Jeon Jungkook's life was quiet. That was his word for it: quiet. He worked as a freelance designer, his days spent in the hushed glow of a monitor, his evenings devoted to simple pleasures like good music and the occasional painting.
There was an easy rhythm to his existence, peaceful and entirely uncomplicated.
The only place where this quiet was disrupted was in his sleep.
For the past few months, his dreams had centered on one strange, specific location.
It was a stretch of overgrown, disused railway track, flanked by tall, swaying grass and gnarled trees.
The air in the dream was perpetually still and smelled faintly of damp earth and moss. The sky was always a hazy, soft gray, suggesting either an eternal morning or a perpetual dusk.
It was a peaceful place but profoundly lonely.
Jungkook often walked those tracks in his dreams, the gravel crunching under his feet, feeling the unique sensation of walking on railway ties; a familiar, strange comfort that felt older than his own memories.
Tonight, the dream began as usual. He was walking along the tracks, counting the ties, the familiar rhythm already calming his subconscious mind.
He stopped beside a rickety, unpainted bench that always sat near a small cluster of violet flowers.
But tonight, the silence was different. The lonely atmosphere had changed.
Sitting on the bench, turned slightly away from him, was a man.
Jungkook felt a jolt of shock, the kind that snaps you almost awake, yet he remained trapped in the dream logic. He had never seen this man before, yet his presence felt immediately right, completely natural to the quiet, mossy landscape.
The man was handsome in an arresting, elegant way. He wore simple, dark clothing that seemed slightly out of place, out of time, too formal, perhaps, for this overgrown wilderness. He had broad shoulders and dark hair that fell perfectly over his forehead.
As if sensing Jungkook's gaze, the man slowly turned his head.
Jungkook's breath hitched. The man's eyes were dark, clear, and immensely kind, holding a look of recognition so immediate and profound that it made Jungkook's heart thump heavily in his chest.
The man offered a gentle, slow smile that seemed to light up the hazy twilight of the dream.
"You're late today," the man said, his voice deep and warm, carrying a low resonance that Jungkook felt deep in his chest.
Jungkook walked closer, his feet moving automatically toward the bench.
"Late?" he managed, feeling a strange mix of confusion and certainty.
"I... I don't know who you are."
The man simply patted the spot beside him on the bench.
"I know," he said easily. "But I've been waiting for you to find me here. I'm Jin."
Jungkook sat down, the wood cool against the backs of his legs. He found he didn't feel scared or even particularly surprised anymore.
He felt a compelling, sweet familiarity that's kinda weird if you ask him.
"I'm Jungkook," he replied. "What is this place?"
Jin's smile softened further.
"This is the in-between. And for a long time, it's just been mine. But now, it's ours."
Jungkook didn't quite get it, but it made him smile.
They fell into conversation instantly, easily, as if picking up a thread they had been weaving for years.
Jin was witty and thoughtful, possessing a quiet depth that drew Jungkook in completely.
He spoke of the railway line as if he lived near it, pointing out details Jungkook hadn't noticed, the way the rust stained the gravel, the distinct scent of the violet flowers.
Jungkook told him about his days, his art, his quiet life. Jin listened with an intensity that made Jungkook feel entirely seen, entirely heard.
Hours seemed to melt away, hours spent laughing, sharing secrets, and walking up and down the abandoned tracks, their shadows stretching long and distorted in the strange, perpetual twilight.
Jungkook knew, with the clarity only a dream can provide, that Jin was a complete stranger, a figment of his subconscious.
Yet, when Jin turned to him and smiled, the familiarity was so strong, so compelling, that it was impossible not to be drawn to him, to be lost in him.
He was the handsome man of the dreams, the perfect companion in this quiet railway sanctuary.
And somehow, these unreal feelings already felt more real than anything in his waking life.
The next thing Jungkook knew, he was awake.
He was in his own bed, the morning sun streaming through his city window. The scent of morning replaced the smell of damp earth.
Jungkook sat up quickly, his heart rate elevated, a strange, sweet ache in his chest. He reached out, half-expecting to feel the worn wood of the bench or the rough silk of Jin's sleeve.
He found only his familiar cotton sheets.
He was disappointed, almost painfully so, that Jin was gone. But there was a thrill, too. He knew, with absolute certainty, that tonight, on the quiet railway line, Jin would be waiting. He somehow knows... or hopes so.
Hihihi😈😈😈
🐺♡🐰
🕊💜💜
