a furious bout of whispering, Jin distracted himself by getting a drink, his movements deliberate and slow to give them some space. It wasn’t his first time seeing you and yet this time he needed to get his thoughts in order. They were all over the place and Seokjin was a tidy man. Still is. 

When the furious under-breaths talk finally subsided, Jin turned around, feigning nonchalance as he put his plans into motion. “So,” he said, looking at the three of them. “I don’t know what your plans were but Yoongi, aren’t you supposed to be joining Jungkook at that timber council?”

He watched as Yoongi’s eyes grew wide in alarm. It doesn’t take him long to disappear out the door again in a cloud of dust, mumbling curses as he went. Now how does he get rid of Hoseok? But that problem solved itself, much to Jin’s relief.

“Shit,” Hoseok cursed. “I promised Taehyung I’d help him at the shop.”

“Today?” you frowned in concern. “But isn’t that tomorrow?”

“The same day as Kook’s timber council, that’s how I remembered it,” replied Hoseok as he gathered up his things. “Sorry, love.” He planted a soft kiss on your temple. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

The silence that followed was awkward to say the least, as you shuffled from one foot to the next, contemplating on what to do. “I guess I’ll go, too,” you murmured without looking at the oldest brother. 

“Why? Stay. Let me get to know you better. Since you’re dating my brother. Ss.” Jin offered with a smile. “Come. Sit. I’ll make you a cup of tea. Do you like whiskey in it?”

“Pardon?”

Jin laughed. “I jest. Don’t worry, no whiskey for you, little one.”

“I can drink,” you retorted and Jin noticed the pout on your lips, the pout that he’ll grow to love one day. You joined him to watch what he made. He moved around the kitchen almost fluidly, flitting from the cabinet to grab one thing and then coming back to add them into the tall jar of dark brown liquid. Tea, you supposed, but couldn't be sure because of the smell from the whiskey bottle that was opened next to it. 

Jin took out two mugs and poured out the tea. He handed one to you but not without noticing the way you glanced at the opened bottle of whiskey briefly before taking a small sip, smacking your lips to taste it. Jin smirked behind the rim of his own mug. “Come, come,” he called, leading you to the back of the house. “Walk with me, little one.”

You tried but Jin’s legs were longer.  Every one of his strides equal to two quick steps of yours as you desperately prevented the tea from sloshing too aggressively against the side of the mug. When he finally stopped, you’re standing a few feet away from a small creek that seemed to be coming out of the woods and running across the land towards the direction of town. 

“Can you swim?” 

Jin watched as your eyebrows arched in surprise at his random question. “Yes,” you replied but it sounded more like a question. The look on your face tickled him so he asked, “Would you like to? Right now?”

It took you five whole seconds (Jin counted) to finally gasp out, “No!”

Jin laughed, one hand on his side. Again, your answer had a rising tone at the end and it amused him. It was like you weren’t even sure of your own answer even if the look on your face told him that you think he’d lost his marbles. It’s the middle of fall and although it was a sunny warm day, the wind still had a nipping chill to it everytime it blew through your hair. 

“Calm down,” said Jin with a smile. “I’m jesting.”

“You jest a lot, sir,” you said with a pout, eyes glancing back towards the water. For a brief moment, Jin thought he saw a twinkle in your eyes, like the thought of actually going into the water did cross your mind and it made him curious. Curious about you. Curious for you. 

Jin approached you, standing side by side close enough that your skirt brushed his fingers every time it fluttered in the wind. The fabric was soft and Jin found himself wondering if your skin would be softer. For a brief moment, an emotion he didn’t recognise flared inside his chest; hot and red at the thought of Hoseok and Yoongi being able to freely hold your hand if they wanted to. He fisted his fingers, nails digging into his palm as he smiled at you, a smile that made you blush and turn away instantly, heart fluttering. 

Jin looked back towards the water at his feet. A question formed in his head and he opened his mouth to ask you, hesitating only once, thinking it might be cruel. But his curiosity got the better of him. “If Hoseok and Yoongi were drowning,” he said, arranging his words carefully, “which one would you save first?”

You slowly turned to look at him, your face a mixture of surprise and confused at the sudden yet morbid question. You studied his face but Jin didn’t give anything away as he waited for your answer. 

“That’s like asking who I love more, my mother or father,” you said quietly. Jin shrugged his shoulders. “But I have neither,” you continued. “So…”

Jin looked back at you, waiting.

“Which one would you save first?”

Slightly taken aback, Jin retorted with a laugh, “Whoever was closest to me, of course.” He laughed a little more before the question mulled around in his head. “But honestly, I don’t know. I want to save them both.” He scoffed at himself. “That was a stupid question.”

A long quietness descended between you and Jin as you both entertained your own private thoughts, the tea growing cold in between your palms. Jin thought of turning back around, back to the house so they can move away from this awkwardness. Just as he worked up the determination to invite you back to the house, you speak, your voice so low Jin almost missed it.

“I’d die along with them.” 

You take a deep breath. 

“We’d all have died. If I can only save one, half of me would’ve died with him and what kind of life would that be?” Your forehead furrowed ever so slightly. “And neither of them would live if the other died. Not truly. Thus, no one will have survived.”

Jin stared at you, unblinking. Then nodded his head sombrely. He understood it clearly so he didn't bother to say anything more. 

Unbeknownst to him, and as dark as it was, that was the moment he fell; the moment his fate was sealed to a kindred spirit, forever to be intertwined with yours; seven souls growing like grape vines around an arbour that is you. And if he knew then, he’d reckon he’ll be okay with it. There would be nothing else Jin would live and die for. 

~~~

“Would you take a bullet for me?”

Nick guffawed out loud at the question, moving away from me to the other end of the couch. The movie on the TV was paused. “Hell nah! That’s crazy!”

I rolled my eyes at his dramatics but it slightly stung anyway. “It’s just a hypothetical question.”

“You’re chronically online, babe,” he said, getting up to get another beer from the fridge. “So influenced by all those fake relationships you see on there. You need to get a hobby.”

“I have a hobby,” I murmured under my breath.

“Like, I don’t know, learning how to cook?” he continued, not listening.

“What’s wrong with my cooking?” I snapped, standing up to face him. 

Nick shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I’m tired of eating pasta on Fridays.”

“Pasta Fridays was your idea, Nick,” I countered. 

Again, he shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe you should learn how to make that meanass lasagna Rosie makes all the time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean, Rosie makes it all the time?”

Nick groaned, rolling his eyes now. “See, you’re always focusing on all the wrong things.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m going out. It’s suffocating here.”

The door slammed behind him and in my seething rage, there was one thing I agreed with him: it was getting suffocating here.

***

Heavy. So heavy but I willed my arm to drag Jin out of the water. 

My arms and chest burn but the pain is barely noticed as adrenaline propels me, teeth grinding against each other so hard my jaw is numb. Or is it the frigid water? It feels like I’m fighting against a bag of rocks that only wants to pull me back down to the bottom of the muddy pond. The shore feels like a welcome home once my feet can finally find footing, now able to pull Jin out of the water from under his armpits. Being on land, his full weight seems to have doubled than when we were in the water. 

Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.

Oh, God, please.

I lose my footing and fall on my back, Jin’s head against my stomach. I scramble back to my feet, putting his head gently on the ground and kneel next to him. His dark hair is plastered lifelessly against his forehead, his usually plump lips blue and his face pale. His chest isn’t moving.

Nononononononononono.

Oh, god, please no. 

CPR. I’ve taken the class. I should know how to do this. But I can’t remember. What’s the first step? Fuck!

Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.

Okay. Calm down. I can do this. Chest compressions. Rescue breaths. Okay. I can do this. Oh my god, he’s so cold. Is it too late to even try? I pressed my palm against his chest at the right location and that’s when it hit me, the reality of the situation. The once strong chest is now laying rigid under my fingers. It’s not right. 

Okay, chest compressions.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…17, 18, 19, 20, 21…28, 29, 30.

Pinch nose, tilt head, breathe. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Repeat.

11, 12, 13, 14, 15…25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30.

Pinch nose, tilt head, breathe. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Nothing.

Please, wake up. Please. 

6, 7, 8, 9, 10…17, 18, 19…29, 30.

Breathe. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Nothing.

I scream my throat raw, vision blurry from the tears pooling in my eyes. Desperation turns into frustration, pressing against his chest so hard my shoulders are turning stiff. It angers me even more to think that I have to follow the rhythm of that stupid song to keep it at the right pace. Stupid song. Stupid Jinnie. 

Chest compression. Breathe. Repeat. Chest compression. Breathe. Repeat. Chest compression. Breathe. Repeat.

Another scream of frustration escapes my lips, calling out his name. I don’t know when I started but the crying feels more hysterical now, the tightness in my chest like a cord is wrapped around my heart squeezing it like a vice. Every breath I take feels like a betrayal towards Jin lying there motionless; the air grates against my windpipe, my lungs unable to properly carry out the oxygen to blood process.  Every fibre of my being is in anguish, the pain so physical I feel like an invisible hand is pulling me apart bit by bit.

“I’d die. I’d choose death.”

That’s right. If I can’t save Jin then death will be the only solace. 

My hands cease compressing his heart, slowing down as the burning in my muscles intensify. The world seems to be coming to a halt, too, spinning slower and slower at a slight tilt. I can hear my own heart in my ears, the slow thump, thump, thump, as I slump forward to rest my head on Jin’s cold, unmoving chest. His shoulders, once so wide and strong, now look deflated and hunched in the absence of life. Jin. My Seokjin. Seokjin. 

Kim Seokjin.

That’s right. That’s his name. Why now am I remembering that? What use is his name now?

Kim Seokjin.

I trace my fingers along his jawline. His beautiful face looks peaceful, that perpetual slight frown that he seemed to always have on his face like he’s always worried is gone. He looks young, no more than thirty, perhaps. I scoot up closer to his face, taking my time to take in every detail of his features - his eyelashes, the three moles on his cheek, his luscious lips - like it was my last time, saving them away into my long-term memory so as to not forget him. 

Again.

That’s right. I don’t want to forget him again. 

“Seokjin, please. Don’t make me forget you again.”

~~~

Karma watches you through the leaves, the blackness of his fur camouflages well in the shadows, keeping him hidden for as long as he needs to be. 

He had watched you drag Seokjin out of the water. He watched you pummelled against his chest to get his heart to beat again. He kept himself hidden as you screamed and sobbed against Seokjin’s lifeless body. He bided his time. He needed to see.

His twin tails swish curiously, carefully missing the trees around him to avoid making any sounds. His bicoloured eyes narrowed infinitesimally as he watches you lean over Seokjin’s face, close enough that your noses are touching. This is it, he thinks. His whole body tenses, waiting for till the last second as your lips connect with his. 

Karma jumps out of his hiding place and slithers up close to your side, nudging you lightly. You ignore him, tears streaming down your face, switching between pleading under your breath and saying goodbye. 

It’s my turn.

~~~

“Mreoow.”

Startled, I look up, coming face to face with Karma’s blue-yellow orbs staring intently straight into my eyes. 

He nudges against my arm, soft and gentle, once again looking up to look at me. He glances towards Jin once and his eyes glow brighter. Huh?

Karma lets out another meow, softer this time. I can hear him purring like a little engine, eyes transfixed on Jin’s face. I finally sit up, hesitantly moving away but never not touching Jin. I can’t bear to be away from him. 

I watch as Karma jumps atop Jin’s chest, his paws kneading against the shirt and the first thought I have is that Jin would have been complaining about cat hair if he was awake. 

Karma purrs louder and it’s an odd thing to say but it feels like the sound is vibrating in my chest. With every passing second, he only becomes louder so much that I’m starting to think it’s all around us, buzzing in the wind. The trees around sway, leaves rustling noisily to combine with that vibrating buzzing sound. Everything is shimmering and the earth seems to rattle beneath me. 

Fear struck my heart and I’m in between panicking to run but not wanting to leave Jin lying there alone with that strange cat I had called my own. Karma’s twin tails are sticking straight up, entwined around each other. There’s electric static thick around Karma, like if I reach out my hand to touch him I might get electrocuted so I remain still, my heart in my throat. The hum gets louder and this time it’s for sure not that of a cat’s. 

And then Jin’s eyelids flutter.

~~~

“What does it mean?” You waved your hand at the Anam Cara symbol Jin was carving into the wood. His wine-stained lips reminded you he was on the verge of drunkenness. 

“It means I love you.”

“Really?”

Jin turned to look at you. He wasn’t smiling but the gaze in his eyes was intense. “I love you.”

You stared at him, licking your lips. 

“I said I love you.” Jin leaned in closer, his breath tickling your cheeks. He watched your throat bobbed but you didn't move away. He eyed your slightly parted lips, an invitation he’s accepting gladly. 

He closed the gap, lips brushing yours. “I love you,” he whispered one last time. 

***

“Seokjin?”

It’s dusk, the sky above him tinged red. It takes awhile for his vision to adjust and when it finally does, the first thing he sees is a pair of red, brimming eyes. 

 “Seokjin?” you call out again, your voice cracking. 

He blinks a few times and tries to get up but the weight on his chest stops him from doing so. He strains to look down and is met with the cat’s wet nose. He gags, clamouring to sit up and throwing the cat off. Neither you nor Jin paid any attention as Karma scampers off into the forest as you tackle Jin straight back down to the ground, wailing.

Flabbergasted, Jin lay there staring up at the sky that’s growing darker. He can see a lone star already peeking out and he rummages through his brain trying to remember why you’re so distraught, hands already wrapped around your cold body. 

Wait a minute. You’re wet. He looks down but only sees the top of your soaked hair. He’s wet, too. Drenched. 

“What happened?”

You pause, sitting up and looking at him first in confusion and then your forehead dips into a frown. The softness in your eyes remains but your face crumples once again. But this time in anger.

“You died, that’s what happened! How could you do that to me?!” 

A bewildered Jin sits frozen in place as you thump your fists against him, screaming the same thing over and over again. “You stupid, stupid old man! Walking into the forest all drunk like that! What were you thinking?! If you want to die so much then I’ll kill you myself!” 

Your words start to mix together, incoherent and mostly nonsense to Jin as the rage subsides into tears again but the pounding on his chest never stops and it is starting to hurt a little. His whole body hurts, actually. Jin finally wrestles you, getting ahold of your wrists in one hand and cupping your chin with the other; soft, gentle touches that relent you of your struggling but not the waterworks.

You’re heaving, shoulders moving up and down as you glare at Jin. He isn’t smiling nor is he angry. He understands better than anyone the emotions you’re grappling with because he, too, had once been there. Right here. Right in this same place. The situation had been slowly dawning at him as he recognised his surroundings. How selfish had he been to put you through that; a pain so unbearable it’s a mark on both your soul and his. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs softly. He pulls you closer. “Forgive me.”

You shake your head, wet hair flying into your face. 

“Forgive me, little one,” Jin sobs.

Again, you shake your head, more determinedly this time as Jin continues to chant the words, chest aching not from your punches earlier but from the contrition that’s crushing his once-stilled heart. Finally, you straighten your shoulders and look squarely into his eyes.

“No,” you say through shaky breaths. “Not…until you tell me what it means.”

Jin cocks his eyebrows. 

“The symbol on the attic door,” you explain. “I-” you take a deep breath. “I remember you carving it in. Maybe…maybe from a previous life.”

Jin’s mouth falls open. 

“What does it mean?”

Jin’s mind is still reeling at your revelation of a memory. Maybe it was brief, maybe it was just that specific one but you’re remembering nevertheless, and not just any past lives but that first one, where it all began. He’s also trying to remember what symbol exactly you’re talking about. Then it hits him. You’re alluding him to something.

“The Anam Cara, Jin,” you stress, getting impatient. “What does it mean?”

“I love you,” he breathes out just as he pulls you into him, lips crashing together and it feels like forgiveness as you lean into him to deepen the kiss. He feels your arms wrap tightly around his neck and your legs around his waist and he relishes in this warm, golden feeling, welcoming the love of his life home. Safe, in his arms. Finally, finally.

But not for long.

~~~

“Hyunnnggg!”

“Jin hyunngggg!”

“Hyunngiieeee!”

I look back at Jin, flushing my forehead against his, my fingers in his hair as I hear my name being called out in the distance. Nighttime has finally enveloped us and the wind is starting to bite. I press my lips against his once more, feeling how plush they are, how soft the way Jin kisses me back like I’m delicate. Like he’s holding back. And how warm. Warm, warm lips on warm, warm skin. 

“What do we tell them?” whispers Jin, tucking my hair behind my ear. 

“That you’re an idiot,” I say wetly through a smile. 

Jin scoffs. “Like that’s news to them.”

I laugh.

“There you are!”

We both jump as Jimin suddenly bursts through the trees, a flashlight in one hand. “Hyung!” he cries, making a beeline towards us. “Oh, thank god!”

I barely escaped Jimin’s wrestling hug as I subtly moved aside to make way. He grabs the older man into a tight hug, saying nothing as they embrace. When Jimin finally pulls away, I see the tear track down his cheeks. He gives Jin a once over before noting the wet clothes. He opens his mouth to ask but is cut off by loud rustling noises as another person tumbles into the clearing.

It’s Jungkook, eyes wide and panicky. His eyes lock in on the three of us and it doesn’t take long for him to rush forward and literally pull Jin into his arms. As Jungkook and Jin share a moment, Jimin turns to me.

“You’re wet,” he says, taking off his jacket. He drapes it around my shoulders wordlessly before enfolding me into his arms.

“You idiot!” 

I look up in surprise to see Hoseok in the treeline, squinting a little as he shines his light towards us. My surprise quickly turns to fear, cowering into Jimin when his angry gaze falls on me next. “Both of you!” He yells. “Going into the woods like that!”

He marches over towards Jin and pulls him up by his shirt collar so much so that Jin is forced to stand. “I could punch you right now,” he hisses but doesn’t, roughly mandhandling Jin into his arms. “Asshole. Don’t ever do that again.”

It takes another few minutes for the others to arrive, including Mr Chang in the search party. The walk back to the house is a quiet one and I’m so drained of energy that my limbs feel like sandbags, even when carried on Taehyung’s back. My whole body aches like I’ve been hit by a truck and it takes an effort to keep my eyes open for Taehyung’s sake. 

We are met by Mrs Oliviera by the edge of the forest, warm blankets in her hands as she drapes one over me and tosses the other to Jin, her face frozen in a disapproving scowl as she immediately fusses over the thin scratches all over my face, neck, arms and legs. She switches from fussing over me to berating Jin, as well as pointing out all the little wounds on him, too, and warning him to take care of them inside. For a mousy housekeeper who doesn't usually talk all that much, it’s only her voice that I can hear as the world is shut out behind my eyelids. And for some reason, it brings me relief.

~~~

Taehyung feels you going limp and he adjusts your position so that you remain secure on his back. It’s not when Yoongi offers to switch that he realises how much his back hurts that he happily obliges. They, too, had trekked the woods in half-blindness the moment they could. 

Yoongi carries you in his arms up the stairs as carefully as he can, careful to leash in his anger at not being fast enough, at not being there when it happened. Thankfully, Mrs Oliviera is right at his heels, following him into your room as she instructs him to place you in the bathtub instead of the bed. You groggily open your eyes but Yoongi doesn’t linger long to let Ollie do what needs to be done to get you out of your damp clothes and warm you up. Instead, he goes to the room across the hallway because there’s another person that needs to be taken care of: Seokjin.

He knocks softly once before pushing the door open to reveal the room already cramped with five others. He hears water running in the bathroom and takes his place on the edge of the bed, waiting as the others are. No one says a word. No one looks at each other. No one questions nor makes a move when forty minutes pass and the bathroom door is still closed with Namjoon leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door.

Once, Yoongi thought he heard sobbing from inside the bathroom but neither him nor the others even lifted their heads. They let him be, giving the space he needs but remaining close enough in case they need to act fast. Yoongi is not worried about Jin doing anything drastic while he’s alone in there; that’s not why they’re here. They’re here because they couldn’t be before, earlier in the day or even back then. It’s compensation, for which he’s not sure.

Yoongi should’ve known better. He should’ve at least made sure Jin was okay while the others fussed over you that day in the past. You had drowned, yes, but Jin had been the only one there, saddled with guilt for all those decades. And this time, if you hadn’t been there for Jin, he can’t even bring himself to imagine what would’ve happened. 

You had somewhat briefly recounted the details of what happened before they found you but something nags at the back of Yoongi’s head that you’re not telling the full truth. Jin had fallen into the water, you had jumped right in and pulled him out. You managed to pump his heart back, dislodging the water Jin’s lungs. That’s it. 

That’s it? He had asked then but you had nodded tiredly so he didn’t push. He kept quiet even when he had noticed you and Jin exchanging glances. 

Something else happened. Something that had given them their physical forms back before they raced each other into the woods. Something else happened in between them turning to ghosts and unable to move away from Solomon’s Manor to slowly materialising back into existence, from between Jin jumping into the water and them finding the two of you in that forsaken place but today, Yoongi knows, won’t be the day they learn about it. He just has to sleep tonight with that unknowingness sitting on his chest. For tonight, at least. 

The bathroom door opens and Jin steps out. The bright and cheerful man isn’t there and Jin has a gaunt look on his face. He looks up and tries to smile but it’s sour and Yoongi wishes he’d stop. For the first time in a very long time, Yoongi thought Jin’s shoulders looked too small, too fragile. 

“Yah,” Jin calls out in a false happy voice. “Why are you all still here? I’m tired and I want to sleep. Get out.”

They don’t respond. Jin tries again, stumbling forward and trying to shove Jungkook with his foot. “Yah, move. Get out. Please. I’m tired. I want to sleep.” He’s chuckling as he switches to nudge Jimin with his other foot and pushes Hoseok’s shoulder lightly from the bed. “Move, yah!”

Jin sits down in his bed and makes an effort to crawl under the blanket. He tries one more time to shoo Yoongi and Hoseok off the bed but they’re not budging, moving only to let him into the bed before the scoot closer. Jimin approaches him then with the first aid kit, quietly holding Jin in place by the chin as he tends to the scratches on his cheeks and neck while the older man whines and pleads for them to leave, muttering non stop. Yoongi can almost see it; Jin is stretching so thin he’s breaking.

And then he does.

It starts small. A sniffle and a crack in his voice before Jin shrugs off Jimin’s hands and hangs his head in between his knees. The crying is quiet but the shaking and heaving of Jin’s body are a dead giveaway as he wretches. Yoongi reaches out an arm to rub his back, eyes staring at a spot on the carpet. His own eyes are wet.

Jungkook climbs onto the bed to sit close to Jin as Jimin sinks his hand into Jin’s hair, rubbing the back of his head and neck as he presses his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his own eyes. Taehyung comes from the other side and pulls Jin sideways into his chest, holding the eldest close as he rocks from side to side. 

 The questioning, the scolding can all be put aside for now. Jin is here, Jin is alive. He might not be okay but he’s here with them and Yoongi can deal with that. They can deal with that. Jin is in pieces but they can handle that; they can put him back together, piece by piece. He’s here so they can heal and rebuild. Him or themselves, it doesn’t really matter. They can have a do over. Not today but maybe tomorrow. When Jin is feeling better. 

Right now, they hold each other close and they stay together because that’s what Jin needs. What they need. This feeling in Yoongi’s heart is one he’s not familiar with yet nostalgic. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time but it’s coming back to him now. It’s when you’ve unclogged a sink or untangled a cord. It’s when you remember that word that was on the tip of your tongue or when you’ve done that one chore you hate. It’s the feeling of harbouring a longtime crush and finally being able to spill your guts. 

It’s overcoming a hurdle and now knowing the worst has passed.

It’s saying I love you after waiting for so long.

It’s the end of an awful storm and the clearing of the skies, Yoongi thinks as he lays his head down on the extra pillow, his hand still on the small of Jin’s back who is now almost quiet in Taehyung’s arms. They never drew the curtain closed for the night as seven bodies piled into the queen-sized bed. How they fit, Yoongi doesn’t know but he does know that it’s going to be okay.

Tomorrow, all will be just fine.

~~~

“This is getting interesting.”

The other white clad figure hums in agreement. “It’s nothing we’ve seen before.”

“You reckon this will be it?”

He takes a short while contemplating his colleague’s question before finally answering, “Who knows.”

a/n: this series has been going on for so long (timewise) that it started before BTS enlistment and now they're coming back and it's still nowhere near finished lol

Next: coming...someday

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“Come on. Don’t be a wuss. Get on.”

I hesitated but Nick didn’t bother to wait, as usual, pulling me onto his back and grabbing onto my thighs to pull me up securely. “Deep breaths, baby,” he ordered and without another warning, he dove into the water.  

The cool water hit my face and I tensed up, hearing the distant alarm bells ringing in my head. My eyes stung and I closed them, albeit too late. Nick swam fast, his legs kicking behind him as he dragged me through the dark water of the lake. My chest burnt and I struggled to hold my breath. I signalled to Nick to go up, tapping on his shoulder urgently but when he didn’t get the message, I started shaking him more forcefully. 

But Nick continued on, swimming forward and almost as if he was going even faster. I could feel the panic setting in at the thought of how far from the shallow end we must have gone, but more importantly of how dark it seemed to be. It was ridiculous but it felt like I was being pulled down to the depths of it, a sudden feeling of being trapped overwhelming me. At that point, all I wanted was to get off of him, the alarm bells now screaming in my head telling me that being attached to his back was much more dangerous than the water. I didn’t feel safe with him. 

I must have tightened my grip against Nick’s neck because now he was the one struggling, pushing against my arms. But in that moment, it felt like he wanted me to let go so I’d sink to the bottom of the lake, gone forever, a way for him to get rid of me quick and easy and with less of a mess. I held on tighter, feeling his Adam’s apple somewhat digging into my arm now and this time Nick was literally fighting me off, prying my arms with one hand while trying to stay afloat. 

My survival instinct kicked in and I was latched on to him like some kind of parasite, unknowingly choking him to death while at the same time believing that he was the one trying to kill me. Bubbles escaped both our lips and I heard him shout something under the water. It took him awhile before he resurfaced, both of us spluttering and gasping for air.

“Let go of me!”

His strength outmatched mine and he finally managed to pry me off. It was when my butt hit the rocky ground that I noticed we were already by the shore with families and groups of friends and couples staring at me looking like an almost drowned rat being berated, which is not far from the truth, I thought.

“Crazy bitch!” Nick spat before he stormed off towards the car, cursing under his breath. 

~~~

Jin is the type of person that would do his best to keep all the bad memories away. He likes to focus on the good so it makes everything else more bearable, so when you asked him that question, his mind just went completely blank. 

“Jin?” you urge, shaking him a little, your nails digging into his skin. 

He blinks, his gear kicking in. “Let’s get out of here first,” he says, gently guiding you out of the space inside the wall. His mouth feels dry and his tongue is now a block of sandpaper. He keeps his hands on you as you both walk downstairs, being hyper aware of the silken smooth material of your top, knowing that he’s only holding on to you to keep himself grounded. 

They run into Hoseok when they reach the second floor and one look at Jin is enough to alert the other man. That look, as well as your puffy red eyes. 

“What happened?” he approaches you and boldly tips your chin up to get a proper look at your face. “Are you okay?”

At the sheepish grin you give him, he turns to Jin. “Hyung?”

“I-” you start to say before clearing your throat and trying again. “I got stuck in the wall.”

“What?!”

“I’m fine!” you rush to add. “Jin found me. I’m okay.” You look at Jin and give his hand a squeeze. “We’re okay.”

Jin seems to suddenly realise where he is but his reaction surprises both himself and you. He lets go of your hand more abruptly than he intended, mumbles something neither you nor Hoseok could make out and then excuses himself. He walks away, down the stairs and then disappears from your sight even before you even think of what to say to stop him. You look back helplessly at Hoseok who shrugs his shoulders. 

“He’ll be okay,” he reassures, although the scowl on his face remains. He doesn’t look convinced himself. “He just…needs time.” Hoseok gently pulls you towards your bedroom. “Do you want to tell me what happened though?”

The memory resurfaces and you purse your lips. “I think I saw a memory.”

“Of?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I think I drowned? A long time ago?”

You don’t have to look at Hoseok’s face to register first the subtle startle of his body going rigid and then the way his whole demeanour seemed to be clouded over, like a shadow had fallen over him and you. It was enough of an answer. Hoseok silently leads you back to your room, his soul feeling too heavy for his vessel as he recalled that awful memory. Has Jin confirmed it with you? Was he not able to? 

“Is Jin okay?” he hears you mutter.

Hoseok only gives your shoulder a quick squeeze, not saying the words out loud: I don’t know.

***

No, Jin is not okay. 

Namjoon catches a glimpse of him heading for one of the rooms where the liquor cabinet is. He doesn’t think much of it but a hunch made him get up from his seat and follow the older man. If only he knew what had transpired upstairs, maybe he would have quickened his steps because just as he enters the room, Jin is already holding a bottle of dark whiskey, the kind that people go for to numb pain you can’t physically see, the kind that painkillers don't work on. 

Only slightly curious, Namjoon quietly sits in one of the armchairs, opening up his book and pretending to read. Jin carries the crystal bottle towards the sliding door that leads to the back of the house and after a five-second pause, opens the door and goes outside. He doesn’t even acknowledge Namjoon in the room with him and that should’ve been the biggest warning flag. He should’ve easily noticed that Namjoon’s book is upside down.

See, the thing about living for centuries together, you develop a bond unlike any other that when something bad happens to one or the other, you’d feel it deep in your bones. Dread that starts from your bone marrow and seeps into your bloodstream, slowly poisoning you until even your own saliva tastes bitter as you swallow. That’s what Namjoon is experiencing now as he watches Jin’s back among the tall reeds as he goes further and further away towards the tree line. He might be able to feel the darkness but it’s nothing that he can confirm to be of any consequence. That’s what Hoseok is feeling, too, as he shuts your door quietly behind him. 

The foreboding impression that one of them is about to go into the deep end creeps down all six backs. It’s a familiar feeling, of course, one they learned to recognize easily now after much hard-learned lessons. Hoseok is in the middle of the staircase when Namjoon comes up to him, telling him what he already suspected. The question is, would he be able to reach the long forgotten waterfall?

Jimin and Jungkook argued that the pathway had been sealed, that it will be more than overgrown now. The waterfall itself would have disappeared, too, dried up as the environment changes. But Hoseok doesn’t want to hear logic or arguments; he wants to find Jin and bring him back. 

“He won’t come back,” Yoongi had said matter-of-factly. “You know he won’t. Not until he’s faced with it.” He’s ignoring the fact that Jin might not be sober, having faith that the eldest had always been the reasonable one. Jin won’t do anything stupid. Right?

“There’s no reason to go back there,” replied Namjoon, somewhat annoyed. He’s been pacing the floor, tugging at his hair from the roots. “We could’ve talked things out. What is he thinking?!”

Jungkook stands up, unable to ignore the unsettling feeling in his stomach. “I’m going after him. Before he hurts himself.”

The others agree and start preparing themselves. The sun is still high in the sky and there will still be a few more hours left before it gets dark but flashlights were among the things they packed. Just in case. As they’re about to leave the house, Jimin suddenly has half a mind to ask for your whereabouts. 

Hoseok answers, “She’s in her room, taking a nap.”

“No, she’s not.” They all look up to see Oliviera standing in the doorway with an annoyed look on her face. “She’s gone to take a walk. Left half an hour ago.” When they all stare back at her blankly, she scoffs, “It would be good if you start being more aware of your surroundings.” 

They watch her walk away, mumbling under her breath. The six men exchange looks, mouth slacking open and the blood draining from their faces as they realise too late where you are going. 

~~~

Death in itself is natural. A necessary thing to keep the cycle of life going.

It’s one thing to live multiple lives throughout the centuries because those lives don’t really blend together. They’re separate; separate people, separate stories, separate…me. But dying and being brought back to life is like having one foot through the door and it makes you somewhat wonder if all of you ever made it back to this side, or if a piece of you is lost forever. Gone through the abyss. The chasm. The other side, or whatever they call it. 

I trudge through the grass, heading to where I last saw Jin. I heard the others talk about how to handle him, how to talk to him, but none of them mentioned going after him. Maybe they understood to give Jin the space he needed but to me, needing space doesn’t quite equal to walking into the forest alone, empty-handed except for a bottle of Macallan. Somehow I knew deep in my heart that it’s got everything to do with me and if I didn’t bring him back to the house then we’re all doomed. It’s a funny notion but it felt like the truth. 

As I walk down the barely visible path, I keep thinking about having died by drowning. Neither Jin or Hoseok ever verbally confirmed if that happened but the look on their faces had been clear enough. Weirdly, it didn’t scare me but it does somehow, in a twisted way, explain my fear of water. It makes sense. A lot of people believe in incarnation and for traumas and scars of those lived lives to resurface in the current one is plausible. It aligns. Does it explain my fear of dark places, too? Or was that from a different life? I wouldn’t know until I know the circumstances of what had actually happened and the only one who can tell me that is the person I’m blindly following into the woods.

There used to be a waterfall somewhere in here, that much I heard from the boys’ conversation. If my hunch is correct (it feels more than a hunch, like a buzzing in my soul), then it’s exactly the place where it happened. But the deeper into the woods I go, the more the little path starts to fade out and then disappear altogether. I walk on a little more, stubborn from admitting that I am what I am: lost. Hopelessly lost in the woods. 

I heave a sigh, rotating in a small circle, looking around the tall trees. I consider my options: one, go back to the house and face the consequence of my stupid actions in the form of six angry men that I had walked out without a word or two, keep going and get even more lost and perhaps just die out there in the woods alone, eaten by a wolf or a bear. Fuck, I didn’t even consider the wild animals that could be living here. The dread sinks in and suddenly my surroundings feel ten times scarier. 

Hoseok is going to be so pissed. Jimin, too. The others would be disappointed that I worry them but those two won’t shy away from telling it how it is. 

Wait a minute. Neither of them have ever been angry with me. Was that a previous memory thing again? I let out a frustrating groan, holding my head in between both hands. At times like this, it just feels like I’m living in someone else’s skin, pretending to be someone I’m not. Everything feels not enough and too much at the same time, like trying to recall something that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue but never being able to remember, feeling like I should remember because they are my thoughts, my memories. My life. And yet, they’re not. Not quite.

Something soft brushes against my leg and I jump up, yelping. 

“Mreoww.”

“Karma!” I look at the cat in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

The cat’s twin tails swish vigorously, his eyes piercing mine. He walks ahead a few steps, tails sticking up straight in the air. He looks back once, eyes glinting with such knowledge it’s almost like I can hear him. Come. Follow me.

I watch Karma take a few more steps forward, stop and look back again. This time I got the message. 

“Take me to Jin,” I say, following behind him, knowing that he’s already doing exactly just that.

~~~

Seokjin is walking blindly, the bottle of whiskey he carried with him earlier gone a long time ago, flung to the foot of some random tree but not before he finished the last drop. 

He is very much drunk, swaying on his feet as the world tilts from side to side with every step. He feels hot and a little sick but it’s impressive how focused he is on reaching the destination he has set in his mind. Honestly, he didn’t mean to get this inebriated, that wasn’t his intention. He had only needed the dark fiery liquor as a means to not chicken out. It helped him give him the strength and courage he needed, albeit temporary. Now, he’s starting to regret going a little bit too far. 

The others will be angry, he has no doubt about it. Imagine that; the most level-headed of them is now tumbling through the woods looking for a place he hasn’t been to for decades, half out of his mind, literally, just to…what? What exactly is the reason for him searching for that damned waterfall? 

“Take me there, Jinnie,” you had pouted, stamping your feet a little like a kid. “I want to go for a swim, Jinnie. It’s perfect weather. Please, Jinnie.”

You had begged and whined and literally clung to him the whole week with that pretty pout on your face that Jin had more than once bent over to leave a peck or two, cheekily riling you on with a simple, “No, thank you” to your request before walking away. He blamed only himself for even speaking about the place a few weeks back when they had all talked about where to go now that summer was there. 

It was during dinner and among the suggestions of going to the beach or the lake in the next town over, Jin had casually said, “Why not the waterfall in our own backyard?” 

Obviously it was met with a lot of pushbacks. Namjoon and Yoongi are both convinced that it was too deep in the woods while Taehyung complained about mosquitoes. Jungkook mulled over the idea for a bit but Jimin reminded that it would be a hassle to lug all the picnic stuff through dense trees for miles. So it was agreed upon by the majority that it was not the best idea and it was dropped. Or so he thought. 

You, on the other hand, had broached the idea again that night before bed as you laced your fingers through his. It took everything in Jin to keep a serious face, reiterating what Jimin had said about it being too difficult to carry things there. He tried to discourage you with mosquito bites and it being humid and hours of trekking until you finally relented. For the night, that was.

But Jin isn’t much of a strong soldier when you are the opponent; then, now or ever. He finally gave in a week later (a record time, actually) with a compromise that it would be a date, just for the two of you to minimise items to carry. A hike, just you and Jin. You had tried to get Yoongi to come along too but he had been too busy with the roof repair. It had been raining a lot the past couple of weeks but the huge thunderstorm yesterday was the final straw that threatened to cave the roof in and he couldn’t procrastinate any longer now that there was a leak in the master bedroom, lest he wanted a swimming pool in the ceiling.

So Jin had spent hours in the early morning meticulously preparing the food. He had woken up at five in the morning, hardly sleepy but a little excited, against his better judgement. He wasn’t a hiking kind of person, that was Namjoon and occasionally Hoseok if the place was right. Jungkook had come down a little after six, woken by the smell of food only to stare into space in the middle of the kitchen before Jin ushered him back to bed with the promise that there would be extra left for when he was actually fully awake.

You came bounding into the kitchen a little earlier than he expected and you both packed everything together into a little rucksack, an attempt to keep your loads light. You rationalised that you didn’t need to pack a change of clothes because you could both just come back when you’re done. The trek back home would dry you off plenty so no need for towels either. Only one rucksack of food and a flask of juice and a picnic mat. Some cutleries and napkins. That was all. 

Jin could even still hear the promise you made to Yoongi as you left out the door, that you’ll both be back after lunchtime, that you’d help him with the roof after (Yoongi countering that no, that was not needed because he didn’t want you up on the roof with him, that Taehyung would be home to help instead so no worries, you can just enjoy yourselves). It was when he watched you wave goodbye to Yoongi that the heavy feeling crept in. But he didn’t know. He couldn’t have.

I took you here, he thinks now. It’s my fault. That stain on your soul, I put it there.

But going back to the place where it happened isn’t going to change anything but in the absence of sobriety, the logic eludes him. He’s not even sure why he’s heading there but he guesses that he just needs to see it. He hasn’t been there since it happened; neither of them had. They had tried to cover the pathway, blocking it from ever being accessed, but now, somehow, Jin’s feet are taking him there, oblivious to the tiny scratches along his calves and his arms, the stray branches nicking his neck and cheeks as he pushes through the growth. 

~~~

Being a cat means that Karma is gracefully moving through the undergrowth, leaving me stumbling behind him, desperate to keep up and not getting poked in the eye with a branch or whatnot.

The grasses are getting taller and I’m getting more and more anxious of coming across a snake or worse, stepping on one. But Karma doesn’t even seem wary; odd for a cat but then again he was an outdoor adventurer before I brought him in. Is this wood familiar to him?

The stupidity of the reality of following a cat crosses my mind more than a few times because how do I even know where he’s taking me? Why am I so sure that he’s leading me to Jin? Jin could’ve turned back around and I wouldn’t even know it, leaving me alone with the dumb idea to think that a cat is taking me where I want to go. But an innate feeling tells me I should trust the cat which keeps looking back at me every few minutes with those blue-yellow orbs of his as if making sure my two clumsy feet, as opposed to his lithe four, are keeping up fine. 

“Do you have to go so fast?” I ask exasperatedly after another branch whips into my face. Karma actually pauses, sits on a log and licks his front paw lazily. He gives me a judgemental look before turning around and bounding off. I roll my eyes. 

My focus is solely on finding Jin, so much so that I completely forgot about the other six back at the house who are currently, unbeknown to me, facing another bigger problem.

~~~

Jin arrives.

Nostalgia is a mind trick because the place isn’t as pretty as the memory in his head, albeit the bitter experience. The waterfall had dried up and the pond beneath it was murky and overgrown with water plants that almost covered the surface of the dark, dirty water. Jin can’t even fathom bringing you here on a picnic date. The place looks more like the heavy feeling in Jin’s chest whenever he thinks about that day he pulled you out of the water than the small piece of heaven he and Namjoon had pridefully boasted the day they found it. 

This place, like all of your past lives, had died.

Standing there, eyes glued to the middle of the dark pond, Jin is sucked into the memory he tries so hard to push to the back burner. He reasoned with himself every time that you were alright after all and everything was fine so he could let go, but the more he tries to forget, the guiltier he feels. It wasn’t just your heart that stopped beating for two minutes; his did, too. And it never beat right again after that, the rhythm wonky and jagged, at times like a bird in too small a cage. 

That part of you that died in the water, is it still there? If he goes into the water, would he be able to retrieve the broken piece of your soul and make you a little bit more whole? Jin sighs heavily. He doesn’t think it would make much of a difference. Putting only a tiny fragment of something that broke in a million different ways won’t change a thing. There are just too many scars, too many traumas contained in that body of yours, with or without your knowing. 

Out of all the things Jin wants, one of them is to heal you; to take away all your pain and suffering. If he could trade your soul with his, if he could bear all of your crosses, he would do it in a heartbeat. He knows damn well, too, that so will the others (he’ll never forget how Jungkook literally dove in front of a bullet for you, in one of those lives but that’s a story for another time). 

With another deep sigh, Jin plops himself down on a horizontal rotting log, eyes never leaving the water surface. The sun is no longer above the treeline and the lighting seems muted. In the silence, he longs for you, wishing he could feel your arms around his shoulders and hear your voice telling him how stupid he’s being right now. His head is starting to pound and the world is swaying from side to side. His alcohol-soaked brain is starting to get the better of him because why is he seeing you climbing up the side of the waterfall again, grinning at him ear to ear. 

He stands up, tilting a bit to one side and he feels like he might be sick. You scale to the top, waving at him happily. “Get down from there,” he tried to say but the words felt too heavy for his tongue to form properly. No. Not again. Please. If there’s a god out there, please not again. 

Jin shuffles forward, tripping over his own feet, calling out to you. The sound of the waterfall is deafening in his ears and he tries his best to shout over the noise. He moves forward, shoes sinking into the water as he desperately wills his body to keep moving, to get to you before you jump. He’s too slow, body too big, too heavy. No. Stop. Don’t. Don’t jump. 

But you do - into the water with a splash only in Jin’s head. Adrenaline surges and for a moment his vision clears a little bit and the world stops trying to upend him off his feet. He wades in the water, screaming your name. Something catches against his legs but with brute force, he wrenches himself free. Later, he’ll feel the burn but for now, all he can do is try and catch you when you fall. He can be ready this time. He can stop it from happening this time. He can save you this time.

With one last wave with a smile that outshines the sun, you jump. And Jin dives under the water after you.

A few feet behind him, standing on the log he had been sitting just minutes ago, you look in horror as Jin disappears into the water. 

Back at the manor…

Oliviera stares open-mouthed at the six ghosts standing in the hallway, their pale faces mirroring hers. 

Hoseok stares at his semi-translucent hands, feeling the icy cold fingers of dread creeping down his neck like someone had just doused him in cold water. Their backpacks had thumped straight to the floor loudly the moment their shoulders were no longer solid and Jimin thinks that fear is such an insignificant word to describe this sinking feeling in his stomach. His hands shake.

“What’s happening?” Jungkook asks, his voice sounding a lot more like the teenager they raised than the adult that he is, eyes wide and looking around.

Hoseok and Namjoon exchange looks but neither of them has an answer. Yoongi slumps to his knees, his legs feeling like jelly. His chest is tight and every breath is like claws dragging down the inside of his ribcage. He knows he’s right before the words even come out of his mouth: “Jin. It’s Jin.”

It takes all but zero point two seconds between when the words sink in and when they dash out the door, opting to go through it like the ghosts that they are and straight down towards the back of the house. But ghosts are bound to the places that they haunt and so Solomon’s Manor pulls them back, stopping them just before the ravine, a hundred feet or so away from the edge of the woods. So close, yet so far away.

Jungkook screams for his hyung, a voice that barely reaches the treeline and Jimin bursts into tears, fisting his shirt above where his heart is supposed to be because the pain there is excruciating. Yoongi stares forlornly into the distance, holding Taehyung by the waist as the other man’s face is buried in Yoongi’s shoulder. Hoseok’s fists lay helplessly by his sides but Namjoon doesn’t stop from trying to break away from the invisible force that keeps them bound to the house; a curse so old they’ve lived a thousand lives. He twists, he turns and he yells to the sky but all in vain. Solomon’s Manor keeps them from reaching Jin.

 A thousand lives and yet nothing as bad as this ever happened. The threat of bad omens has always followed you, never them. Immortal beings have no qualms about the other side that it never crossed their minds that their own lives could ever be in danger. Death has only been associated with you, the cycle jumping your soul from one body to the next. It never occurred that it could happen to them when it has been aeons with no rest; the same souls residing in the same bodies as the century bled into the next. 

“She’ll find him,” comes a voice, although shaky, from behind. Hoseok turns around to see Oliviera had followed them, wringing her hands together at her chest. Her face is pale as her eyes are set towards the wood. “She’ll bring him home.”

She must, Hoseok thinks, a thought that rings cohesive among all of them standing there. 

You have to trust me, too. 

Your words ring in his head. He stiffens his upper lip, but his hands remain fisted.  

Above them, thick clouds roll in, dark as the future seems to be.

a/n: Look at that! Two updates in one year! Productive! Lmao

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~~~

I turn around to look at him, squinting in the semi darkness to read his face. I didn’t have to look too hard; the answer on his face was clear as day. 

He remains silent, looking pale even in the moonlight. I purse my lips and turn away, remembering the promise I made: no questions until Sunday. I nodded to myself before turning back to him. “Forget I said that,” I say, automatically reaching out to touch his knee. “It’s fine, Hoseok.”

I watch his eyes flit over to the knee I’m touching and I quickly remove my hand but Hoseok is faster, covering my hand with his own, warm palm resting fully over my fingers and knuckles, gripping ever so slightly. He scoots closer, eyes downcast, trained on his hand enveloping mine, forehead furrowed. When he looks back up again, there’s a softness in his gaze as he exhales slowly and rests his head back against the headboard. 

“Stay here tonight?” 

I stare at his hand covering mine, contemplating for a moment whether the answer on the tip of my tongue is the right one. Sighing, I look back up to him. “Not tonight, maybe.” I pull away and climb off the bed. “Goodnight, Hoseok.”

I avoid looking at him in fear that the disappointed look on his face might make me change my mind, hurrying out of the room without another backward glance. It’s only until I cross the threshold of my own bedroom when I realised not looking back had been the wrong thing to do because the hand that wrapped around my upper arm came as such a surprise I let out a yelp loud enough for Karma to jump on all fours from his perch on the new cat tree.

“Hoseok!” I gasp, my heart hammering. “You scared me.”

To his credit, he does look guilty but the smile that spreads on his lips tells me that he found my reaction funny. I swat at his chest, pushing him away. “It’s not funny,” I grumble. 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I thought you knew I was right behind you.”

I glare at him, pouting. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok replies, slightly offended. “I just-” 

He pauses and I arch an eyebrow, waiting. 

He licks his lips before trying again, pupils shaking with nervousness as he stares right back at me. “I just…want you close. Tonight.”

~~~

Hoseok can hear the air that you suck in, can somehow even hear the way your heart doubled its pace as the both of you stand there in the middle of the room, staring at each other in a sort of stalemate of who breaks the silence first. 

To be honest, now that he’s said it, he thinks he might throw up if you reject him for the second time that night. His heart is literally in his throat right now and he thinks if he shifts his weight wrong, the whole world might just come crashing down. The ball is in your court now so it’s only right to wait until you make the first move, come what may. Like a child who just wants to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut, Hoseok grits his teeth at the strong urge to run out of here. 

Words of “No, I told you not tonight” and “seriously, Hoseok?” run through his mind and he half wishes he hadn’t said anything or even chased you back to your room. What an idiot. A desperate idiot. A desperate idiot that couldn’t even take the first subtle no as a complete answer. What did he think would happen? He should just go back to his room now before he makes things worse. Just apologise and leave, Hoseok, he thinks. Just-

Soft lips on his immediately banish the self-deprecating thoughts from his mind. His eyes go wide for a second as his brain catches up with what’s happening before he finally melts into you, catching your lips in between his. His arms silently wind around your waist, pulling you closer ever so slightly, pressing your body up against his so he can feel every soft edge and delicious curves, so he can memorise this body just as he had memorised the other ones, the other you’s - all different yet had felt just as familiar. 

His. Theirs. Whatever you want to call it, this is it. This is what it feels like to be away for a long time and finally coming home. This is the same feeling of being lost in a crowd, frantic, until you see a familiar face once more. It’s the same as when you’ve spent an entire day out doing either fun activities or running errands and being able to finally sink into the comfort of your mattress at the end of the day. It's a relief, it’s content. It’s every little comfort in life that he has come to associate with you. 

You, who had been so close yet so far away. You, who had been sitting right in front of his eyes these past few months yet going to bed missing you. He had been patient, he had followed the rules. Surely he deserves this, no? A little piece of the heaven he’s been promised if he plays the game right.

When Hoseok feels his feet moving, it’s not him that’s taking the lead. You guide him, mouths still connected, tongue still tangled, towards the bed in clumsy footsteps and he finds himself toppling onto his back. Neither of you break the kiss, not even as you straddle him, leaning chest to chest as you card your fingers through his hair, feeling his fingers dig into your side, probably leaving half-moon shapes on your skin.  Neither of you seems to think that breathing is important right now, not when you both can drink in each other, taking it lungful of gulps of whatever that’s flowing through your connected mouths.

In the distant far back of Hoseok’s mind, he thinks there’s a hint of unfairness to this. How would he even explain this to the others? They wouldn’t be jealous per se, but more annoyed that he had, once again, been the first to get a full taste of you. All of them understood it well enough that there’s a ritual to the cycle, a pattern of sorts that forces itself even when they do their damndest to change things. Would that be enough of an excuse once the others find out (because they will find out)? 

You pull away from the kiss, forehead remaining flushed against his. “Where are you off to?” You sound curious albeit a little sad and he cranes his neck to smush his lips back on yours, speaking in between kisses, “Sorry. I hope everyone’s really asleep, is all.”

You giggle, sitting back just slightly out of his reach. “We can always stop,” you tease, biting your already swollen lower lip. 

“Fuck no,” Hoseok growls as he snakes his fingers on the back of your head and pulls you back in. This time, he’s wise enough to flip you both over, the control finally in his hands. A light bulb goes off in his head as an idea strikes him and with one rough swipe, he pulls your shirt up and over your chest. Shoving the bunched hem in between your teeth, he says, “Now try and stay quiet for me, baby.” 

***

Jin picks out a card from Yoongi’s fanned out deck in his hands, smirks, then places a pair of aces into the middle pile. 

He turns to Jungkook for his turn to draw. “Do you reckon they know we can hear them?” Jungkook asks nonchalantly as he turns towards Jimin, unable to find a matching pair. 

The game of Old Maid had been going on for as long as the muffled ruckus started up in your room, right across from where they are, a method to keep them occupied as well as from bursting in there to catch Hoseok red-handed. But Jin thought that would’ve been too crass and since no one would be able to sleep anyway, they decided on a game of cards. 

Jin snorts. “Doubt it.”

Yoongi just shrugs as he pulls out a card from Jimin’s hand. He pauses for a moment, tilting his head. “Is the cat inside?”

They all stop in their tracks, exchanging glances at each other in the silence (somewhat silence - they can hear the creaking of your bed) as they think about the possibility. Jimin shakes his head pitifully. “Poor, poor kitty.”

The game resumes.

Down the hall, as opposed to Taehyung lightly snoring, oblivious to what’s happening close by, Namjoon stands by the opened window, half his body hanging outside, hands pressed against the ledges. He thought that by doing this, he can somewhat distract himself with the nighttime nature but he can hear the quiet moans of your voice and wonders if you had your windows cracked open, too. 

Aaagghh! 

He wants to scream so bad but the sliver of self control he has has him scrunching up his face like he had tasted something sour, gripping to the window ledge so tight the wood creaks threateningly. Namjoon has no idea of the card game going on in Jin’s room. All he thinks is he wishes he was fast asleep instead, like the others because they seemed unbothered. He had expected for one or even two of them to burst into his room, wide-eyed and in between panic and excitement at the knowledge of you and Hoseok making love so painfully obvious.

Namjoon won’t deny the slight twinge of jealousy in his chest but feeling jealous of each other is as pointless as urging a flower to grow faster just because another one has already bloomed - everything is in due time; he just has to be patient. He does wonder if Hoseok’s true nature peeks out with you now, that dominance lurking under that bright, head-thrown-back laughter heard everyday around the house. What would you think of it? Or is Hoseok holding himself back, keeping things soft and vanilla for this first time with you? First time in this lifetime, of course.

As he sighs in defeat, retreating back into his room and closing the window tightly but almost begrudgingly, another thought comes to mind: How does he face you in the morning? Namjoon pauses on his way to the bathroom, blinking as he thinks, mouth downturned. What if he can’t hide the fact that he heard you? Fuck!

He stomps his way to the bathroom to splash cold water into his face, determined to forget everything and go to sleep. But sleep isn’t a good friend tonight as he lays there in bed, an obvious tent in his pyjama bottoms now, chewing on the insides of his cheeks. The harder he tries to push filthy thoughts out of his head, the more his mind wanders down to times when he had had you by his side almost every night, squished up against him, someone else’s arms around your middle, a human sandwich of sorts.

The first time Namjoon had laid with you, he had mistakenly thought you as shy, needing him to take the lead, nudging you in the right direction. He’d tease you with little orders like, “Take of your top for me, my love” and “That’s my girl” or “You’re as radiant as the stars in the sky, my darling, so let me see you more”, words that you blushed at, hiding your happy smiles behind your hair as you kept your head down low, doing everything he told you like a good puppy. 

But Namjoon had been too naive. The moment you flipped him over, one palm pushing against his chest for balance as you pushed up on the balls of your feet moving perfectly over his shaft, mounting him like a cat in heat, head thrown back, mouth agape, breathing in shallow breaths as he watched your breasts bounce almost mesmerised. Namjoon had been speechless, his usually intelligent mind rendered blank and dumb. Ah, he had thought to himself, I must have died and reached heaven. 

The more Namjoon entertained those memories swirling in his head, the more uncomfortable his lower half gets. He goes back into bed, pulling the covers over himself as his left hand sneaks into his pants. He closes his eyes, conjuring the memories of you in bed forward, almost smelling your skin on his clean sheet. His morals can go to hell for tonight.

~~~

Hoseok’s breathing is even, soft slow breaths that keep my eyes on the way his chest moves up and down. 

But he’s not sleeping, I can tell. He slowly turns his head over to me, eyelids fluttering open to look at me. Rustling alerts me to his hand moving over to touch mine under the blanket, intertwining our fingers together in between us, bringing them up to his mouth. He places a kiss on each one of my knuckles before resting our connected hands on his bare chest.

“Hi,” I whisper lamely.

“Hi,” he whispers back with an amused smile. 

 I turn slightly sideways, lips connecting with his shoulder, mouthing at it a little, making him smile wider. The sun is only just rising, the soft glow of the slowly waking world outside holds off behind a curtain closed shut. Soon, the birds will start their activity, Mrs Oliviera will be thumping around on the first floor to start the day and it will be time to wake up and break this sacred, quiet moment between Hoseok and I. 

“I should go back to-”

“Stay.”

Hoseok regards me for a moment. “But the others will be awake soon.”

“And?”

“They’ll ask questions,” he answers, turning onto his side and leaning on one elbow, looking down on me. 

I hum, feeling his finger caressing my side. “You don’t have to answer.”

“They’ll know,” he says.

“Then they don’t have to ask.”

Hoseok chuckles softly. He leans down and connects our lips, fingers digging into my flesh. He deepens the kiss, pushing me over on my back as he looms over me, his weight creaking the bed. He moves to my cheek, nosing down to my neck, lightly brushing his lips on the sensitive skin there. He starts to move downward, pecking kisses down to my chest. I can feel his tongue poking out, feel it-

“Mreooowww!”

We both jump apart, him more than me that he almost falls off the edge of the bed. 

“Karma!” I exclaimed, staring in disbelief at the cat that had just jumped onto the bed. He gives me a disapproving look as he curls up in what was just minutes ago Hoseok’s spot, laying his head on the pillow as if reclaiming it. 

I turn back to Hoseok and give him an apologetic shrug. He laughs lightly, slipping off the bed and kneeling by the side of it. “I think that’s my cue, love,” he says. He leans over and kisses my forehead. “Sleep some more.”

I watch him get dressed and leave the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. I lay back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling. I turn to Karma, purring contentedly. He opens his eyes in slits to look at me before closing them again, almost smugly. 

“You’re such a brat, you know that?”

He ignores me, as expected.

I roll my eyes and turn the other way.

***

“Karma!” 

The quiet yelling doesn’t bother the cat as I watch him bound up the stairs towards the third floor. I let out a groan and climb over the makeshift barrier, tiptoeing up the stairs as quickly as I can to go after him before the housekeeper sends us both to think about our actions in a corner. The stupid cat is fast and I try to be as quiet as possible, trailing after him.

“Get back here,” I hiss, bending low with my arms outstretched as I approach him close enough for the tip of his twin tails to brush my fingers. He had stopped to sniff at a closed door but then changed his mind, darting away and escaping me. He hurries down the hallway and I slow my pace, eyes trailing upwards to that same old door in the ceiling. I don’t come up here often and for some reason, the sight of it triggers a nostalgic feeling of sorts. 

I stop right underneath it, neck starting to ache a little from how long I’ve been staring at the Anam Cara etched on the wooden surface. That specific celtic knot represents eternal love but what most people tend to ignore is the fact that Anam Cara literally translates to ‘soul friend’. I wonder why my grandaunt was so fascinated by Gaelic culture. Do we have some Irish bloodline in us? Or Vikings, maybe?

The sound of scratching pulls my attention down towards Karma again who is now long and extended halfway across one wall, paws stretched to reveal the razor claws beneath sunk into the wallpaper.

“Nononononono,” I mutter, leaping forward to remove him from making more damage but Karma is a cat. He lithely jumps out of the way but it’s too late for me to pull the brakes, ramming my shoulder straight into the wall he was leaning against, but instead of bouncing off of it, I sink into it.

~~~

The thud isn’t what made Jin finally curious enough to go up the third floor; it’s the strange cat that casually slinks between his legs heading downstairs, but not before giving him a look that confirms it wasn’t him making the noise. 

Jin isn’t the bravest man out there. The only good thing about having a pet, he thinks, is that he can blame it for any weird creaky, spooky noise he can’t explain that happens throughout this old house. But it’s the afternoon and the house doesn't look so haunted with the sun shining through every window so he decided to be adventurous. His plan was to peek around the corner and then run like hell downstairs again. 

He cranes his neck as far out as he can, one foot on the edge of the stairs, ready to bolt. His eyes scan the hallway hurriedly and when he doesn’t see anything, his heart starts thudding faster. Jin hears a pop in his neck from whipping his head around too fast but then he hears your voice. 

“Ow…”

He pauses, heart finally calming down. “Y/n?”

No reply. Did he imagine it? He takes a tentative step forward and then another, eyes rapidly scanning the area. But it’s a long hallway that stops at a window. Are you in one of the rooms? Did you fall? Did something fall onto you? Oh god, no.

Jin bursts through each door one by one without bothering to close the one before, his senses heightened to the point there’s a ringing in his ears. Each door he goes through he’s met with ceiling-high stacked old items he doesn’t focus on for too long, items he had long put behind him; some made him think more about you which sends him into more of a panic. By the fourth door, Jin is half-convinced he imagined your voice and had half a mind to just go back downstairs to find you. 

He exits the door and for some reason, he looks up towards the trapdoor that he had been living above off just a few months ago. He’s too far to see it but his eyes zone in on the Anam Cara. He remembers the night that he had taken a knife to the wood, giggling with you as he carved the shape, carefully not to nick himself with the blade as his vision sort of blurred together from how much wine he had drunk. 

“Yoongi is going to be so- hic- mad,” you had slurred. “He was going to- hic- use this panel for a cupboard- hic.” 

“I’m making it prettier,” he replied with a grin. “He’ll love it.”

No, he didn’t. Yoongi had been annoyed but not angry enough to do anything more than just roll his eyes when he had caught the two of you in his workshed. He did, however, throw the tangerine he was holding at Jin’s head before confiscating the knife from Jin and shepherding you both to bed, mumbling about soulmate symbols and how the Anam Cara wasn’t actually one (Jin had justified that it was his expression of eternal love for you which earned him that free lecture from Yoongi). And that’s the origin story of the trapdoor in the ceiling.

“Help!”

Jin snaps out of his reverie. He follows the muffled sound of the voice and finds himself face to face with the revolving secret wall. If he hadn’t been ten feet away from it, he definitely would not have heard it. A sense of deja vu washes over him, only this time he’s not a floating ghost. 

~~~

“Help!”

I called out a second time but judging from how compact my voice sounds in this space, I knew no one would be able to hear me. My chest starts to wind up tight, my throat constricting as panic rises up to a crescendo. I can feel pressure in my ears but my mouth is clamped shut, unable to make any more noise. It’s so, so dark. 

I’ve been here before, I remember. A while back when I had first found this place. How could I have forgotten that? That’s the funny thing about your brain; it tends to push down all the bad stuff so you can function somewhat properly. A monster in the dark. There’s a monster in the dark. A ghost. With eyes so familiar it hurts. 

These thoughts go around and around in my head, bouncing off the walls of my mind as I try my hardest to not start hyperventilating. My breaths are coming out in short bursts and my hands are fisted, pressed together against my stomach. When your whole existence is crushing inward against you, your senses become sharper than usual, albeit narrowed to your own self. That’s how I’m hyper aware of how cold my own fingers are and how loud the thud, thud, thud is of my heart against my ribcage. 

~~~

Jin picks random spots on the wall to pound against with the side of his fists, alternating between the right and left side as he’s confident the axis is somewhere in the centre. Thud, thud, thud! And yet the wall resists.

You no longer make any sound from within and although Jin knows that you could have made your way downstairs, his panic button is still turned on. He remembers your panic-stricken face the first time you stumbled across the hidden space, the way you had gone completely out of his reach even when he had been screaming in your face to try to snap you out of it. That triggered the other memory, of him dragging your limp body out of the water. Jin shivers, both to shake the bad memory away as well as in anger because. The wall. Just. Won’t-

The wall finally swings open and Jin’s eyes are quick to lock in on you the same time yours find him. He doesn’t waste another moment.

~~~

Jin. Jin’s eyes.

A ghost with eyes so familiar it hurts. 

Jin. Seokjin. My Seokjin. 

He’s crushing me so hard the wind is knocked out of me. Ironically, I can breathe again, taking in huge gulps of air like a diver resurfacing. 

Murky waters. 

Jin is talking to me but I can’t quite hear him. He’s holding my face in between both hands, forcing me to look up at him, into those eyes. Those eyes that look so worried, like I had died. My chest feels tight and my throat is suddenly ticklish, like I got something stuck there. I cough and it stings, like when you accidentally swallowed water into the wrong pipe. 

Murky water. Mud.

~~~

“Are you okay?!”

You’re looking at Jin but not really seeing him, he can tell. Your eyes look far away, almost lifeless and it scares him so much his hands are shaking as he holds your face. He wants to call out to the others but something keeps him focused on you, unable to pull away even for a second lest he might lose you. It doesn’t make sense but the fear in his heart is real. 

“Talk to me, please.”

You take a deep breath but Jin’s not convinced that you’re fully there yet. You start coughing and his panic goes back up to ten. Did you choke on something? He tries to keep your body straight so he can look, make sure you’re okay but you’re doubling over, grasping at your chest, coughing like you’re suffocating. 

“-water.”

Jin bends down. “Okay, let’s get you some water. We need to get out-”

“You pulled me out of the water.”

The coughing stops as abruptly as it started. You look up at him, chest still heaving. Jin is at a loss for words, staring at you as he tries to make sense of the sentence. I did, he thinks, once upon a time ago. 

Flashbacks to that dreadful day play like an old film reel in Jin’s mind, each scene starker than the next. Standing there in the secret space built so many years ago, he’s convinced that water is dripping down his forehead; water from that pond miles behind the property. He can even smell it on him. He doesn’t notice it yet but his heart is in his throat, ready to be vomited out once he opens his mouth to respond to you.  “Jin,” you say, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him close, “did I die?”

a/n: at this rate, it looks like I'm posting once a year to this fic and they're shorter than I like too T_T i'm doing my best! I'll try harder, I promise! T_T

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So Jin resorts to not saying anything to anybody. He’ll keep both his suspicions and hope to himself if it minimises the damage, but for now, he’ll sit back and enjoy the view. He’s curious about what had happened last night for the two to end up here but he’s more focused on the way your eyelids flutter as you dream. He scoots the chair silently closer to the bed. Watching you sleep could be a hobby of his by how much fascination he has right now, wondering about if you’re dreaming of good things.

Yoongi stirs and his eyes slowly blink open. He takes a moment to place himself, looking around the room but more at you in between him and Hoseok. Jin watches as Yoongi places a soft whisper of a kiss on your forehead before proceeding to untangle himself, stopping short when he finally turns around and sees Jin sitting there staring at him.

Jin stretches his philtrum, pressing his lips together, trying to stifle the laugh bubbling out of him. He presses the crook of his elbow to his mouth, leaning sideways as his shoulders shake. Yoongi tries to maintain the annoyed look but the shy smile creeping up on his lips is harder to conceal. He gets up off the bed, lightly pushes at Jin’s chair so he swivels around the opposite direction and leaves the room.

Recovered from his silent cackling, Jin finally stands up and leaves, too, before you or Hoseok wakes up, heading to join Jimin and Taehyung as he hears them go down for breakfast. He’ll let the others know to leave something at breakfast for the two. 

Before he walked out the door, Jin made sure to pull the curtains tighter, eliminating the slit of sunshine that was previously on your back. 

~~~

It’s warm. Warm and soft. 

I open my eyes and the first thing I see is another pair of eyes staring straight back at me. Instantly, I could recognise them as Hoseok, warm and so full of…

I sit up, pushing up on my hand and looking around groggily. The first thing that pops out of my mouth is, “Where’s Yoongi?” 

~~~

Hoseok can’t help the smile slowly forming on his lips at the confused look on your face, eyes wide, mouth upturned in a slight pout, hair messy from sleep.

“Downstairs, probably,” he replies softly, smoothing your hair with one hand. “Do you want me to call for him?”

You shake your head but still look at him in an odd way. Hoseok waits patiently for you to say what’s on your mind, unaware that he’s still holding on to your hands, tracing back and forth with his thumb over yours. When a minute passes by and you still haven’t said anything, Hoseok decides to speak first.

~~~

“You had a panic attack last night.”

I look at Hoseok, processing his words, trying to remember back to last night. At first, nothing comes to mind, the memories murky and black, indistinguishable. All I can recall is sitting on the side of the bed, gasping for air until a shadow fell over me and held me close. 

Yoongi’s eyes.

Yoongi’s voice.

You can have us both.

~~~

Hoseok watches you jump as if something had suddenly stung you. You’re blinking rapidly, clearly panicking over something he can’t quite see nor understand. 

He grabs ahold of your hand more firmly, squeezing it gently to get your attention. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he soothes, sitting up as well to better get on your eye-level. “Shh, you’re okay.”

He catches your cheeks in both palms, making you look at him and to his surprise, you lean into his touch, eyes closed. Your breathing evens out and you visibly relaxed, shoulders sagging. Without opening your eyes, you whisper out something so breathy Hoseok didn’t catch it the first time. He leans in and asks you to repeat yourself. This time, you blink your eyes open and repeat, “Is it true?”

Hoseok tilts his head, uncomprehending. 

Hoseok watches you take a deep breath and for a split second he thinks he knows what you wanted to say before the words even left your lips.

~~~

 “I can have you both.”

The sentence comes out as more of a statement than a question and we both sit there in complete silence; me regretting the words immediately and him, staring at me like I’d just grown a second head. I can’t backtrack now and even if I could, what do I even say? I sounded crazy because what does that even mean, if I can have them both? 

Hoseok is giving me a stern look now. He readjust his position and move his hands from my face and my stomach drops. But he takes my hands instead and instantly, the butterflies start up again. 

Hoseok squares his shoulders and takes a breath. He exhales. “I’m going to ask you some questions. I’m going to be direct about them and you can be honest with me. If you think they are absurd, you can tell me. I just want you to be honest. Okay?”

I lick my lips and nod. 

Hoseok nods, too. “Okay. My first question is,” he pauses, visibly hesitating before plunging in, “how do you feel right now, in this moment?”

I take my time to think about it before answering, as honestly as I can, “Safe. I feel…” I look down at my hands in his, “safe.”

Hoseok squeezes my hands, whether it was voluntary or not, I’m not sure. “Safe, okay.” He sounds almost disappointed when he asks, “Only safe?”

I purse my lips, holding back on the actual word, worried that if I do say it, Hoseok will never look at me the same way he’s looking now. But the word bubbled up from the depth of my heart and spilled out in a squeak before I could stop myself anymore: “Loved.”

I was right; Hoseok does change the way he looked at me, but in the complete opposite of what I had thought. His eyes glistened, he smiled from ear to ear, his lips quiver ever so slightly. He chuckles wetly, shoving his face into his arm to wipe at his eyes. “Okay, next question.”

~~~

“How do you feel when you’re with us?”

Hoseok remains vigilant of your body language, keeping an eye on your eyes, on your face, and the way your fingers are wrapped around his. He pays attention to any subtle changes because the second question may feel a little too soon. Maybe he should rephrase it, ask about Yoongi instead but the question is already out and he can’t take it back.

“The same,” you answer quietly. “It’s odd and makes no sense but…I told this to Jin before. That it didn’t make sense to feel so at ease with seven men who are supposed to be strangers. But I do. It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Something catches Hoseok’s attention at the bedroom door and he looks up.

 ~~~

Hoseok looks up over my head at something and I turn around to find Yoongi standing in the doorway. He has a tray of food in his hands.

He must have seen the look on my face because he comes right in, places the tray on the desk and sits on the edge of the bed. There’s genuine worry on his face as he leans over and places the back of his hand against my forehead. 

I let out a giggle.

~~~

Hoseok watches you giggle as Yoongi takes your temperature with the back of his hand. You do look red in the face and with the wetness in your eyes, it’s easy to see it as you coming down with something.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, your voice soft. 

Yoongi glances over at Hoseok, a flitting question exchanging between them in that one look and Yoongi situates himself more firmly on the bed. “Darling, you had a panic attack last night,” he says carefully, “Do you remember what triggered it?”

Hoseok thought that the question was a risky one, something that could make you shut down again when he had already managed to get a half-confession from you. But he held his tongue because the fact that he himself didn’t think to ask first felt like he had put his wants above your needs and there has never been anything more further from the truth. 

Yoongi returns your gaze, eyes never wavering from the intense look you’re giving him which only peaks his curiosity. What had thrown you so off the edge last night for him to find you almost catatonic, barely breathing right? If he knows what it is, maybe he can help alleviate it. He’s done it countless times before, fighting your demons for you because that’s what he’s good at. 

“You,” you simply say.

Yoongi arches his eyebrows. “Me?”

You only nod your head in affirmation. 

Well, now Yoongi has to think about how to fight himself.

~~~

At the pained look on Yoongi’s face, I hurry to add an explanation.

“I had a dream,” I start, hesitant because I don’t know how to explain the dream to make it make sense. “About you. And me.”

“I see. Did something bad happen in the dream?” Yoongi asks.

I bite on my lower lip. “No, nothing bad. But…”

“But what, honey?”

My heart does a little flutter at the pet name. I feel a little more confident now to continue. “But it just didn’t feel like a dream. It felt…real.”

“Real how?”

It’s Hoseok this time and I turn my head around to look at him. “It’s hard to explain. It felt like…like I was there, physically, in the dream. I could feel Yoongi’s hands on me. I could feel…” I hesitate, hearing how crazy the words sound. “I could even feel his breath on me, the emotions I was feeling in the moment. It was almost like a-”

~~~

“Memory,” Yoongi and Hoseok finish for you, simultaneously.

You stare at Hoseok, confused, before starting to chuckle. “How can it be a memory when it hasn’t ever happened yet? Or did I get amnesia or something and we’ve actually known each other longer than I thought? Did I forget you?”

You laugh harder, shaking your head. “That’s a soap opera, guys. It was weird but this is not a telenovela.” But you’re staring off out the window, your forehead creasing. 

Hoseok’s heart, once again, dropped to the bottom of his feet. One step forward, two steps back; and he really thought you were making progress. He guesses he had been too impatient, too greedy. He looks briefly at Yoongi who easily takes charge.

“And that triggered you into a panic attack?” he asks gently. 

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess. That’s all I remember, honestly. Before you came.”

Yoongi nods solemnly as if he understands it all and Hoseok gives up on the rest of the questions he has for you. You’re not ready and he wouldn’t push you.

There’s a moment of silence and Hoseok is sure the conversation is finished. He’s actually getting hungry and maybe you both need food and he’ll revisit the topic another time. 

“You said I can have you both,” you suddenly whisper. “You said I didn’t have to choose between you and Hoseok, that you were madly in love with me and so was Hoseok. That I was madly in love with you, too.” You turn to look back at Hoseok, eyes wide and scared. “Madly in love with the both of you.”

You turn back to Yoongi. “It’s crazy because it felt so real.” You pause, frowning at a spot on the bed sheet. “So real. Like a memory. Who has that kind of dream?”

Yoongi takes a deep breath and scoots closer on the bed. “Have you been feeling a lot like that lately?”

You nod. “That night with Jungkook was the strongest. The night he last told me the story.” You turn to Hoseok. “I asked him to, to distract me. I was feeling so overwhelmed.”

A tinge of guilt flicks at Hoseok’s heart. He had been so angry at Jungkook that night but the lad had broken down at the end of the night, convinced that something was happening with you and happening too fast. Now, he regrets not listening to the youngest because as much as they’re scared of scaring you away, they can’t stop the natural phenomenon of you figuring things out yourself, no matter the pace. The only thing Hoseok hopes to do is soften the blow but he’s starting to realise that softening the blow could mean that they’d have to come clean first. 

“Hoseok,” you call.

~~~

Hoseok lifts his head, the scowl still on his face.

“Hoseok,” I say, “why is it so bad for Jungkook to tell me that story? Why do you always get so angry at him when he does?”

“I don’t get angry at him,” says Hoseok, defensively. At the withering look I give him, he concedes, sighing. “I’m not angry. I don’t get angry at him, I just…It’s just that the story is…Well, the story is just difficult. Complicated.”

I frown. “You think I can’t handle a story?”

Yoongi taps my knee to get my attention. “Do you like that story that much? Jungkook has tons of other stories he can tell you. Just ask him.”

Irritated, I snap back. “I don’t want other stories. Seriously, what’s wrong with that one? Why are you so-” 

Something hit me then, a realisation that halts my speech, dawning on me like a bucket of ice someone dumped over my head. I freeze, my mind focused on that idea and that idea alone. I look back at Hoseok. “The story’s real, isn’t it? It’s not just a story, is it?”

Yoongi and Hoseok exchange looks and that’s as close to an affirmation as I can get. “Whose story is it?” I look from Hoseok to Yoongi then back again. “Tell me.” My voice grows harder, louder.

“Maybe now’s not the time to get into it,” Hoseok starts to say but I shake my head and pull my hands out of his constant hold. 

“No. Tell me, please. Whose story is it?” I repeat, backing away on the mattress. 

Hoseok only looks at me pleadingly. “I will but-”

“No buts!” I lash out. “Please, just tell me what is going on. What are you hiding from me?”

~~~

There it is, the unravelling. You’ve finally seen the thread of lies and are now pulling at it, slowly.

Hoseok tries again. “We’re not hiding anything from you. You’ll find out in time. I-” He’s reaching out to you, wanting to hold your hand again but you’re moving away. He’s desperate now. 

“What is it you don’t want me to know?” you push, struggling to climb down from the bed. “What is it about the story you’re trying to keep from me?”

Hoseok opens his mouth but the words are lost on him. He doesn’t actually know what to say, fumbling to find the best way to calm you down. You’re standing now at the edge of the bed, just a few feet away from him yet it feels like you might as well be on the other side of the planet. You’re too far away. He just wants you back in his arms. Just moments ago he managed to make you acknowledge your true feelings for them, for him, and yet here you are now, distrustful, irritated, and looking at him accusatorily.

“We’re not keeping anything from you.” Yoongi’s voice reaches Hoseok’s ears, much more stable and stronger than his own. “There are things you just need time to learn for yourself. We’re just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

~~~

Yoongi’s jaw ticks but he doesn’t answer me.

“Protect me from what?” I repeat through gritted teeth. 

It’s honestly getting so annoying. The way they’re treating me is as if I’m a child that needs to be shielded from the world. Do they think so little of me? Have they been taking me for a fool all this time, tiptoeing around me like I’m some kind of fragile glass? I can handle the truth. I’ve dealt with worse. I wanted to scream these things to them but a part of me just can’t get that angry at them. 

There’s a voice deep inside telling me to just listen, to just trust but how do I do that now when it’s clear they haven’t been fully transparent either. Trust has to work both ways. 

“Y/n.”

I whip my head around towards the bedroom door and see Jungkook standing there, a dark look on his face. I’ve never seen him so serious before and the look in his eyes demands that I listen. He’s younger than me, has always felt more like a younger brother to me, too, but right now, he commands such a strong aura I forget all about the tiny details. When did he become so big and tall?

“I will finish the story by the end of this week. Sunday night, when the moon is full.”  The playful Jungkook isn’t there right now. He has a very deep, solemn voice, eyes never leaving mine. I can see the broiling emotions in them, such intensity it feels like I’m growing smaller in his gaze, towering over me with such authority. “We will answer all the questions that you have after that. Any and all questions, we will explain it all. But,” he pauses, flicking his gaze over to Hoseok and Yoongi.

“But?” I ask hesitantly, my voice coming out dry.

Jungkook looks back at me. “But,” he says, stepping closer, “on one condition.”

I don’t prod, waiting because I know he will say it. 

“You have to spend the days leading up to Sunday with us,” he finishes.

I let out a wry chuckle, rolling my eyes. “I already am. We live together.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “No, not like that.”

He takes another step closer and then another until he’s standing right in front of me, until I have to tilt my head to look up at him. With one finger, he traces the side of my face and along my jaw; my skin tingling with electricity, my heart thumping. “You have to be open to every feeling, every emotion, everything your heart tells you. You have to be open to that little voice in your head. You have to be open to us.”

I swallow tightly. “Meaning?”

Jungkook drops his hand. “You’ll understand it soon enough.”

I search his eyes, looking for any hint that he was just messing with me, that he’s going to step back and laugh and tease about the look on my face. But he doesn’t. And deep down, I already know this. Deep down, I know what he’s telling me, know what he meant exactly but I just can’t bring myself to admit it. It. Just. Doesn’t. Make. Sense.

“It won’t make sense now,” I hear Hoseok say from behind me and I turn around so fast to face him, surprised that he had read my mind. “But it will later. I promise.”

Yoongi gets off the bed, standing there and rubbing the back of his neck. “Just trust us.”

“Trust us,” Jungkook echoes more firmly.

I look from Jungkook to Yoongi and to Hoseok still on the bed. 

Chalk it up to Jungkook sounding convincing, or that I just wanted them out of the room, or that I do actually have a soft spot for them. Chalk it up to me just withering under Jungkook’s gaze, or that I just want the conversation to end, or that I actually do believe them. I’ll tell myself that I just didn’t want to argue, or that I just want to leave the room, or that, in fact, that little voice Jungkook mentioned was actually telling me that trusting them will be the first step, the first jigsaw piece to fall in place and the rest will follow. 

Chalk it up to just, for a brief second, I want for it all to be as easy as Jungkook said it could be, so I nod my head slowly. “Okay,” I breathe out. “But.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow lifts, waiting. 

“But you have to trust me, too,” I say, my voice coming out softer, lighter than usual. “You have to trust that I can handle whatever it is you think I can’t.”

Jungkook looks up at Hoseok who flits his worried gaze to Yoongi. The three of them nod. 

---

“The real thing is finally beginning.”

The figure in the white robe moves around the basin as if the view of whatever it’s looking at would change with the angle. It doesn’t. The second figure tilts its head.

“Something feels oddly familiar, no?”

A Cheshire grin spreads over the first figure’s face. 

---

The next day, early in the morning, I wake up before everyone else. The house is quiet; no sound, no movement, no smell of breakfast when the sun is barely up.

I get dressed and softly padded downstairs and out of the house through the back door. The sky is alight but the sun still hasn’t fully risen over the trees; the kind of mornings when it’s just silent and misty, morning dews still sticking to the grass and leaves, transferring to my jeans as I walk down to the stream.

I don’t know why I came here. I just needed to get out of the house, out of the four walls that feels more like an enclosure rather than the place I was excited to come live in just a few months ago, back when everything feels like a fresh start. I twist around to look back at the house, noting that all of the windows on the second floor, minus my own, have the curtains drawn shut. Good. That’ll just give me a few moments to myself, to sort out my own thoughts. 

I sit on the rock I usually perch on and pull up my legs to hug my knees. The sound of the water trickling down the stream is calming and every breath of the crisp morning air is refreshing. I take in a deep breath. I’m not a morning person but I absolutely love mornings like this, when everything is still slumbering away, when even the birds haven’t woken up yet. 

I think about the conversation I had with Jungkook, Yoongi and Hoseok yesterday, about the promise Jungkook made and the condition that came with it. It’s a simple request, nothing extraordinary, yet I couldn’t shake the looming dread that seems to sit heavily in the hollow of my chest. It’s like that feeling of going to the beach on a fine day and having this notion that a storm might just roll in out of the blue even when the sky is perfectly clear. It’s unlikely because the weather reports say it’s a fine day, the day itself is perfect, not a cloud in sight and yet, deep down, you just know it’s going to take a turn for the worst. 

Why, I don’t know and that’s the aspect I’ve been trying to deal with. Why is it that after the story is finished, I would feel like the world would just end? It’s just a story, a story that I had, before yesterday, been dying to hear the end of. A story that gave me a sense of calmness and familiarity but there was nothing that connected me to it. Hoseok said the story is complicated but I’ve yet to hear anything that puts it as anything but a typical love story, albeit the polyamorous aspect of it, assuming from the title itself. Not to forget that it’s actually a real story, real encounters. 

And Yoongi mentioned about protecting me. It sounded ominous, like something about the story will hurt me, destroy me. Like the story will reveal a truth that will absolutely flip my world upside down. I scoff at that last thought. My world has been flipped upside down, multiple times over. Whatever he thinks might be destroyed after has already been wrecked. You can’t make worse of a broken mirror. 

I press my forehead against my knees. Jungkook’s condition is simple; to spend the days leading up to the storytime as openly as I can with them. I tell him I don’t know what it means but at the bottom of my heart, I know exactly what he meant. Had he known, too, all this time? Had they all? When they call me by the pet names and I don’t oppose, did they know? When they hold my hand and I never pull away, did they know? In every smile, every laugh, every word exchange between us, had they always known that I was and am-

No, I’m not. I can’t be. I’m just comfortable with them, enjoy their presence. They are sweet and kind, warm and caring. Nothing like the people I left behind. 

A rustling in the grass brings up my head from my knees, turning around but not seeing anybody approaching. It’s not when I look down to see the double tails of Karma languidly swishing from side to side that my heart slows down. 

“Seriously,” I chastise him, “you should really be louder.” I pat the spot next to me and he jumps up. I stroke his head a few times, making sure to scratch him behind the ears, his favourite spots. “How do you always manage to find me?”

Karma looks up at me, eyes imploring something I wish I could understand. The sky is looking more golden now as the sun slowly rises and the birds all around are starting to chirp, softly as if they had just woken up. Karma purrs, attention stolen by a sudden chirp from a nearby tree, eyes focused on something in the leaves. He jumps down and stalks off in the direction.

“Leave the bird alone, Karma!” I called after him but he had disappeared in the grass. I roll my eyes. Petulant child.

My eyes are drawn back to the house, looking up at the row of windows on the second floor. All of them are just as they were earlier, except for one; Namjoon stands in front of his window looking down in my direction. Our eyes meet (or it feels like they did at this distance) and he raises a hand in a wave. He then disappears back into his room and I have a strong feeling I’d see him coming down the yard soon. 

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Namjoon is jogging down towards me, still in what he wore to bed, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his grey sweatpants. His dark hair is tousled and I chuckle to myself at the thought that he didn’t even bother to brush out his hair first. 

“Good morning,” he croaks out in that morning voice, deep and gravelly. 

“Morning,” I greet back. “You’re up early.”

He nods, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He squats down next to the stream and dips his hand into the water. “Fuck, it’s cold,” he hisses and I laugh. He does again, this time cupping water to wash his face.

“You could’ve done that upstairs in the bathroom,” I laugh. 

“Forgot,” he grunts back, finishing and coming back over to me. He doesn’t even wait for me to move before plopping down next to me and sighing heavily. He stares off into the distance. 

“Why are you here?” I ask, genuinely curious since it’s taking him such great effort to wake up. I have this strong urge to run my hand through his hair, gently combing it out. I grip my own arms tighter. 

“‘Cause you’re here.”

I give him an incredulous look but he’s looking at a spot in the stream, eyes unfocused. “That doesn’t matter. You didn’t have to come.”

He shakes his head. “I wanted to.”

“It’s early, Joonie. You can go back to bed.”

He finally looks at me. “Only if you come with me.”

I stare at him.

He stares back before his brain finally reboots properly and backpedals, “As in back to your room. Not- you don’t look like you had much sleep, either.”

Still smirking, I heave a sigh. “Yeah, I didn’t.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

We remain in silence for the rest of the time, listening to the babbling of the stream and the birds finally getting noisy around us. We remain unspeaking even when we see Karma climb down from a tree, licking his lips and struts back to the house. We remain quiet even when our backs are finally warm from the sun and Mrs Oliviera has to holler from the back door to announce breakfast is ready. 

Is this what Jungkook meant to be open? If it is, then I guess it’s not so bad after all, I think, as my head rests against Namjoon’s strong shoulder, something that naturally happens somehow in between the silent hours that passed.

***

I stare at the piece of paper Jungkook handed to me. 

“What is this?”

“It’s a schedule,” he answers, pointing to the title in big, bold letters on the top. “See?”

I frown, holding out the paper to him. “It’s just days and your names on it. What kind of schedule is that?”

Taehyung laughs, coming over to see. “I got the first day! Monday!”

“Yes,” says Jungkook, replying to you. “I told you, you’ll have to spend the days with us leading up to Sunday when I tell you the full story of the Eight Lovers. The schedule is to give us equal time with you.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously? Why can’t it just be more natural? This is so weird.” I wave the paper over my head before Jin plucks it out of my hand.

Chuckling, Jin passes the schedule back to Jungkook. “I have to agree, kid. It’ll feel forced.”

Jungkook exaggerated a pout. “Fine. I put a lot of effort into it though.” He takes the paper and carefully folds it into a small square, stuffing it into his pocket. He sits down but his bottom lip still juts out. 

I pat him on the knee. “Nice handwriting though, Kookie. But no schedule, thanks.” I look around the room, suddenly feeling awkward. “So, um, what do you suggest we do first?”

“As a team or as a couple?” Taehyung asks nonchalantly.

~~~

Jin watches your eyes widen at the question and he wants to tease you so bad for it but Jimin beats him to the punch.

“I want it as a couple,” Jimin says cheekily, leaning into your face as he grabs a handful of nuts in the bowl next to you before moving away. You blush, looking away to hide it from Jimin but Jin sees it clear as day. He catches your eye and smiles knowingly, laughing at the defeated pout on your lips. 

To be honest, Jin’s stomach is unsettled right from the moment he was told of the week’s plan. It’s not that he’s not happy about it, he is, very much so. But this nagging feeling is worming through his nervous system and he just can’t shake it off. The picture of a thunderstorm cloud in the distance is stuck in his head and no matter how much he tries to tell himself it’ll be okay, the more dread fills his heart. 

“Let’s just do what we always do,” Namjoon says from the corner of the room where he’s sitting with a book. “Just don’t think about any of this.”

You grimace. “The more you tell me not to, the more I will.”

Yoongi enters the room with two mugs of steaming tea. He casually passes over one to you and he takes a seat across from you. He blows over his mug, eyes on you, watching the way you nervously chew on your lips and wondering if you even notice what you’re doing as you fidget with a loose thread of the sofa, your legs under you. It takes him back to a time when he would have been sitting next to you instead, one arm around your shoulders. 

Yoongi remembers that time well, back when the wonders of medicine hadn’t really reached their part of the world yet. The winter cold had seeped into the room through a crack in the window he had been meaning to fix for a long time now, your legs huddled under you for warmth. He had pulled you close against his front, sharing body warmth as Jimin had gone upstairs to retrieve a blanket. 

You had been chewing on your lip as you are doing now, your hair covering your face as you looked down. Yoongi had squeezed your shoulder, earning a turn of your head and a weak smile. He kissed your temple, his other hand wrapping around your extended belly. 

That time, centuries ago, he had assured you that everything will be okay, pretending that his heart wasn’t weighing heavily on his stomach, just like right now as he watches you across from him. Your eyes meet his and he smiles reassuringly as he always does, hoping that you get his message, telling you it’ll all be alright, something he hopes wouldn’t count as a lie. But that memory in time hadn’t ended so well and he dreads that it would be the same this time, too. 

The seven of them watch you take a deep breath, sitting up straight and looking around the room. You exhale slowly and with that, a slow smile carves on your face. There’s a sort of acceptance in your eyes, a clarity none of them has seen before. You nod your head a little and Namjoon wonders what you are telling yourself. 

And just like that, without a word, you just naturally inserted yourself into Jimin and Jungkook’s conversation, sliding down onto the floor to get on the same level with the boys, bumping knees with Jimin but not minding that they’re touching. 

For a moment, Hoseok feels slightly at ease, relaxing in his seat, ignoring the banter between Jimin and Jungkook, focusing on you, on how you laugh and the way your eyes squeezed shut. For now, he’ll pretend he didn’t see the look on Jin’s and Yoongi’s faces, that he didn’t notice the flicker of fear in their eyes nor the foreboding feeling creeping up his back. 

For now, he’ll just be happy and entertain the idea that they are on the road to normal, if normal even applies. All he knows is that he won’t have to hold back any longer, that he doesn’t have to hide how much it hurts not having you in close proximity. You’re here, with them, and that’s all that matters.

a/n: Wow, I haven't updated in so long. I...seriously have no excuse except that I haven't had the same amount of time to write as I use to. When I do have free time, I just want to rest without doing anything T_T please I need motivation to write T_T i have a kookie one halfway written when Seven came out and now Layover is here i just- drfrfncsdjcbegb *slaps self*

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