All the times that time has taken you away from me | Hyunjin au| ୧ ֺ ｡part 1
synopsis: you always believed in the myths of past lives, soulmates, and twin flames, until these beliefs began to materialize in the dreams that visited you every night. Every morning, you woke up startled, feeling a sense of loss consuming you.
You tried to convince yourself they were just dreams, products of your mind, perhaps remnants of past traumas. Yet deep down, you knew everything could change in the blink of an eye. And everything did change when you met Hyunjin. Your world lit up, and you recognized him immediately, as if he had always been a part of your life. The arrival of this young man brought an intriguing mystery and a silent hope that destiny would cooperate.
But an unsettling question arises: would you and Hyunjin be willing to risk everything once again to live a romance, even knowing the inevitable outcome of it all? Destiny hovers uncertainly over your hearts, awaiting your decision.
'there was no greater pain than seeing
you lifeless in my arms.'
pairing: hyunjin x fem reader.
genre: romance, drama, angst (lots of it), mystery, smut, soul mates, forbidden romance, back in time, lovers from the past, strangers friends and lovers.
୧ ֺ ｡ masterlist
You found yourself unable to translate the sensations coursing through your body; it was an amalgamation of unfamiliar emotions. A joy intertwined with anguish, an anguish interspersed with fear. You detested experiencing these feelings, and the distress was amplified by the certainty that, most of the time, your intuitions proved correct.
Each surge of emotion was a rollercoaster, a chaotic situation between happiness and restlessness, between discomfort and apprehension.
You noticed how quickly your mother had accepted things, especially your marriage. There was something about it that aroused your suspicion, considering how much she had denied and resisted for so long. Though not a surprising turn of events, you preferred to believe she had finally come to terms with the situation. Despite finding her attitude strange, you still cherished the idea of being married to the prince.
You were still adjusting to this new sensation, even unable to fully believe it. After so many disappointments, arguments, and tears, alongside all the persistence, you had finally reached this point. Here you were, barely able to wait to take it all in once and for all, completely in love, involved, and committed to the prince. Every move, every thought was driven by this overwhelming feeling. The hours seemed to drag on as you longed for the moment to finally express these feelings, to make clear how much he meant to you.
Even though that had been clear long before.
You advanced with slow steps towards the prince's room, where he lay, wrapped in expectations and dreams of a kingdom yet to come. The idea of becoming queen still hovered like a distant mirage in your mind, but reality was beginning to solidify as you approached the destiny that awaited you.
Each step was laden with meaning, each thought echoed with the imminent responsibility you were about to assume. It was more than just the title of queen; it was the burden of leading a people, of making decisions that would shape the future of a kingdom.
Small steps echoed against the polished wooden floor, reverberating through the castle corridor almost swallowed by darkness. Torches cast a dim light, enough to reveal the outlines of the weathered walls. With each cautious step, your body jumped as you came upon an unknown figure. Dressed entirely in black, their face hidden beneath a somber hood made it impossible to discern their features. The tension in the air was palpable as you tried to decipher who or what stood before you.
"Sorry, princess," he murmured with a hoarse voice and a tone laden with sadness. You tilted your head in confusion, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign, while the weight of his words hung in the air, carrying a palpable tension.
"What..." you murmured, surprise taking hold before you could react. Your eyes widened as a gleaming blade suddenly flashed, wielded with determination. A cry of alarm escaped your lips, echoing in the tense air, while your muscles instantly tensed, preparing for the imminent confrontation with this unexpected threat.
Blood gushed in a violent stream, meticulously infiltrating every fiber of your delicate white dress, painting a brutal contrast against your pale, immaculate skin. A shiver ran down your spine, your eyes dilated in a frantic dance of shock and terror, capturing the intensity of the moment in a whirlwind of emotions. The violent impact swept through your body, causing you to collapse against the rough floor, an intense wave of pain spreading as you desperately tried to catch your breath.
Your limbs felt heavy, every movement a tough battle against the dizziness threatening to overwhelm you. A whirlwind of confused and incoherent thoughts assaulted your mind, a cacophony of voices trying to decipher the inexplicable, while your senses struggled to orient themselves in the haze of pain.
In a moment of confusion, you woke with a start in bed, your body covered in sweat and your breathing ragged. A brief relief flooded your mind as you realized it had all been a terrible nightmare. Still trembling, your eyes scanned the room for solace in the familiarity of the furniture.
The dream's images persisted, echoing in your mind, prompting you to reflect on your deepest fears and question the origin of these disturbing visions. With your breath still ragged, you tried to dispel the frightening images, clinging to the reality around you. In the suffocating silence, a familiar voice broke through the stupor plaguing you, rescuing you from the abyss of nightmares.
"Hey, are you okay? Another one of those bad dreams?" Minho inquired, his presence firm at the bedroom entrance like a beacon in the darkness. Concern overflowed in his words, echoing the genuine affection he always showed. Even in the semi-darkness of the hallway, you could glimpse the lines of tension marking his face, silent witnesses to his distress over your suffering.
Since you were 15, Minho had always been vigilant about your dreams, or as he called them, nightmares. Each night was a battle against the monsters inhabiting your subconscious, a fight he waged with determination and courage. You admired his dedication to protecting himself from this nocturnal torment.
Minho's constant concern for your well-being did not go unnoticed by you. It was evident in every gesture, in every attentive gaze. Since the day you met at age 8, you always knew you could trust him blindly. Your friendship was an anchor in life's storms, a safe harbor where both found comfort and support. Even after 13 years had passed, the connection between you and Minho remained as strong as on the first day. It was as if time had no power over the solidity of this bond.
"I'm fine," you murmured, trying to control the tremor in your voice. Your heart still pounded frantically, echoing the remnants of the nightmare that had haunted you. However, something subtly different hung in the air that morning. As you struggled between calmness and restlessness, the dream's images persisted in your mind, as if etched with painful clarity.
You were fully aware of the situation and your feelings, but struggled to admit how emotionally shaken you were, knowing it could affect your sanity. "Sure? Can I get you a glass of water?" Minho asked again, his voice soft and concerned echoing in the room you shared, as he approached slowly.
"It's going to be okay, I'm sure of that," you murmured, trying to instill confidence in your words, although you knew sleep wouldn't return so easily after the nightmare. Minho caught the hesitation in your voice; after all, he knew you better than anyone. With a compassionate look, he gently agreed. "And yes, I'll want some water, and how about a generous slice of that strawberry pie left over from dinner?" he added, with a slight smile on his lips.
Minho's smile returned to his face, lighting up his eyes with a renewed glow, evidence of his relief at noticing his own calmness reflected in your serene expression. "I'll consider your situation," he promised, his voice filled with a mix of compassion and consideration.
The sky began to brighten, heralding the sunrise. You woke up early, ready to start another day. As you glanced out the window, you noticed the serenity of the weather in Seoul that morning. The sun emerged gently on the horizon, bathing the city in golden light and creating a cozy atmosphere. You took a deep breath, feeling the cool morning air enter your lungs, while the sun's rays gently caressed your skin, contrary to the expectations of scorching heat.
Despite the recurring nightmares that never found a solution, you struggled to maintain positive thoughts and move forward. Peacefully observing the bustling streets of Seoul, you noticed teenagers enthusiastically walking towards school, their backpacks swinging rhythmically beside them. A slight nostalgia for your own adolescence began to arise, an involuntary smile forming on your lips as you remembered the days filled with energy and expectations. However, you were aware that you were now living a better moment in life. Attending your dream university and enjoying a fulfilling job was an achievement you deeply valued.
Your trip to the university campus proceeded smoothly. Fortunately, the dormitory you shared with Minho was close to the university where both of you studied. The decision to live and share a room with Minho had proven to be correct. After all, it was much better to share space with your best friend than with a stranger, at least that's what Minho always claimed.
Although you were late for the first class, you knew that in university time was more flexible and professors usually didn't care so much about it. It was one of the big differences from school, where schedules were stricter and responsibilities were more directed at students.
With hurried steps, you decided to make a brief stop at the coffee shop where Yongbok, the friendly barista, worked in the morning. The welcoming aroma of freshly roasted coffee filled the space, awakening your senses and inviting you to a refreshing break. Upon entering, the soft sound of background music complemented the cozy atmosphere of the place.
Navigating through the crowd of hurried customers, your eyes eagerly searched for Yongbok's familiar face. He was there, behind the counter, with a warm smile on his face.
"Shouldn't you be in class at this hour?" Yongbok asked, frowning as you approached the counter. He glanced at the watch on his wrist, a mildly surprised expression crossing his face as he checked the time.
"Oh, right, I should, shouldn't I?" you said, letting out a subtle smile that played on your lips, as you stood in front of the counter. With a teasing tone in your voice, you added, "But I can't go without my coffee and a good brownie." Reaching out, you grabbed a piece of brownie that was skillfully wrapped, ready to be savored.
"But first," Yongbok quipped, his words echoing as he deftly intercepted the brownie from your hand with a swift move. "Pay up first," he teased, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips as he extended his hand playfully, as if demanding payment.
"What?" you exclaimed, feigning surprise, placing a hand over your chest in a dramatic gesture. Your eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief. "I always thought that was reserved for closest friends," you added, letting out a soft laugh that echoed around. You watched closely as the boy's confused expression turned into a mischievous smile, waiting for his reaction.
"Oh, really?" the boy retorted, his voice playful as he shook his head in disbelief. "Brownies as gifts? Since when did that become a trend? Where did you see that happening?"
"Well, since you asked, I saw it on a cooking show where the host mentioned that brownies are a great gift option for friends." "But in this case, you'll have to pay to eat, right?" Yongbok shook his head and said, "Same as usual? Cappuccino and a brownie?"
You expected university life to be busy and hectic, but never did you imagine leaving a class carrying an armful of books, each one ready to be devoured and turned into detailed reports. You had your reasons for choosing history over literature, believing it would be a better fit for you, and you genuinely enjoyed the course, feeling a special connection to history.
As you arrived at the agreed spot, your eyes scanned the area until they found the figure of the boy. His red hair gleamed softly under the filtered sunlight through the leaves of the trees. A broad smile formed on your lips as you recognized him. With determined steps, you approached him, books securely cradled in your arms like a treasure to be shared.
"Hey," you finally said, directing your gaze at the boy before you. "Look who's here, the book girl!" Minho exclaimed, his curious eyes carefully scanning the stacked volumes in your arms. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he watched the scene unfold. "Looks like you've got enough books to start a library," he teased, injecting humor into the situation.
"I know, feels like I'm being inundated with stories from every angle," you replied, a playful sigh escaping your lips as you delicately placed the books on the table. There was a hint of sarcasm in your voice.
"Well, you did choose history over literature. And, look, it shows now," Minho said casually, shrugging as a friendly smile formed on his lips.
"I almost think literature has more books, I'm almost freaking out, Minho," you admitted, sincerity in your tone, feeling the weight of studies pressing on your shoulders. "I feel a real urgency to take a vacation, or I'm going to end up going crazy."
"We're all looking for a little relief, right?" the redhead said sincerely, a smile playing on his lips as he tried to lighten the mood. Both knew university life was exhausting. "But if you need a hand, I'm here. Not as a future psychologist, but as your best friend," Minho continued, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on yours, blinking slightly in a sign of mutual understanding.
"Thank you," you murmured sincerely, a smile lighting up your face. "I still can't believe you really chose psychology," you teased with amusement, letting out a chuckle.
The older one chuckled softly, the corners of his lips lifting as his eyes sparkled with humor. He casually ran his hands through his hair, accustomed to attracting attention, letting the strands settle naturally. "I know," Minho admitted, tilting his head with a mischievous smile lighting up his face. "Should've pursued an idol career, huh?" His teasing was accompanied by a playful twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh my God, I can't imagine you as an idol," you commented, still laughing, shaking your head in disbelief. "What position would you be? Main vocalist? Rapper? Dancer?"
"Don't know?" Minho replied, laughing, at the same time striking a thoughtful pose, tapping his chin with his index finger. "Maybe all of them?" he joked, winking with a smile, "I can be all in one."
"Multitasking," you agreed, laughing again.
"Oh, before I forget," Minho said, as if suddenly remembering something, and walked over to his backpack, pulling something out. "Here you go, your strawberry tart," he announced, displaying the package with a smile on his lips. "Not my recipe, but still good," he chuckled casually.
"Minho!" you exclaimed, surprised, watching the package in the boy's hands, your smile shyly widening. "Thank you, that's so kind, Minho," you expressed enthusiastically, pulling him into a warm hug. You knew life could throw a series of challenges, but Minho was a constant. It would never be a problem; you trusted him with your life.
