Deja Vu

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Wooyoung should have used his time to curl up and act out his inferiority while he came up with a genius plan on how to not get killed, but he couldn't help his distraction. He spent every free minute trying to spy Sǫndúlfr between the rows of savage Vikings that worked the oars to get them back to land as soon as possible. He stood out, for his face was just as hairless as Wooyoung's.

That same damn face again.

Seungyoun had told Wooyoung once how faces could reappear through history and how, especially among families with a clean ancestry, some facial features stayed very pronounced even after many generations. But this was getting ridiculous. Not only were they far from Babylon and Rome, but it had also been a thousand years now since Suusaandar had become part of the ashes of Babylon.

It was also the third damn time this face showed up right where Wooyoung time-jumped and he had enough of the faint wariness. An aura of secrecy wavered around the man who clearly didn't fit in with the other Vikings visually, but they ruffled his long and braided black hair just as confidently as that of the rest. And yet, each time he didn't seem to question Wooyoung showing up again.

Gnawing on his lips, Wooyoung glared at him. Three men, three epochs. All with the same features, voices, even similar names. Nothing on this earth could prove to Wooyoung that this wasn't against all the odds.

But how would Wooyoung face this predicament? There was no harm in telling Sǫndúlfr he was a time-traveller. Either the man was one himself and their paths had crossed by accident, or he was actually innocent in all this and just wouldn't understand the witchcraft Wooyoung would blabber about.

Should he risk it? This man was not exactly part of Wooyoung's mission and messing with him, especially in their brutal Viking setting, might be the last mistake Wooyoung made.

But he was just so curious. Hell, he had even slept with a guy sharing those exact features. If anyone deserved to know, it was Wooyoung.

Was he an acquaintance of Yongguk, perhaps? Had he been sent to have an eye on Wooyoung? Or was he part of their rival institute in Asia that tried to snatch the recipe to immortality before Wooyoung's team could?

From narrow eyes, Wooyoung watched him. His mind in overdrive actually warmed him. Most of his muscles were tense with anticipation of what the Vikings would do to him, so his body gradually heated back up under his blanket.

A devious little idea popped into Wooyoung's head. With a dramatic sniff, he sunk further into himself until he was no more but a little ball at the corner of the ship. He pretended to shiver pitifully and curled and twisted as if in pain.

It took only a while until the man nearest to him got annoyed enough that he informed the controlling lady of it. With a sigh, she merely looked at Wooyoung once and then bellowed over the ship.

"Someone take Sǫndúlfr's place! Sǫndúlfr, take care of the plucked chicken. Ask him what else he needs. No use in fishing him out if he dies now." She grumbled to herself before she stared into the grey sky as if asking her gods what she had done to deserve this. If they were under surveillance right now, Wooyoung hoped Loki would be proud of him.

Once more, Sǫndúlfr stomped over to take care of Wooyoung. This time, he picked him up from his corner to carry him in his arms as one would to with a child. With big eyes, Wooyoung stared at the bulging muscles under his tanned skin. Or, well, the stripe of skin he saw through the wolf's pelt that the man wore around his shoulders over his grey tunic. It matched his fur gauntlets and the grey pants that looked ridiculously cosy on his broad frame. The boots on his feet were adorned with the same fur that looked soft but was probably clammy with mud and ocean salt.

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