Dreams – those luring, too sweet, unrealistic dreams – can be just as dangerous as real life. Sometimes, when people lose themselves to them, when they become too attached, even more so.

All around you hundreds and thousands of people are living the dream but you know better. You’re satisfied with your simple life as a coffee shop waitress (at least you tell yourself) as long as you don’t have people dying around you because of a mistake you made.

But trusting the wrong person has never been a single person’s fault. Dreams can kill a good man, you know it too well, and the sad colours of the sky reflect the grief of your heart with their always haunting memories.

Dark clouds are gathering outside, a black shadow covering the blue-ish grey of the sky like overspilled ink and soon, it weeps silver rain. It’s the kind of scenery you had only seen in dreams. The dullness of London rains gets a magical hue as the golden sun rays are filtered through the clouds.

An invisible hand seizes your throat with fear and you grab on the medallion hanging from a silver chain around your neck. It’s your totem, the telltale sign of the difference between reality and dream world. It weighs more in dreams but now it’s just as light as it’s supposed to be. A relieved sigh is torn from your throat and you take a deep breath telling yourself to stop being so paranoid.

After all, it’s been years now. Nothing has happened. Nothing will.

“Black coffee to the ninth table,” Mary calls out and you whip your head towards her, tearing your curious gaze away from the slick windows getting splashed by water, making those cry too.

You stumble to your feet, fixing your apron on your way out of the resting area. The ninth is your table, has always been since you started working here almost a year ago. Before that you have been coming and going, never staying at one place for too long. Here, the salary is alright and they don’t ask too much. They don’t care where you came from and why. The lady who owns the place took a good look on you back then and told you to stay with no questions asked.

The ninth table is a nice one, just by the window, in one of the brightest corners. It’s the closest to the patisserie counter, so it always smells sweet there. But when you see him sitting there with a local newspaper in his elegant hands, your steps halt and the coffee burns your fingers even over the ceramic pot.

The man at the ninth table has eyes like crows, dark and sharp. His gaze could kill, you remember, but now he looks around anxious and suspicious like every time he’s at a place he doesn’t know. His hair is shorter, black, bangs hang low into his forehead. He’s an older version of the self you remember (the one in your dreams).

Only your pride stops you from turning your back to him and walk away like you once did when you moved to the other end of the world (because of him). Years passed but eventually, he came after you. But why… and why now?

Questions burning your throat, your empty hand’s fingers idly fiddling with the hem of your skirt, you walk up to him as if you saw a ghost, a remnant of a man who once meant the world to you.

Suddenly, you can’t find your voice, it might be stolen by the Sea Witch but there’s no love on Earth that could help you get it back. Instead your gaze follows the sharpness of the man’s jaw, the straight line of his shoulders and admire the fitness he has in that black leather jacket he wears. He hasn’t changed much and yet, it’s like looking at a stranger when his eyes bore into yours.

Those black holes, you once knew all too well, now hold mysteries on their own, ones you can’t quite solve. His thin, pink lips are stretched to a tentative smile – smiles that are secrets to him, forgotten memories.

“Hey…” he speaks up in that hoarse, deep voice that never failed to send chills down your spine. No matter how many years passed, today isn’t an exception either.

“No,” you tell him firmly, straightforwardly with no shadow of doubt or even an ounce of hesitation. He seems taken aback by your harsh reaction.

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“But you only come when you want something, so no, I won’t do it whatever it is,” you shake your head, relentless as you stand straight, drawing confidence of the past year when you’ve been so much better off without all that grief you finally left behind you (or did you?) “Unless you want to order a coffee. That I can do.”

The cold of november rain is nothing to the iciness of your words thrown at the man before you. He looks at you conflicted, searching for the girl he once knew in you but you buried her deep enough together with the weakness you had owned. You won’t become so vulnerable, never again, you swore.

“I wouldn’t have come if I had any other choice, you know that, right? This job is important,” Yoongi swears and he never lied, not to you, but there’s a difference between believing in something and it actually being true. The two of you used to often disagree on the priorities, you might still do.

“Why? Why would it be any different?” you ask, curious of an explanation that could actually convince you. For you a job was just that: a job, nothing more but Yoongi sometimes took them too seriously, even risked his own life to get them done. The perfectionist in him couldn’t let any less.

Now, for whatever reason he needs your help. After not seeing each other for years, it must be huge if he came straight to you, stepping on the land of the British Queen to offer you a job again. You toy with the chances trying to come up with a good enough reason but what he actually says, surprises you a whole lot:  

“He’s one of us.”

“What?” you blink, more confused than ever. Is the one whose mind this client want to get is also an extractor? That has always been a no good business, it isn’t worth the risks, so Yoongi considering this is almost like sacrilege. It makes you hold your breath waiting his answer which he oh so carefully provides:

“It’s not a paid job. It’s vengeance. You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”

How can you not?

The boy with wonder in his doe eyes, always so in awe with the world. Beside Yoongi in the team, he became one of the best architects you have ever known, maybe he even outdid his own mentor. He held so much enthusiasm and had big, naive ambitions about saving the world of the evil it couldn’t get rid of. Accusing him of whatever he might have done seems ridiculous… Or is it just you who has always had a soft spot for him?

Hearing the name, one of the names you wished to forget over the years, you sit down onto the chair in front of Yoongi.

“After so many years, you really think that he was the one who betrayed us?” you ask searching for any sign of confidence or doubt in Yoongi’s eyes. He has neither, he stares back at you empty like he did when he watched you walk away back then.

“We found a few new hints, so he can prove them either wrong or right,” he says as if the world was only black and white, he has always had a kind of view on the world you couldn’t share with him. And when chaos came and broke all of you, it turned him into the monster only a black soul could. Trust for him has never had such high value before that and even you couldn’t earn that. “Jungkook is excellent at what he does, truly one of the bests. But we all know ladies are his weakness. He would let his guard down if…”

“Oh no,” you cut him off disbelief written clearly to your face, carved into the sad curve of your mouth. “You don’t need me because I’m one of the best forger of our time but because I’m a girl?”

You scoff with anger building up in you. He hasn’t changed at all. Why did you even consider it otherwise?

“I can’t believe you, Yoongi. you,” you spit and move to get up. But he reaches for you before you could turn away and grabs on your wrist, pulling you back. His fingers are cold, as always, cold against the rapid thrumming of your blood and you hate the betrayal of your own body.

“Look, this is important,” he says, pleads almost, so unlike him and his eyes tell you hundreds of lies and the loss you all had. It saddens you in a way it reminds you of what you had and if it really was worth of losing.

You take a deep breath and look him dead in the eye. Your next words are aim to hurt like hundreds arrows coming for his heart.

“Every job is so ing important to you, Yoongi. That’s why we broke up.”

This time, when you walk away Yoongi doesn’t keep you back, he doesn’t even try. Just like all those years ago, he just watches you slip out of his grasp and dissolve in distance until there’s nothing but an ache in his chest where his heart should be.

He doesn’t call you to get his ordered coffee, he isn’t even there next time you check the ninth table: he vanishes into smoke and foam but he leaves a business card on the table. Lost in a Dream - Special sleeping services, it says and there’s a Londonian address scribbled under it with the number 302. According to Google, it’s a hotel, not that you care.

You have trouble sleeping that night. Everything reminds you of forgotten faces and buried memories as if your past came back to haunt you. It’s been four years and you thought you moved on, that there’s no part of your life anymore that can claw their way back and slap you in the face. But grief has no expiration date. The pain dulls, the feelings fade but they never disappear completely. A trigger is enough, the appearance of a man from the past and the nightmares are right back in, shaking you awake in the middle of the night in cold sweat.

You have to realize that you have never completely gotten over your past or made peace with what happened. You ran like a coward. Maybe it took these four years to be brave enough to face the consequences and the truth.

In the morning, you call in asking for a day-off in the coffee shop. Then, with the business card in your hand you get into a taxi and tell the driver to go to the Blackfriars Hotel. It’s not a long ride, certainly not long enough to think through all the possibilities but you won’t turn back now.

The receptionist doesn’t even care when the bell rings above the door, she doesn’t even look up from the fashion magazine she’s reading, so you don’t bother to say hi either. You find the elevator quickly and from there, it’s a no-brainer to find the room 302.

But before the wooden door with the curvy numbers on it, you hesitate.

Are you really ready to be thrown back into the world of chaos and danger? Is truth really worth of sacrificing your peaceful, normal life for an adventure? An adventure that can leave with more scars, be them more mental than anything, the deadliest of all?

But you have to do this to lessen the guilt and properly tie all the loose strands that still bind you to the dream business. So brushing your worries away, the light sound of your knocks echo through the hallways.

Then you wait until you hear the soft paddle of approaching footsteps and you still as the door unlocks. When Yoongi opens it, he’s not that well put-together like he was yesterday. There’re tired circles under his eyes and his hair is mussled. He pushes down the sleeves of his white shirt in hurry as his eyes widen at the sight of you.

“You came,” he whispers and he looks at you as if you were a dream, a wishful thinking coming true.

“We own Jin this,” you say firmly and push your way past him, walking into the hotel room with the confidence of someone who owns the place.

There’s a dirty, empty mug on the table in the small kitchen and you see the open suitcase full of mechanics beside the unmade bed and the used IV needles on the bedside table.

Your throat closes up with a worry you have always known to have for him but the difference is that now you have no right to tell him to take care of himself. Does he go under alone a lot? you wonder and want to tell him how stupid and reckless it is but that’s not your place to do so. You didn’t come to preach anyway.

“Tell me the plan. Then I get to decide whether I want to do it or not,” you give him an ultimatum, the only thing you came for and you tell yourself  you would really have it in you to leave if the circumstances weren’t up to your liking.

“That’s all I ask for,” Yoongi nods and motions towards the couch but you’re not in the mood to take a seat. The man next to you sighs and sits down himself. “Jungkook has been trained with us, so he knows all our tricks. His mind is basically a fortress and probably has an army of projections to protect his secrets.”

You tilt your head, that much is true, you have known this all. Jungkook will definitely be a lot more difficult target than oblivious people or those who merely took a few lessons on how to differentiate dreams from reality. He’s a pro and you will have to outsmart him to convince him of the reality of the dream.

“It will take at least a week of preparation to find out his daily routine, but we don’t want to raise suspicion too much by following him around for long. Then, when we have him, I want to build a two-level dream,” Yoongi continues and it doesn’t slip past your attention that he avoids giving away too much details. You understand why; he doesn’t trust you entirely and you get it. He would be a fool to. You could just report all this to Jungkook, you could double-cross him if you really wanted to and given the way you said goodbye (or rather the lack of formal bye), you wouldn’t trust yourself either.

“A dream in a dream,” you muse out loud. It’s not that uncommon, you have done it together before but it can be dangerous, too. It needs another dreamer and a bigger dose of sedate which makes waking up riskier. If Jin was here you wouldn’t worry for a moment, he was the best point man in the business you knew. Sadly, he couldn’t save himself either.

“Yes, we will need that time in the lower level,” the strategist reasons but you are well aware that it’s not enough. Most missions are fine with one dream level, his plan must include something more special than the time factor if he really wants this that much, so you wait for him to go on and with heavy, guilt-laced voice he does: “I want him to go back to that mission four years ago.”

You in a surprised yelp at the mention of that ill-fated event. It makes sense after all, like everything does with him… eventually.

“You want him to reenact what happened because his subconscious will probably make him do the same if the setting is similar,” you speak aloud as you come to the only logical conclusion and Yoongi’s mouth twitches into a half smile. It’s similar to the look that he has on when he’s proud. It reminds you of your first missions and how much you wanted to earn this; his respect. After all these years, a little part of you is still proud that you haven’t lost your touch, nor your ability to read the mysterious man well, at least when it comes to work. But after all, you were colleagues first, lovers later. Maybe you weren’t meant to be both.

“That’s right. We won’t make him believe that the second level is reality, no, he should know that it’s a dream, a nightmare coming back to haunt him, so he won’t be that alert,” Yoongi explains further, voice low and calm like it is always concerning missions. An admirable trait, you have always thought so since you tend to be on the impulsive side when it comes to discussions. Another thing that makes you different.

Maybe it’s the underlying worry that has written itself into the crease of the man’s brows when he looks at you that makes you think this time he’s not that sure of himself. Yet, his next words still surprise you as they are almost as tentative as if he was afraid you might run off. “And that’s where I need you the most.”

At first you don’t understand the where and why but Yoongi is patiently waiting for you to come to the conclusion yourself. When you do, the breeze of your whisper is barely audible in the storm of your heart.

“You need me to forge myself into Jin.”

Yoongi flashes a sad smile and you know you’re right. You have always known how to read his strategies and you have to give him that it’s a good one. The truth will be relieved one way or another in a setting like this. But is it worth it? To give up on your normal life for a gamble and sacrilege against the dead? For a mission no one knows where it goes?

Yet, you don’t need much time to make your decision.

“I have a condition, though, a favour if you prefer,” you say and the cease of wrinkles on Yoongi’s forehead indicate his wariness.

“What is it?”

“I don’t want personal matters be involved in work. Whatever happened between us stays in the past.”

It’s a simple request yet you need him to agree, so you can work level-headed. Yoongi is too much of a professional to cross that line while being on a mission but you just want to make sure that you won’t be suddenly called out for your past decisions.

“Okay. That I can promise,”  your ex-boyfriend nods, agreeing to your condition which surprises you at first because he has always been the type who fights till he can for what he wants.

It might have been naive of you to think that he hasn’t moved on from you just because you never had an official break up. You moving out and leaving a note that you can’t do it anymore was everything you left behind for him. It might have been unfair to him but what you had by then was already just an excuse of a relationship. And now? Now as Yoongi looks at you with determination set in his coal black eyes, you can feel it in your bones: the sweet weight of being partners again.

“Are you in then?” he asks just to make sure.

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Thank you,” he lets out a deep sigh and his shoulders drop; he seems relieved.

“I don’t do it for you. I do it for Jin,” you remind him since you don’t want him to misunderstand. He doesn’t take it to heart though, he’s already up and rummaging through his bag searching for something.

“How is your Chinese?” he asks in the middle of it and it’s so out-of-the-blue that you become perplexed for a moment.

“It has gotten rusty. Why? Don’t we go back to Seoul?” you furrow your brows as you try to read between the lines. You haven’t talked about the location of the mission that much is true.

“No, we’re heading to Shanghai. Jungkook is working there now. We’ll meet the rest of the team there,” Yoongi explains as he takes out numerous little notebooks from a secret pocket of a suitcase. Your heart does a strange little squeeze at the mention of the team. You have missed them, you realize.

“Could you patch the old team back together?” you ask ever so hopefully. You might not want to throw yourself in the lines of danger again but you can’t wait to meet your old friends again.

“Namjoon never left but Tae has disappeared, nobody knows where he is. There’s a kid, Jimin, he joined as our new point man and Hoseok, he came with him but he has great connections and we might need an extra man to do the job.”

Yoongi doesn’t even look at you while he answers but you can hear the sadness of his voice, the longing for old friends, old times. That at least you have in common.

“You mean one more life on the line,” you mumble not actually meaning to say it out loud and when you realize you did, you look at Yoongi alarmed with teeth digging into the flesh of your lower lip.

“You know I would have never let Jin or anyone do it if I had known it’s dangerous,” he says and he looks rather saddened than angered by your statement.

“Every job we do is dangerous, we’re all aware but there’s always a point to stop and you can’t seem to know that.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything (he knows it’s true) just stands up and holds out a blue covered ID paper for you.

“He’s your fake passport with a Chinese visa.”

“You knew I would say yes?” you take it from him, heart weirdly fluttering when your fingers touch.

“I dared to hope,” Yoongi shrugs but he simply knows you too well. “Looks like a real one, right? Hoseok got it.”

Opening the passport you see the picture you had on your CVs in the past two years. This Hoseok guy is really good at what he does.

“Please, tell me we don’t play the old roles.”

Yoongi’s face splits as he smirks but it’s more awkward than he intended. So old roles it is: couples are always less suspicious than individuals when crossing multiple borders.

Ten days of sick-leave, that much you ask of your workplace and the next day you’re off to Mainland China. It should be a routine job, in and out, no feelings involved, you’d like to believe at least. But all those memories flooding back doesn’t help at all no matter how much you want to shut them out.

Yoongi doesn’t press, doesn’t ask invasive questions, doesn’t bother you or tries to make small talk. He only speaks when he has something to say about your journey or the plan. Otherwise, you’re just by each other’s side in silence. Yet, in every passing moment when you catch a glimpse of his side profile, the jawline that could cut, the way he holds himself, the sadness that now lingers in him more than before, you feel a slight pang of pain in your chest. He has had this kind of sadness in him before too and it squeezed your heart every time when you couldn’t help it with hugs and kisses. Now you know better, they root a lot deeper than that and more often than not, they need professional help.

It’s like waking up from a dream when you arrive to the lively city in the East. It’s very different from the London you called home in the last year. It makes you feel smaller, invisible and yet, the adrenaline that comes with it welcomes you home with open arms. It takes a taxi ride to get to the motel downtown. You bow to the Chinese girl at the reception desk as you pass by while Yoongi pays her no mind. After an awkward elevator ride, he knocks on a door on the fifth floor. The door only opens slightly ajar and a stranger’s head peeks out.

“Password?”

“What about I punch you instead?” Yoongi groans and you can tell he hasn’t changed a bit. It might be his cold, distant exterior but he keeps attracting these all smiles, bubbly people around him. Seokjin was also like that, too bright and warm. Yoongi often acted like he hated his childishly optimistic behaviour, his dad jokes and that wide grin on his face but he wanted nothing less than wipe off that sign of happiness. He might have been the leader, the strategist but Seokjin, being the hen, kept them together and he was indescribably grateful for that. The point man used to be so oblivious to everything around him but you are pretty sure that was all an act. Jin was a lot smarter than he appeared and for what people took him.

“Wrong, try with ‘what a lovely day to see you.’” This new guy grins and unlocks the door to usher you in.

“So he’s Hoseok. He probably s sunshine too,” Yoongi points at the smiley guy introducing you while you are at it. You laugh, offering a hand and telling him your name.

“Oooh you’re The Girl? We have heard so much about you!” Hoseok shrieks and casually swings an arm around your shoulder. “Did you like your passport? Did everything go smoothly?”

“Yeah, everything went fine, thank you,” you smile at him. It’s hard not to, he has a very warm presence. Still, you wonder what he might have heard about you.

“You actually came! Gosh, it’s been a while.” A tall, dyed blonde guy comes into the room and greets you with a wide, nostalgic smile.

“Good to see you, Joon,” you sigh and run into his arms that embrace you just the same he did all those years ago.

“You too, shorty,” he ruffles your hair and it’s such a big brother behaviour that it makes you miss old times.

“Are they here?” Another unfamiliar face peeks from the next room and his bright eyes remind you of Taehyung. Or is it just an illusion of your brain making everything seem like nothing has changed? But everything has, one way or another.

“Hello, I’m The Girl or so Hoseok says,” you wave towards the guy with boyish features and an eye smile that makes his irises disappear completely as Namjoon leaves your side.

“Aaah sorry about that. You were kinda like The One Who Cannot Be Named until you said yes to the mission. I’m Jimin, the new point man,” he introduces himself and offers a hand that you take without hesitation.

“So I’ve heard,” you nod towards him and it does feel nice being so welcomed. You were a bit worried – although you would have never admitted – that a different team will make the situation more awkward than it already is. Luckily that doesn’t seem to be the case at all.

“You can pack out and rest a little, we will go through the plan in the evening,” Yoongi carelessly throws a room key your way and you catch it out of reflex (old habits die hard). For a moment both of you are taken aback and quiet but then he looks away again, grabbing his own suitcase and disappears in a room.

You appreciate that he got a separate room for you even if it’s small and lonely. You might have shared a bed with him during your active years but things change and you need your own place now. Especially if it’s about him. Being in the same room already feels like something was prickling on your skin, like there’s a confession scratching your throat and hands itching to touch. So many old memories surface just to complicate the mission. You thought you moved on, that these four years was enough to forget and forgive but oh, how could you forget the one who made you believe love was real and present? You found a family within this team but it all fell apart when the nightmares turned into reality.

“It was really nice to meet you, guys. See you soon,” you wave them goodbye a bit awkwardly and when you’re out of the room and the close proximity of Yoongi after the almost day-long journey, you feel like you can finally breathe and the tension in your shoulders melts away. It’s not his fault, you know very well, it’s you who’s wary of everything you do or say afraid of shattering the newfound trust between you. You should talk about it, the past, that’s obvious because it’s a huge scarecrow in the field of your feelings and you can’t walk past it without mentioning. But fear is holding you back. No wonder why you asked him to look past what happened but… is that what holds him back too? Or is he afraid like you?

You have never put a label on what you were. It felt so obvious, so natural, no need to stress over it. You were co-workers by day and lovers by night but this uncertainty of not knowing where exactly you stood, behind the meaning of I love yous, it made it too easy to fled when things got bad. You left and he let you leave and you thought that said enough (apparently it didn’t). Was he angry? Was he worried? Was he waiting for your call like you foolishly were hoping for his? But no, what you had wasn’t fought for, it was left out to bleed in shreds. But it wasn’t what made being near him painful, it was his nonchalance, that he doesn’t seem affected at all.

You take a quick shower, pack out the few necessary items you bought and check on your social media while trying to empty your mind. You still can’t believe that you’re halfway across the world about to go on a mission with your ex and face Jungkook. You shouldn’t because you should stay neutral and objective but you hope that he wasn’t the one who brought the doom. Why would he have done that? But you couldn’t deny that he did act weirdly in those last weeks before the mission if you think about it. He was distant and distracted. But what could suddenly make Yoongi think that all of it was his fault?

Letting out a deep sigh you look at the clock, it’s already past 10pm. Jetlag really took its toll on you and you aren’t sure what exactly Yoongi meant by 'in the evening’. You hope you aren’t too late, so you grab your room key and go back to the guys’ on the other side of the corridor. Namjoon lets you in with a soft smile.

“I’m here,” you declare the obvious when you catch a glance of Yoongi in the living room. He beckons you closer.

“There. I set the table,” he points at all the documents and map parts scattered all over the place. The room is suddenly too quiet, even Namjoon disappeared somewhere. It leaves you with a weird kind of nervousness.

“Aren’t the others joining us?”

“They already know everything they need to know. It’s for you to catch up. We will have a team meeting before the actual action,” Yoongi explains hastily. He has always been like this, so caught up in his own mind that if you didn’t ask he skipped three steps of an explanation because it was obvious for him. Well, it has never been the same for you, you needed every detail.

He sits down in one of the fake leather covered chairs beside the table and with a languid gesture he prompts you to do the same. This time, you don’t protest.

“So Jungkook works for a video game company, so our first job is to find a place and time where we can get him alone and unsuspecting…” he starts off immediately as you take a seat but woah let’s not get that ahead of yourself.

“Sure but why do you think he won’t know what we are up to if he suddenly dreams about us? He knows us, he’s not an everyday target,” you remind Yoongi interrupting the speech at the very beginning. You don’t want to be a part of a plan that stands on weak legs, quivering at every step.

“That’s why we change our strategy and instead of doing the usual business we get involved in reality, too. And instead of making him think it’s real, we want him to know it’s a dream. At least the regular kind.”

“What do you mean by getting involved in reality too?” You lean closer curious to see what he’s suddenly typing on the tablet. It’s a bunch of dates, a calendar, you realize, probably Jungkook’s schedule.

Yoongi looks up and locks eyes with you over the device. You see your own miniature in his dark eyes illuminated by the artificial light. It takes your breath away for a moment.

“We will meet him. Well, to be specific, you will…” he says but his voice is drown by another.

“Are they together?” Jimin whisper-yells while pointing at you and Yoongi from the kitchen next to the room. He doesn’t even try to be discreet about it but you just roll your eyes and turn back to your ex. It’s Namjoon who answers eventually:

“Not anymore,” he sighs heavily and you know why. He was the one who introduced you, after all. He has seen you at your best and at your worst too, from the beginning to falling apart.

“So you were saying…” you focus on the on-going conversation again, at least you try your best to get through it without being too distracted.

“If you can come up with a believable reason for you to be in China, he will never suspect you. So we just have to give him a reason to dream about us: we find him and set up a meeting between the two of you. He would never hurt you,” Yoongi goes more in detail but he talks like it was a known fact, an axioma but you have no idea how he can be so sure.

“If your suspicion is right, Seokjin probably died because of him. We thought that wouldn’t happen either,” you mumble under your breath, a bit of censoriousness tinting your tone. The corners of his mouth twitch as if he found it laughable but on a bittersweet note.

“Right but he had always got those puppy eyes for you.”

A moment of sheer silence passes.

“You knew?” you gape at him absolutely dumbfounded. How could you not realize that it wasn’t only you who was aware of those looks? Yoongi has always been a better observer than you.

“What? That he has always been helplessly in love with you? Of course I knew,” he scoffs looking away.

It was kind of obvious, Jungkook and his innocent little crush on you. You were with Yoongi back then, so you didn’t even consider the possibility of you two together no matter how nice he was.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Should I have?” Yoongi quirks a brow as if saying: you didn’t leave me for him so why would I have? “I trusted you. I trust you still.”

It stabs you in the chest, just above the heart, threatening to carve it out and dip it into the poison made for the untrustworthy. You know he didn’t mean it like that, but you still feel that echoing pang deep inside.

You look down, suddenly ashamed because you knew that despite everything Yoongi didn’t deserve to be left alone when grieving. But now he only cares about one thing:

“Do you trust me?” he nudges your hand flattened on the table’s surface which makes you look him straight in the eye. Those coffee dark orbs hold mysteries like they always did and so many shared memories that make you blush.

But do you trust him enough to play against the rules by his side again?

“Yeah,” you whisper. You’re here after all, aren’t you?

Yoongi nods, shoulders getting slump because of relief and he continues with the explanation. Jimin and Hoseok, the ones he doesn’t know, are doing the background check on Jungkook. He will less likely be able to recognize them in dreams too.

“They have been on him for a while now. He goes to work everyday from 9 to 5. After that he often goes to the gym or to have a drink with colleagues. Other than that he doesn’t really goes out,” he presents the basics.

“Still we need a time when he’s alone, so I can 'accidentally’ run into him. He knows that I’m not the type who goes to the gym, so a bar would be more realistic.”

“He actually has a meeting at a hotel’s bar next Friday. We can get you a room there making it look like you’re on a business trip here.”

“That could work, I think,” you nod pursing your lips. That’s what Yoongi has always been good at: planning. You couldn’t really argue with him on that.

“Then we decided on it, I guess. You will run into him then offer to get some drinks together, so you can put the sedate into his drink without him noticing. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” you reply almost too quickly but both of you know that unlike him you’re a great actor. Jungkook will be too charmed to be suspicious anyway.

“If you’ll act oblivious when it kicks in, I don’t think he would doubt you. He will probably think he drank too much and when he’s out we take him,” Yoongi concludes and from then the job is easy, like any other. You all join the dream leaving only Hoseok behind to keep an eye on your sleeping bodies. But for the first time, you won’t be playing a role in the first dream-level or will you?

“Sounds like a plan,” you smile slyly and for the first time since you’re here, you’re actually excited. Dumbfounded you realize that you have missed the adrenaline rush of these missions. And with it comes the frightening truth belatedly but you have missed this boy too with ice in his eyes and fire in his soul.

The week passes slowly and uneventful. At least on your part because you have nothing better to do – while Jimin and Hoseok keep an eye on Jungkook – but to look up old pictures of Jin from those times when the incident happened. Everything, every colour of the clothes has to match or else Jungkook will know it’s not an ordinary dream. You feel a bit bad for interpersonating Jin of all people, you have never did this with anyone whom you knew that well. It’s easy in a way, you remember his little habits, his mimics and the way he talked but at the same time all this nostalgia saddens you. You miss him more than ever and even though he would never get angry at you for such thing, you can’t help but feel a knot in your stomach.

Forging has come naturally to you when you joined this business. You never had such wild imagination to alter the outer world with all its details as much as Yoongi or Jungkook could but changing yourself? It was easy as first grade math. You have always liked changing your exterior be it for Halloween parties or just a different hairstyle, so actually doing this in a world where physical rules could be bent was like a game to you. You have enjoyed it way too much for you to admit it now. You both have. Your love for the dreams was the first thing you shared with Yoongi, so it was almost inevitable for it to be your downfall, too. You can only hope you won’t regret this one last action.

The night before the real mission starts you can’t sleep. You keep turning in your bed but eventually you give up and just stare at the dark ceiling. You try to get soaked in the feeling of reality because from tomorrow you will spend almost a week (if you’re lucky) in a dream that only lasts for an hour in reality. When you’re down there for this long, it’s easy to forget which world is fake, so you grab on your necklace on instinct and sigh relieved at the cold touch of metal.

The flashing light of your phone comes unexpected as a notification pops up so late at night but you turn to unlock the device immediately just to see Yoongi’s text in the group chat reminding you all not forget to pack everything in the motel room as if you have never been there before you leave. You wait a minute, then two but nobody besides you reads the message, they are all probably asleep. Except you and Yoongi.

You don’t know why, maybe it’s nostalgia, a sweet reminder of old habits but you get out of your bed and putting a too long-sleeved sweater over your nightgown you leave your motel room only to knock on the boys’. You don’t have to wait long for Yoongi to open the door for you and even though you knew what exactly you signed up for, your breath still hitches seeing him in his flannel PJs. Suddenly the whole situation feels absurdly intimate.

“Hey, can’t sleep?” he archs a brow stepping aside to leave you more place to go inside. Barefoot on the cold hallway you don’t even hesitate to step in.

“Yeah. You know I have always had troubles sleeping before missions,” you remind him matter-of-factly in case he forgot. You wouldn’t blame him, it has been years and maybe he isn’t that hung up on the past like you.

But then he nods understanding and adds without hesitation: “I will heat you a glass of milk.”

You’re so surprised you can’t even protest before Yoongi disappears in the kitchen. You open your mouth and then close it still taken aback that your ex-boyfriend remembers this little habit of yours. Warm milk has always calmed down your anxious heart.

You shake your head slightly trying to get rid off your messy thoughts. By the time you make it to the kitchen with your regained composure, he already takes the drink out of the microwave and holds it out for you.

“Thanks,” you murmur taking the warm mug from Yoongi’s hands. He looks at you so gently, so heavy with feelings you can’t help the sudden need for a deep breath. You can’t let yourself lose in it, you can’t let yourself think why you suddenly don’t know Yoongi anymore as well as you used to.

“Are the dream maps ready?” you clear your throat.

“Yeah. Do you wanna see?” he asks without thinking just like he used to and it reminds you all those times he asked: wanna share