Donghae awoke in his bed, the light of early dawn filtering in through his windows.

What a crazy dream.

He stretched as he usually did, only to feel that aching pain in his chest and back that he'd dreamed, and extreme foreboding washed over him.

Now he was suddenly wide awake, awkwardly clambering out of bed and rubbing at his chest as he made his way to the washroom and flicked on the light. He was still wearing what he'd remembered wearing yesterday afternoon, his work outfit of a maroon shirt and beige trousers. The shirt had a small hole over the right side of his chest, and it was still ed.

Quickly, he pulled the shirt off and inspected himself in the mirror closely. There. A mole, where he'd never had one before. Donghae turned around to look at his back, and sure enough, there was another mysterious mole to the left of his spine...the diagonal line between the two was distinctly where he felt the pain. Where he'd have sworn he'd been shot through with an arrow.

“What the hell did that guy do to me?” he frowned. Perhaps mercifully, anger and confusion began overriding the pain.

&&&

Hyukjae sat in his room, in his tiny tent. Well, it wasn't exactly a room, so much as a pocket of pure light he materialized with whatever he needed whenever he wanted to be by himself, think by himself. Which was his main pastime.

He reflected a lot on his mistake. On the fortuitousness of it. On the brown eyes, the sweet face of the mortal. The tears in the brown eyes and on the sweet face of the mortal he'd brought to this place. It was the first time he'd brought anyone here, no other being had ever been in his sanctuary, not even his coworkers. He'd never had occasion to bring anyone. Until he made that mistake.

Hyukjae tapped at one of the dangling lights that were strung around the opening of his tent, it flickered ever so under his touch. Maybe the fates really did mean for this to happen, as Leeteuk suggested. Perhaps only for the file to be updated appropriately and the assignment to be terminated. Who knew with them, they kept the details of their tangled web of red strings from mortals and gods alike.

What he did know was that he wanted to see Lee Donghae again. If only to check up on him as a courtesy. It was not because of the intoxicating scent that seemed to linger in this pocket of light, evocative of a mortal's cologne because that was impossible and imagined.

&&&

Donghae tried to recall everything that happened the day before. The memories of his usual early morning routine, workout, breakfast, shower, work...then he'd been asked by his coworker to meet in the park nearby on their lunch break. After that he remembered pretty almond eyes and then pain, and things were fuzzy and confusing beyond that. Was it really a dream? Or, nightmare? But that explained even less, considering he'd lost half a day and gained some new moles on his body coinciding with phantom pain and a ruined shirt.

Once he arrived at work, trying not to let his persistent bodily (and mind) discomfort show too much, he swiped his access pass and stood to wait for the elevator only to have his arm yanked.

“Ah,” he hissed a bit, the movement jarring his aching chest.

“What happened yesterday? We said we'd meet at the park but you never showed up, and then the director was looking for you in the afternoon and you never answered your phone?” his coworker, a kind young lady, spoke in a hushed and hurried tone, looking worried, though hadn't seemed to notice he was hurt.

Donghae held his hand to his chest reflexively, deciding the closest thing to the truth couldn't even be