#but anyway the idea of loop pierced by cupid arrows was just too good in my head

[daily-sifloop]

Day 47: backstabbed

[jincherie]

opia || pt.1

✩ — pairing: Taehyung x reader ✩ — genre: cupid!au, soulmate!au, cupid!Taehyung ✩ — words: 6.7k+ ✩ — warnings: summoning of an otherworldly being, um there’s not really anything else ✩ — notes: AH here is the first part! It’s not too long because I just need to set the scene and get things started, but also it took a while because I had a massive writers block about where and how to start this??? Idk I’m mostly past it now. sidenote:|| I did wonder whether or not I should post this now, but I decided that ultimately I should. Everyone deals with grief in different ways, and I hope that for those of you seeking a distraction this can help in some way. Please remember I love and appreciate you all :)

Taehyung has been matchmaking since the dawn of time, bringing souls together with their other half and inspiring love. But as time went on the joy he gained from his job and creating happiness for the humans began to fade, a wanting and desire welling up in him with each century that passed for something more, something unattainable, something he knew he wouldn’t ever have. Taehyung knew why he didn’t have a soulmate, and why he couldn’t ever experience love as the humans did. But then, he couldn’t seem to fathom… why didn’t you?

masterlist || prologue | next  — posted; 21.12.2017

The bell of the café you often frequented chimed as you entered, the door closing gently behind you as you slipped in and made a hurried beeline for the table in the corner. There were two people already seated and they jumped in fright as you threw yourself into the booth, hands gripping the table to stop yourself from sliding too far along the seat.

“Christ, y/n!” Rosé yelped, hand coming up to clutch at her chest. She shot you a wide-eyed look. “Don’t just pop up out of nowhere like that!”

You were slightly out of breath as you sat there, pointedly ignoring her words, “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

“Why are you dressed like you’re on the run from the government?”

Your head whipped around at the sound of your other friend’s deep voice, meeting the amused gaze of one Min Yoongi.

Admittedly, you kind of were dressed like a half-assed fugitive, but you weren’t expecting to get called out on it so soon. Begrudgingly, you took off the cap and large shades you were sporting, glaring at your mint-haired friend, “It’s my new look.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, and tried to hide the small smile tugging his lips by taking a sudden sip of his coffee. You were glad he hadn’t probed further for the real reason you looked like some kind of truant, because honestly you’d be embarrassed to tell him.

You didn’t know whether you were going crazy or not, but it had all started a couple of weeks ago when you’d gone for a walk while waiting to pick Yoongi up from his late shift at the club. He was officially a bartender, but knew the manager well enough that he was often allowed to play his tracks and DJ on the odd occasion.

You’d arrived early, and gotten sick of waiting so had decided to go for a walk around that part of the city. It had been nice, you supposed— it was a lovely night and the river looked so much nicer when it was glimmering with the reflection of the city lights. You’d reached a courtyard, one you’d often come to with Yoongi and sometimes Rosé to have lunch, and stopped to admire the serenity of the scene at night. That was when you’d caught sight of him.

He had been absolutely stunning, almost ethereal as he entered the courtyard from your left with such a raw, powerfully magnetic aura you couldn’t do anything but stare on in awe. Everything about him drew you to him, and you couldn’t bring your gaze to part from his form. He almost seemed to glow in the dim light, and there was something about him that almost seemed to shimmer before your very eyes, like you were gazing upon a mirage instead of another human being.

You’d watched, unable to shift your gaze, as he strode forward, each step confident and assured, and stopped at the top of the stairs that marked the true entrance into the courtyard. For a moment he stood still, gaze falling on the opposite side of the courtyard, before suddenly he moved. You blinked, and it was only then you saw the intricate, carved bow in his hands. Through the foggy mixture of awe and curiosity sitting over your mind like fine mist, there was a distant pang of alarm. He had a bow.

This time when he moved you didn’t blink, and you saw as he lifted his hands and arrows— golden, with tips dipped in crimson—seemed to almost materialise in his grasp. The breath that had left you at the sight of him suddenly caught in your throat, alarm blaring like a foghorn in your mind and clearing the mist that had settled over your thoughts. A slight sense of panic welled in your chest as you watched, still unable to shift your gaze, as he nocked the arrows and drew—

A sharp gasp had torn from your throat as the arrows flew through the air and you were finally able to tear your gaze from the man to watch them, just in time to see them hit the chests of two women across the courtyard and disintegrate into fine crimson glitter upon impact. Shock, confusion, fear— you were drowning in a peculiar cocktail of it all as your gaze flew back to the man at the top of the stairs— but was he really just a man?

You had been rooted to the spot, mind urging you to run, to get away because this was new and scary and you had no idea how to respond to it, at all. Just as you’d found the will to move your leaden legs, the man shifted, head turning, and his gaze caught yours, and all at once you felt as though you’d been shocked. His eyes widened and electricity fizzled down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck raising sharply. You stood there for a moment, frozen and locked in this man’s magnetic gaze, before finally your brain kicked back into gear and you regained control of your limbs.

You’d turned on your heel and ran. You hadn’t glanced back, but a glimpse as you turned told you he had remained where he stood, looking every bit as frozen as you’d felt just before.

Of course, after that, ‘confused’ hadn’t been enough to describe and properly articulate what you were feeling. You’d just seen a man, a beautiful man with the face and body of a greek god, materialise a bow and arrow out of thin air and shoot two women with it— except, when it hit them, it hadn’t pierced them. It had burst into a shower of crimson glitter upon contact and they looked like they hadn’t even realised. You didn’t know what aspect of the situation threw you for a loop the most.

That night had been alarming, but you would have been able to easily dismiss it as perhaps a fever dream, or a figment of your imagination. It wasn’t enough to have you sneaking around in broad daylight and dressing, as Yoongi had ever-so-flatteringly put it, like you were “on the run from the government”.

You would have been able to dismiss it, except that wasn’t the last time you saw the man with the magnetic aura and dangerous eyes. Ever since then, you’d been running into him by chance, catching sight of him from across the street, glimpsing him in malls and on the train. Perhaps you wouldn’t worry so much if each and every time his head didn’t whip around and he didn’t catch sight of you, too.

Despite the shock you’d always see on his face, you were… paranoid. Was he following you? Did you really see something you weren’t meant to see? What did you see? He’d always start, and move as though to come towards you, but you were quicker. If anything at this point you’d call yourself an escape artist. By the time he’d catch sight of you and it would register that he’d seen you, you were already well on your way out of there.

So, you’d resorted to this— a half-hearted disguise, in case he really was following you. Although, you admitted, it was pretty weak as far as disguises went. Just a cap and large sunglasses, and maybe a hoodie if the weather permitted it. You really needed to work a bit harder on it.

“Anyway, as I was saying before y/n showed up and nearly killed me,” Rosé sent you a mock-glare, and you responded with a shrug and a cheeky smile. “You guys remember how I applied at that company the other day, for the stylist position?”

You nodded, reaching for her drink and taking a sip before she noticed, “I don’t know why you didn’t just apply to be a trainee— your voice is lovely, Rosé, and you’re gorgeous.”

The raven-haired female smacked you on the arm, a pretty blush rising to her cheeks. “Shut up! And thank you, but I don’t think that’s the life for me.”

You shrugged, taking another sip as Yoongi spoke up, “You were saying? You applied at the company as a stylist?”

Rosé spun, beaming so brightly you wondered if everyone else felt like they were looking at the sun when they saw it too. “I got the job!” she burst, hands raising in excitement. “They called me this morning!”

You grinned, poking her arm. “That’s amazing, Rosie! I’m so proud of you!”

The girl beside you grinned so brightly she almost glowed, her voice high and coloured with excitement as she spoke, “Thanks, y/n! Oh, and guess what!”

You didn’t even have a chance to open your mouth and attempt to guess before she was excitedly gushing the answer, “I managed to get you a job too! They said they were looking for someone to work as an assistant for one of their models and asked if I knew anyone that would be interested, so I told them about you and after hearing it they were pretty much sold! They gave me this to give to you— you have a meeting with them at 10AM on Friday to sort out all the details!”

You could only blink in shock as she finished with a squeal, taking your hands in hers and moving about. Distantly, you heard Yoongi snickering at what was no doubt a dumbfounded expression on your face.

“Isn’t this great, y/n?” Rosé crowed, warm brown eyes glimmering with happiness at the fact that she’d done something to help her best friend. “You won’t have to struggle with interviews and placements anymore!”

The significance of what she was saying finally caught up to you. Belatedly, a gasp tore from your throat that had Yoongi laughing louder. “You got me a job!”

Rosé nodded, and you abruptly launched yourself at her, bringing her into your arms and making dramatic wailing noises. “Rosie! You got me a job! God, I love you!”

She giggled, her own slim arms coming to wrap around you, a hand patting your back. “I know you do, and you’re welcome.” She pulled back, her hands finding your shoulders as he expression grew solemn and she stared you down. “I’m the one that recommended you, so don’t screw this up or they’ll be on my ass.”

You gave a light snort, rolling your yes playfully but you nodded nonetheless. “Please, Rosie, I’m an angel.”

Yoongi snorted and you decided to be the better person and ignore him. That is, until he opened his mouth, “I, and many other people you know, would beg to differ.”

“Shut up Min Yoongles,” you retorted, nailing him with a half-hearted dirty look. “You wouldn’t know an angel if it flew over and smacked you in the face.”

The mint-haired male shot you a smile that you could only describe as knowing before he hid it once more by taking a prompt sip of his coffee. Suddenly perplexed as to why Yoongi had adopted a look like he knew something you didn’t, you opened your mouth to grill him about it when the sound of Rosé’s soft laughter greeted your ears.

“Ah, it’s good to know no matter how long we go without seeing you you’ll never change,” she hummed, looping her arm through yours. She straightened suddenly, turning to you with wide eyes. “Oh right! Don’t forget y/n, the three of us have a date tonight!”

At your look of confusion she gasped, affronted, and Yoongi snickered. His deep tone reached your ears, voice playful, “Don’t tell me you forgot, y/n.”

You made a face at him and Rosé groaned. She smacked your arm, eliciting a sharp yelp from you as she spoke, “y/n, you idiot, tonight is the night Yoongi has a gig at that high-end club in the city. We said we were going to go there and support him…?”

Recognition sparked somewhere in the back of your mind as you remembered. You felt a little guilty for forgetting, especially since it was pretty significant— this would be the first time Yoongi was performing somewhere that wasn’t his own workplace. Yet, at the same time…

You narrowed your eyes at the raven-haired girl by your side. “Support him? You mean you’re going there to prowl for some fresh di—”

“y/n!” Rosé yelped, cheeks flushing sheepishly as she whipped her head around to make sure no one in the café heard you.

“—all the while leaving me alone and awkward at the bar to drink my sorrows away?” you finished, raising an eyebrow at her.

Yoongi laughed, nearly choking on his drink, at the borderline mortified look on your friend’s face. “Listen, just because both of you are literal hermits,” Rosé hissed, pinning you both with a dirty look. You tried not to laugh, you really did. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go out and enjoy myself if I want. And you know what? It’s true, the crowd at the other place is getting old—”

A strangled noise escaped you as you tried not to burst into laughter. Yoongi grinned at the bristling raven-haired girl, “You really mean there’s no dick there you haven’t already tried—OW!”

Rosé threw the spoon by her hand at him and it made a satisfying noise as it connected with his forehead. The action made you break, laughter tumbling from your lips. Rosé reached and picked up the spoon from where it landed on the table after bouncing off Yoongi’s forehead and proceeded to hit you with it, crying out, “Shut up! Oh my god I hate you both!”

Eventually your laughter calmed down and Rosé’s violent spell dispersed, and your little weekly get-together proceeded as it usually would, the three of you filling each other in on the latest gossip you’d gathered over the past seven days since you’d gotten together last. You saw each other briefly before now, of course, but it was almost a ritual that you would gather of a Monday morning and cleanse yourselves with some good bitching and impromptu therapy for the week ahead. Usually, you left feeling lighter than ever after spilling your guts, but today… today you left feeling just as troubled as you did walking in.

You hadn’t mustered the courage to tell your best friends about what had been bothering you, the irrational fear of them labelling you as crazy inhibiting you from allowing all your fears and worries to gush forth. You knew, of course, they’d never judge you, they’d support you, and yet… you hadn’t been able to force the words from where they sat at the tip of your tongue.

Perhaps there was a reason, you pondered. Maybe you were making the whole thing out to be a bigger deal than it really was. Maybe, subconsciously, you knew it would be a ridiculous thing to confess to your friends— that you’d seen someone in the dead of night shoot two women with a bow and arrows made of gold that exploded into a shimmering show of glitter, and that ever since then you’d been seeing him everywhere you went. It had been late at night, you’d been tired, and pretty stressed lately—perhaps it was all a hallucination? A vivid dream conjured by your imagination that seeped a little too much into reality?

For the sake of your own sanity as you exited the café and went on your way to complete your errands for the day, you decided to dismiss it as just that. You didn’t want to be running around in the shadows anymore, paranoid every time you turned a corner that the man from that night would be there. It was a dream, you affirmed. It had to be— especially since no one on this earth could possibly be as beautiful in real life as that man had been.

x     x     x     x     x     x     x

With a certain amount of flair that only he could possess, Taehyung threw the final ingredient into the carved, deep bowl on a stand before him and snapped his fingers. At once the contents were set alight and flames, cerulean and white, licked at the gleaming precious metal of the bowl while the ingredients— petals, leaves, a coin, a small piece of parchment— burned to ashes. The flame remained strong in the bowl, and Taehyung whispered the name of the being he wished to summon in a low baritone that echoed eerily off the walls with the power thrumming through his veins. His eyes slid closed as he waited for the tell-tale sound of their arrival.

There was a flutter, air rushing against him like a gentle breeze that caused the flame in the bowl to flicker and sway, and a loud curse filled the air, “Shit, Taehyung, again?”

The male in question turned on his heel, a bright smile pulling shapely lips. “Jiminie!” he beamed, pleasant chocolate orbs swirling as he greeted the disgruntled figure standing by the window. “You came!”

It was a male of short yet powerful stature, eyes dark and warm as they swept over the room before falling over Taehyung. He folded his arms and tilted his head, windswept raven locks falling over his forehead as he pinned the younger with a pointed look. He licked his plump, pink lips before he spoke, voice light and melodic as it graced the air, “Well, yeah. You summoned me, dumbass.”

Taehyung grinned, waving his hand in a sweeping gesture so that the blue flames still licking at the bowl beside him flickered and went out completely. No longer bound, the shorter male’s form visibly relaxed. “That’s true, but you can always resist the call.”

Jimin stepped forward, rolling his eyes, but his expression softened slightly as his dark gaze moved to meet that of the younger. “Whatever, Tae. Is there a reason you called me this time, or are you interrupting my day for fun again?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened innocently, large hand pressing to his chest in mock offense. “Of course there is a reason! I need you to do something for me.”

The male sighed, snapping his fingers and falling back onto the lavish couch that appeared behind him, bringing the cocktail that appeared in his hand to his mouth for a resigned sip, striped straw pressing between plush lips. “Of course you do. What is it this time, brother?”

The ashen-haired male shifted, resting his hip against the desk and sending the older male a look that bordered on pleading. “I need you to find out information on someone for me.”

A dark brow rose, surprise filtering over his pleasant features. “Information on someone? A human?”

Taehyung nodded, arms folding over his chest as he mentally prepared himself should his brother choose to tease him with the material he’d just given him. To his surprise, the raven-haired male just shrugged, letting out a soft ‘huh’ as he sent him a curious look.

“Why do you need information on a human?” he queried, dark eyes sparkling with something akin to mischief as he pinned the other with a playful look. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten into trouble with someone in the human world again.”

Shaking his head frivolously, Taehyung brought his hands together, pleasant chocolate eyes pleading. “I didn’t! Please, Jiminie, can you do this for me? There’s something I need to figure out.”

Jimin shot him an odd look, but let out a sigh nonetheless, taking another resigned sip of his drink. “Fine, I’ll see what I can find. Who is this human I’m looking for, what’s their name?”

The ashen-haired male beamed gratefully at him, “Thanks, Jimin-ah!” he grinned, before a sheepish expression washed over his pleasant features. “And, uh, well… it’s a girl. Um…”

When he didn’t continue further, a look that was a curious cross between knowing and disbelief graced Jimin’s face as he sputtered on his drink. “You called me here to find information on someone and you don’t even know their name?” he scoffed lightly, eyes slightly scolding as they met Taehyung’s own. “I’m no miracle worker, Taehyung. We both know that’s not one of my responsibilities.”

Jimin’s expression soured as his thoughts turned to the person in question, muttering something along the lines of, “If that brat doesn’t call me back soon it’ll be a miracle he doesn’t get his ass beat” under his breath. Taehyung fought a smile, hoping their brother was smart enough to respond to Jimin before he came after him and tore him a new one for ignoring him.

He didn’t speak, instead sending the older male a pleading look, begging him with wide eyes. Jimin sighed, acquiescing not for the first time to those puppy eyes he was so susceptible to. “Fine! Just, give me something to go off— what does she look like? What bonds did she have? What did her soul feel like?”

Taehyung’s grin fell at the first two questions, “I, uh… I didn’t see.”

Jimin gaped, looking ready to pop a blood vessel. “You didn’t see her bonds? Taehyung, how could you not see the strings stemming from her very being— that’s one of your gifts!”

A hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he offered a sheepish look. “I was looking, but she was gone so quick I didn’t have time to see them,” he said, words rushing. “But I kind of remember how she looked.”

Jimin took a large sip of his drink, swirling the contents in the glass to soothe the nerves thrumming with frustration. “Oh, good. What did she look like, then?”

Taehyung shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The sheer look of relief in his brother’s eyes almost made him regret what he was going to answer with. “…Beautiful,” he mumbled, moving his gaze aside so he wouldn’t see the drop in the raven-haired male’s face.

“Taehyung,” Jimin said seriously, glaring at him. “I’m going to murder you if you ever make me do something like this again. Is there nothing you can give me that will actually help? There are literally thousands of humans in this city!”

The younger offered an apologetic look, before closing his eyes and trying to remember what he could. “Her soul… it was warm, and strong— it’s not like any human soul I’ve ever seen before. I could feel it from across the courtyard; it was like it was pulling me towards her.” He opened his eyes, giving Jimin the rest of the information he could, “It was very bright, every time I’ve glimpsed her since then she has stood out from those around her. She’s quick though, always gone before I can commit it to memory and get a good enough read to be able to find her myself.”

“I see her most on the other side of town,” he added thoughtfully after a moment. “She must live in the southern suburbs.”

When he returned his gaze to his brother, he looked perplexed, but curiosity had sparked in his dark eyes. “Huh,” was all the response he got, the older gazing at him intensely for a moment longer before he stood promptly. Taehyung’s eyes followed him as he waved the lounge away and moved back over to the open window, drink still in hand.

“Well, now that I have the tiniest bit of something to go off, rather than nothing at all, I shall be off. Don’t summon me for a while,” he said, delivering the younger with a pointed look. “If you summon me before I’m ready I will beat you up— and if you see that brat, tell him to respond to me or I’ll beat him up too.”

Taehyung nodded, holding his hands up to show his cooperation. He offered a bright beam, “Thanks again, Jiminie.”

Jimin grumbled, raven hair shifting in the soft breeze from the window, “Yeah, whatever. Don’t thank me yet.”

Then Taehyung blinked and he was gone with a flutter and soft gush of wind, sunlight filtering through the open window and bathing the floor golden where he’d just stood. He allowed himself a soft chuckle now that it was safe to do so without the danger of Jimin throttling him, and began packing the carved bowl and its contents away neatly in the cupboard by his desk. He brought a key from his pocket and locked it, mind still on the contents of the conversation he’d just had.

He had been worried Jimin wouldn’t help him—his brother was in a position where he could easily find out anything he wanted about any one human, but with the amount of information Taehyung had—or rather the amount he didn’t have— even for him it would no doubt be a difficult task. He bit his lip as his thoughts went back further, to the reason he’d summoned his brother in the first place.

That girl… Taehyung hadn’t been entirely honest when he’d been speaking to Jimin. When he first saw her that night in the courtyard, he had glimpsed her with his Sight, and he had seen her bonds. But something perplexed him still, something he didn’t want to admit to Jimin yet because he himself didn’t understand it.

From her heart that girl had many rosy strings, something that signified healthy friendships, and several thicker strings of the same colour, something that signified healthy close friendships. These weren’t unusual— almost every human had friends, acquaintances and friends that were so close they were almost like family, just as every human had a soulmate. But when he had glimpsed at this girl, something had been missing, something that by no means possible should have been absent.

When he’d looked at this girl, there had been no telling, faint cord, realised or otherwise, that he was so used to seeing. There had been nothing. What he didn’t think was ever possible, was suddenly standing right in front of him.

When he’d looked at this girl, he hadn’t seen the string of a soulmate.

And Taehyung wanted to know why.

x     x     x     x     x     x     x

The booming bass of one of Yoongi’s harder tracks reverberated off the walls of the club and through your very being, the air thick and heady with the scent and sweat and lust. Already you felt hotter than you had before, your form-fitting clothes sticking that bit closer to your skin, the hair brushing your neck creating a pocket of warmth against your flesh. The dimness of the large room was broken by the globes that cast harsh, saturated colours across the dancefloor, the areas they didn’t touch lit in a violet glow. Already you were noticing just how starkly different this club was to the one you usually frequented to see Yoongi, expensive entry fee aside.

You’d wormed through the sweaty, mingling forms to reach the bar on the other side of the room as soon as you’d entered, Rosé hot on your tail, but the second your ass touched the seat she was off— just like you’d predicted. You didn’t really mind that much, but you weren’t looking forward to cleaning up the mess your best friend tended to become after nights like these spent with the wrong men. It was her choice, you couldn’t stop her, but sometimes you wished she didn’t keep walking back into the same scenario over and over again.

Yoongi had already been playing for an hour or so before you got there with Rosé, and from what you could tell the crowd was loving it. You could see him from where you were situated at the bar, and your chest swelled with pride as you watched him bounce with the beat, a gummy grin shifting his features. The night was going well for him and you couldn’t be any happier.

After deciding earlier in the day not to worry about the ‘problem’ that had been plaguing you all week, you felt lighter, like a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You wondered why you even got so worked up in the first place— did you really think you’d been seeing the man from your dream all over the place? You hadn’t so much as glimpsed him all day, only further cementing your suspicion that you’d been overly paranoid about the whole thing this whole time. You weren’t worried anymore, in fact you’d been on top of the world for the rest of the day, and had been looking forward to coming here as a sort of celebration for liberation from your own paranoia. Anticipation swirled in your gut, a prominent feeling that something good was going to happen tonight, something important. While you tried not to pay it too much mind, it definitely contributed to your current disposition.

However, as much as you rejoiced the good feelings running your mood right now, there was still a part of you that wondered— if it was just a dream, then why did you remember it so vividly? How was it you remembered his features so precisely that you thought you recognised him on the street? Even as you sat there, sipping the sweet drink in your hand, there was a part of you that feared maybe you had been right to be paranoid, and that any second now you were going to glimpse the beautiful man again.

It was a part that, with the aid of the drink in your grasp and the thrumming atmosphere around you, was easily snuffed out. You weren’t here to worry, you were here to enjoy yourself— even if that meant sitting to the side and watching your own friends have fun instead of you. If they were happy, then you were happy.

Hours passed with ease, and by the time it was nearing the end of Yoongi’s gig you’d downed perhaps one too many colourful drinks yet somehow managed to remain surprisingly sober— although your gross motor skills might beg to differ. You’d received a text from Rosé not too long ago to meet her at the door in fifteen minutes, and you decided in the meanwhile to enjoy the remaining time you had since you probably wouldn’t be going out like this again for a while. The feeling in your tummy had remained throughout the night, only seeming to grow stronger as time wore on. You ignored it.

Sipping the most recent drink you’d ordered—a deliciously sweet, swirling rosy cocktail that tasted like raspberry and vanilla on your tongue— you gazed over to the remaining large mass of bodies shifting and moving over the dancefloor, before your gaze moved over the rest of the establishment. You’d taken it in before, but it still awed you to an extent. Large, glittering orbs hung from the sweeping, high ceiling, and the already large room was skirted further by a second-story balcony that lead to more highly-coveted parts of the club beyond your sight. You allowed your gaze to flicker over the faces you could see with a mild sense of curiosity, a thought brushing the back of your mind as an idle reminder that you’d have to move soon.

Your eyes swept over the people mingling on the top balcony, only straying to glimpse at the glass ornaments that reflected the strobe lights and glimmered, shaking with the bass of the beat as it boomed through the speakers. Your gaze quickly returned to the people on the balconies, and you resumed your observation when you froze. Your heart skipped several beats, your blood freezing in your veins as recognition swept over you and caught your breath in your throat.

No, your mind, sluggish with intoxication, suddenly kicked into motion. It’s not possible, it isn’t him.

The man that had caused a cold flush of fear to wash over your body stood on the balcony furthest from the door. His tall form, fitted in a silken silver shirt and black slacks that accentuated his long legs and broad shoulders, leant enticingly against the metal railing. His back was to you, attention captured by the beautiful brunette before him, his ashen hair glowing multicolour beneath the strobing lights. The sight of him sent a jolt down your spine, a funny feeling shooting from your heart to mix with the sensation that had been present in your stomach all night. You fought the slight fear rising within you, the instinctive reaction that had taken a hold of you at the sudden stimulus and reaction, and tried to reason with yourself. You’d come to terms with the fact the whole thing had been a dream just today— this was a wild coincidence, someone who looked eerily like him. You hadn’t even seen his face, there was absolutely no way it could be—

Before you could even finish that train of thought the male beneath your gaze jolted, spine stiffening, and he turned. Your denial died in your throat as the very eyes that had fallen upon you that night now kept you trapped in their dark, magnetising gaze once more. You watched as shock spread across his face, a familiar sight by this point, and all at once you were suddenly aware you were in the same building as the man you’d been running from this entire time. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, but your mind was urging you to run once more, just as it had when you’d seen him draw his bow and fire at two women right before you.

Without thinking, your eyes flickered to the door where it stood on the other side of the mingling mass of people on the dancefloor, and when you looked back and realised your mistake it was too late. A look of realisation overcame his beautiful features and you knew then if you didn’t bolt now then this time he would most certainly catch you before you could get away. You wrenched yourself from your seat, and before you tore your eyes from his alluring form you saw him jolt, something that sent a spike of alarm down your spine.

You darted towards the crowd on the dancefloor, eyes trying to find the easiest path through as you weaved in and out of dancing forms oblivious to your current situation and panic. You wanted to push them aside, almost desperate to make it to the door, but amongst the blaring music and shifting bodies you could hardly make a path for yourself. Somehow in your journey for the front of the establishment, you’d been jostled and bumped, guided to the side of the dancefloor— closer to where you wanted to be yet so far away. You were closer to the corner of the room than you were to the open dancefloor and where you needed to be. Panicked, you knew you were running out of time as you moved to dart back towards the door before a voice reached your ears through the heavy, booming bass and froze you in your tracks.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

It was a smooth baritone, a tone so deep and powerful, so utterly commanding of attention you could hear it clearly through the music, as though it was being whispered right against your ear. Your body spun, like it was acting on a will of its own, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the man you’d been running from suddenly so close, so magnetic and so absolutely breathtaking before your very eyes. Your thoughts ceased as he stepped closer and through the intoxicated haze sitting like fine mist over your mind, you registered the peculiar scent of ylang-ylang, caramel, and something inexplicably warm that sent a shiver down your spine and a spike of exhilaration to join the swirling cocktail of emotion in the pit of your stomach.

You could hardly force the words you wanted to say from your mouth, could hardly think. Your tone shook as the words fell from your mouth unwittingly, “It’s y-you.”

He was beautiful, strikingly so and in a sense that you could hardly describe the sight of him as anything but ethereal. His eyes, warm and doe-like and framed by long lashes, held your gaze with such intensity and drew you in with such ease that you could feel your cheeks heating. He smiled, shapely lips curving into a smile that was decidedly sinful.

“Yes, me. You’ve been doing a good job of running away up until now, haven’t you?” he murmured, eyes keeping you trapped in place as he stepped forward. Something in you called for him, urged you to reach and touch him, and it terrified you. “But now that I finally have you here, there are some things I want to know.”

You couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe as he raised a hand and his fingertips brushed against your cheek in the softest, most tantalising of touches. A jolt of electricity sparked down your spine, setting your skin alight, and your senses returned to you all at once. You jerked back, taking two firm steps away but unable to make yourself take any more— he still held you in his gaze, after all.

Words gushed forth before you could stop them, a defence mechanism to compensate for how helpless you felt. “I don’t think I’m obliged to tell the person I saw shooting people with a bow and arrow in the dead of night anything,” you defied somewhat shakily, fist clenching as you tried to muster the will to step further away.

The man’s gaze swept over your body in a once-over that left a flash of heat flushing over your skin. His head tilted, ashen hair tickling his cheekbones and his single, long, glittering earring swaying with the movement of his head as an intrigued expression graced his almost angelic features. “Cute,” the sound of his deep voice caressing the word, in reference to you, sent a shiver down the length of your neck and spine. “I want to know, sweetheart, what’s your name?”

The longer you were in his presence the deeper you were drawn into him, yet the more awareness returned to you. You managed another step back, and he followed you with ease. You hardly registered the club, the dancing bodies or the booming music around you as his gaze burned into yours and you sobered more. “No,” you said, less of a waver in your tone. His eyebrows rose, and you took another step back, and another. “I’m not telling you.”

Something glinted in his eyes, sparked to life at the challenge you were presenting, and he took a step closer. You took another two back. Before he even managed to open his mouth, there was a loud call from behind you, high tone just barely reaching you over the music and causing cold dread to flush over you.

“y/n, come on! Let’s go!”

You stiffened, a muted sense of horror filling you as you saw the man’s face light in realisation, eyes darting between you and something behind you as he connected the information he’d received.

Realising you now had an opportunity, you used his momentary distraction to spin on your heels and bolt for the door. You had better luck creating a path now, and before you knew it you were by the door, rushing by a smiling Rosé who gave a surprised yelp when you pulled her out with you.

You moved as far away as you could, ignoring the somewhat slurred protests and questions Rosé was throwing at you as you dragged her along. Your mind was struggling, whirring as fast as it could with the remnants of your drinks hindering it. The image of the man was burnt so clearly into your mind’s eye, you were struggling to remain in denial. You wanted to go back to an hour ago, when you’d been so sure that he’d just been an image your mind had conjured while you slept. But with the scent of him still present in your nose, the feel of him a memory clinging to your skin, you couldn’t— you couldn’t delude yourself any longer.

The man you saw that night was real. He knew you saw him, and now he knew your name. a prominent feeling in your gut told you this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

And nothing alarmed you more.

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