Chuckling softly when you looked up at the place your feet had carried you to, you walked up the short set of stairs to the front door and went inside.

You hadn’t meant to come here, of all places, but it wouldn’t be your first time studying within these walls. Still, you had a lot to do, and there was no time to head off elsewhere.

You had to admit, you felt at home here.

“Well, hello again!” the clerk behind the counter exclaimed happily, and you beamed a smile at her.

“You look fetching, as always, Polly.”

Glancing down at her flapper-styled dress, Polly then shrugged. “I’ve worn better and worse here. Are you coming to the party later?”

“Party?” you echoed, glancing up at the board of events behind her. You laughed and shook your head. “Oh, I don’t have a need to celebrate Valentine’s Day.”

“You don’t have to have a need, Y/N. But I see your bag is full. The study halls on campus too crowded today?”

“I guess now I know what all the noise was about,” you admitted sheepishly, and pointed to the closest hallway of the manor house. “Is the library free from the party?”

“What soiree would we hold in there?” she teased, and you rolled your eyes, thinking of countless wonderful opportunities that could be hosted within there.

The library was your favourite place within the estate house, after all.

“I’ll see you later, Polly. The Medieval era awaits me.”

“Not within this place, it wasn’t built until the fifteenth century!”

You laughed as you waved the woman off, greeting a few of the other paid actors as you walked down the familiar hallway to the room at the far left. You could hear all the fuss happening in the grand salon as you passed on by, a pink balloon escaping the room in the process.

You giggled. “When were balloons created?”

“The first attempt was in eighteen twenty-four, so they’re rightfully placed today,” a voice answered, and you turned, grinning at the woman in a lavish bell-shaped dress that seemed to take up more than half the walking space in this corridor.

“You know everything, Marguerite.”

“Not everything. But I do seem to know an awful lot,” she confessed, giggling with you as you both entered the library.

Glancing at your casual attire, she frowned. “You’re not dressed up.”

“I’m not a paid actor here at the estate,” you responded with a small smirk, propping your book bag next to the desk. You placed your hands upon the dark wooden desktop and sighed happily. “I came here for this desk, not for any party.”

“You and this desk,” she griped, shaking her head so much that the ornate wig she had chosen to wear almost toppled off the pins she had used to secure it. Holding her hair, she then smiled at you. “We welcome you every time.”

“I’m grateful, truly.”

“What are we studying today? The French Revolution?”

“Medieval Crusaders,” you corrected, and she scrunched up her nose. “Hey! History comes in many forms, Marguerite.”

“Perhaps you can be a mastermind behind a medieval love story for a play held in the theatre room later this year.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m a trained historian, not a writer.”

“Then you can co-direct with your facts and I with my interest in scriptwriting.”

“Perhaps, I could.”

“We’re expecting a lot of visitors today. I put an advert in the paper,” she mentioned as you sat down at the desk and pulled out your belongings. You smiled up at the owner of the estate and nodded as she continued to talk to you about the vast Valentine’s Day plans.

You supposed a place like this needed to get in on all the holidays to bring in patrons outside of the usual curious folk.

It was because of Halloween two years prior that you had stepped into the Bulbury Estate, to begin with. It wasn’t like all museums. Sure, each room was dedicated to some era of history, ranging from the fifteenth century to the nineteen-fifties. However, it was a living environment, and hardly a single mannequin was used. Instead, Marguerite had a small team of historical actors who helped her bring the past to life every day here during the tours.

You found the library on that first night here, the party being held in the grand salon nearby. You had gotten over the noise and opted for someplace quiet. The library door had opened right when you went to enter, and you had shrieked, especially when the man before you looked as if he came from the past himself.

“Y/N?”

Blinking out of your fond memories of the place, you looked up at Marguerite curiously. “Do mind the spirits for me in here as best as you can.”

“Oh, but of course. They are welcome to stay and keep me company as long as they’re quiet.”

Marguerite was naturally quirky. However, her biggest obsession, aside from wearing the most flamboyant of vintage outfits, was the spirits. You hadn’t actually met one yet, but you humoured the woman every time. She was invested in these spirits to the point she talked of them on a first-name basis quite often. They had guided her to buy the run-down estate ten years ago, so she said, and with a of luck, she struck gold – literally – in the backyard and was able to pay for the repairs to be done quite quickly. Since then, she was adamant they ruled the house, and she merely managed it on their behalf.

“I worry about Thomas and Bertha causing trouble today. It is their favourite holiday of the year.”

“Then I hope they can enjoy some quiet time in here with me,” you offered with a grin, gesturing to the vintage armchairs in the room.

“I shall tell them so,” Marguerite announced with a clap of her hands and then a gasp left her. “Oh, dear! I left Joseph unattended in the salon. Who knows what that child has done to the decorations already!”

You didn’t know if Joseph was a spirit or living person, but you ushered the suddenly frazzled woman off and then sat down at the desk. Pulling out a thick textbook about the crusades, you picked up your pen and began to scribble down notes as you read. Aside from the murmur of noise that reached the library from the festivities of the day, you were alone for some time.

Until the door suddenly opened.

Glancing up immediately, you couldn’t control the smile that formed on your lips.

Nor could Jinyoung. “You know, we really need to stop meeting in this room.”

“Granted, it’s the one you’ll most likely find me in every time. But I happen to agree.”

Closing the door behind him, Jinyoung came to your side and peered over your shoulder at your studies. He placed a hand upon the table to balance himself, and you began to inspect the muscles in his exposed forearm until he cleared his throat.

“Your essay topic sounds interesting.”

“I’m enjoying it.”

Jinyoung laughed. “I think you’re the only person I’ve ever met to say they enjoy their essays.”

“Then why study in the first place if you don’t enjoy it?” you wondered and Jinyoung pointed at you.

“You’re not like the rest.”

“I don’t intend to be.”

Sharing another smile, you then turned your focus back to the books jarringly. “I suppose I better…”

“Yes, and if Marguerite finds me not in the Victorian kitchen talking to guests in ten minutes, I guess she’ll fire me.”

“Your Aunt isn’t that cruel,” you told him, and Jinyoung shrugged playfully.

“Maybe if I play hooky with you, her favourite visitor, she won’t mind.”

“I’m hardly her favourite. I’m certain that’s Bertha and Thomas.”

Jinyoung shook his head. “Not you too. The spirits aren’t real. She uses that as a tactic to look kooky to her patrons. It keeps people coming back for more of her stories.”

“You and I both know they’re real,” you countered, gesturing to the portrait of the married couple on the walls. “You’re insulting them by dismissing their existence.”

Jinyoung walked back to your side and leaned down towards you. “Have you seen one of them yet?”

“No, but-”

“Have you experienced anything spooky here at the estate?”

“The door suddenly flying open on the first night I was here.”

Jinyoung stood back up and folded his arms over his chest. “You opened it, stop denying it.”

“I did not! You did!”

“We can argue about this all day but--”

The static sound of the walkie-talkie device in Jinyoung’s pocket interrupted the heated debate and he groaned, pulling it out and spoke into it. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

“Duty calls. Who are you playing today?”

“Henry, the servant boy who wants to learn how to cook,” he announced, flicking his suspenders lightly over the linen shirt under it. “And a servant I shall be since Emma is playing Lady Crocrombe. See you around, Y/N.”

You were slightly disappointed to see the back of Jinyoung. From the first night on Halloween until now, he was part of the reason you liked coming here. It was unintentional that you arrived on the estate’s doorstep this morning, but you couldn’t deny your hope once you walked through the front doors that Jinyoung would also be working today.

Your feelings for him made you feel warm and giddy.

However, he didn’t get far. Yanking on the door handle several times, he glanced back at you hopelessly. Getting up, you approached him and the stuck door. “It can’t be locked, can it?”

“Nonsense, who would lock a door here?”

“Move aside, let me.”

“Not to sound egotistical, but if I can’t open it, how will you?” he grunted, and you shoved him aside then, placing your hands on the handle and gave it a firm yank.

It didn’t budge.

“We’re locked in. Call for assistance,” you instructed logically, and Jinyoung nodded, fishing out his walkie-talkie. It didn’t seem to connect to anything, the static sounding different this time. You reached into your pocket for your phone, but suddenly there was no signal.

You both stared at one another, perplexed.

Then the phone began to ring. Not the one in your hand, but the old vintage one sat upon the desk. You slowly turned your head to look at it and followed Jinyoung’s cautious steps across the room to it. “I thought that was a prop.”

“It is. What would it be connected to?” Jinyoung murmured, staring at the phone handle before he inhaled a deep breath and answered it. “Hello?”

You couldn’t hear who was on the receiving end. However, Jinyoung visibly relaxed and started to explain what was going on. After a moment, you realised it was Marguerite talking to him, and cast your eyes across the room whilst you waited for the instruction of what to do next.

You had visited this room more than fifty times, and whilst you were certain you couldn’t remember every book title on the bookshelves that lined the walls, you had looked at them often enough to be familiar with the shapes and colours in the very least. One seemed to stand out to you all of a sudden, and you walked over to the black spine, tilting your head to the side to read the gilded title along it.

You heard Jinyoung hang up the phone, and blindly gestured for him to join you. “Have you seen this book here before?”

“Book?” he repeated, coming over. “Which book?”

“This black one. Tales of The Bulbury Valentine.”

“Never heard of it,” he said, peering over your shoulder again. You were surprised by how close he was to you, and your heart fluttering felt nice. You were slightly dejected when he shifted to your side. “Marguerite mentioned she’s tied up with an influx of visitors so she’ll let us out when she can.”

“Right. Well, that sounds fair.”

“I didn’t know that phone worked. Bizarre, don’t you think?” he continued, and you nodded, your fingers reaching to touch the spine of the book.

“Completely.”

“You’re not fully aware of what I’m saying, are you, Y/N? Just pull the book out if it’s got your attention.”

“I’m not one for Valentine’s Day stories, Jinyoung.”

“Why? Hasn’t Cupid ever shot an arrow your way?” he teased, and you groaned loudly, letting go of the book.

“I’m sure he’s shot many at you. Or at all the women around you.”

“Why do you say that?” he questioned, wriggling his eyebrows and smirking when you didn’t answer right away. He stepped in closer again, and you were certain he knew that he made your heart play up whenever he was near you. “Maybe he should have shot you then too.”

“Don’t be daft. Cupid is a folklore at the best of things.”

“Says the historian. Surely, you should know something about Valentine’s Day.”

“Lupercalia.”

“What?” Jinyoung asked, blinking frequently.

“They say it was the Lupercalia ritual in Roman times that started the ancient version of Valentine’s Day.”

“Huh.”

“Lupercalia was a fertility pagan festival to bring in the start of spring and growth. Saint Valentine has been written in the bible and has several ancient merits as well.” Looking at Jinyoung’s bemused expression, you sighed. “So, I know a little about the tradition. It comes with studying mythology in my first year.”

“So, what happens?”

“What do you mean?”

Jinyoung folded his arms across his chest again. “To Valentine’s Day. When did it become a gimmick?”

“I wouldn’t call it a gimmick, Jinyoung.”

“You just said you don’t do Valentine’s Day stories. Do you still believe in the romance of it all?”

“I don’t know what I believe in, but I do know that the history of it becoming what it has is pretty interesting.”

“So pull out the book. You like history, shouldn’t we learn more together?”

“I’m supposed to be working on my essay,” you mentioned, looking over at your discarded study and then back at the book. You grinned at Jinyoung. “I suppose a short look won’t hurt us.”

Reaching again for the spine of the book, you pulled it out from the shelf and opened the cover.

There was only one thing inside. “A key?”

“It’s not a book?” Jinyoung questioned, lording over you to stare at the puzzle before you. Sharing a look, Jinyoung then reached for the key and pulled it out from the book. “Where do you go?”

Looking at the gap in the shelf, you noticed you could see light shining through. “There! The lock is in the bookshelf.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jinyoung breathed, sharing another glance with you before slipping in the key. You heard the lock click and a section of the bookcase swung into a secret room.

You both peered inside, trying to decipher if it was safe to step in. “Does Marguerite know of this secret room?”

“Probably. Maybe not. My Aunt is hard to keep up with.”

“We shouldn’t go inside it then.”

“Logically, no. But aren’t you curious, even just a little?” Jinyoung asked, and you nodded swiftly, taking his hand that he held out to you without any further thought.

You were surprised by how warm he was.

“Let’s leave the door open so we can come back, okay?” you suggested, following Jinyoung into the dusty room.

“Or this could be a horror film in the making, and it creakily shuts behind us,” he mentioned, and you squealed when as soon as you were both inside, it did just that.

Gripping onto Jinyoung tightly, you then thumped him with your spare hand. “Now, what do we do?!”

“You begin to fall together,” a hushed little voice mentioned in the dark, and before you could shriek at the statement, you began to descend at a fast pace through, well, you couldn’t really tell.

Was it time? Realms? You weren’t able to decipher anything apart from it felt as if your falling was endless and Jinyoung’s hand was growing harder to grip onto.

You could barely see him now, but the way he tried to grapple onto your hand made you realise he didn’t want to lose you either.

Eventually, you did, and as soon as you could no longer see him, you fell with a thud onto something soft.

Springy.

Bedding?

Opening your eyes, you then blinked several times. It was day time again, and you thanked the light for greeting your eyes as they strained to take in your surroundings. You were certain this was still the manor house, but not of the present time. Sitting up in the bed, you realised you were up in a bedroom in the west wing.

“It still looks the same,” you breathed, noticing how well Marguerite had done with restoring it. It was as if she had been to the past herself and knew exactly where to place each bit of furniture.

“That makes zero sense,” you chided yourself, though after blinking some more, nor did the notion in your head about this being the past.

“Marguerite!” you called out, and jumped when the door opened, Jinyoung’s aunt dashing into the room.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Lady—what do you mean?” you asked her and took in her outfit. It was the plainest thing you’d ever seen her wear before. You started to laugh. “You, a servant?!”

“Did you fall ill overnight? Shall I fetch a doctor?! Oh, the Mistress won’t be happy to hear of this at all! I was told to check for any and all chills before your wedding day, and I was certain I caught them all!”

“Mistress? Wedding day? Marguerite, you are talking nonsense. And you look entirely plain.”

You stopped for a moment, frowning at how your accent and word choice sounded different. Older, in fact.

You really needed to stop reading so many regency au stories.

“This is always how I look, My Lady.”

“No, you wear the most flamboyant of outfits. Lace upon textured fabrics and lush petticoats!”

Marguerite started to bounce on the spot, growing increasingly frazzled. “Oh my! You have caught a chill!”

And before you could answer, she dashed out the door and shut it behind her.

“What on earth just happened?” you asked yourself, pulling back the blankets and walking barefoot across the wooden floors to the mirror by the wall.

As you caught glimpse of yourself, you were relieved to find your appearance was still the same. You weren’t anyone else and wondered if you had fallen in the secret room and hit your head and were now concussed.

Pinching yourself, you whined when it hurt to do so.

“I’m not dreaming.”

Pacing across the floor in your nightgown, you raised a hand to your mouth in thought. “Marguerite is acting weird and called me by a lady of status. But she’s the one who owns this place, so why is she dressed as a lady’s maid?”

“Where is Jinyoung?” you asked next, and jumped when the door opened.

You were met with familiar eyes that rounded upon seeing you and then diverted to the walls at the somewhat sheerness of your clothing.

“My Lady, you shouldn’t be out of bed if the chill has caught you! Doctor Park, please forgive her lack of modesty.”

“Uh, er, right,” Jinyoung managed, peeking another look in your direction. You gave him a pointed look back, and his eyes went straight to the ceiling again.

“I’m perfectly fine, Marguerite. It is you who is acting peculiar.”

“Back to bed, My Lady, so the physician can check if your health is quite alright. Your marriage to Lord Maynes is this afternoon, and we must ensure we are sending him a healthy daughter of the manor.”

“I suppose my sister Caroline could step in if I’m not able to,” you offered and then frowned at the name.

Who was Caroline?

“I’ll check Miss Y/N over now if you don’t mind,” Jinyoung gruffly stated as soon as you were back under the blankets. Staring at you momentarily, Jinyoung smiled weakly before directing his next instructions to Marguerite. “I’ll need some water.”

“Of course,” she said, going over to the basin in your bedroom.

“Not that water!” he cried, and Marguerite’s hands shook with surprise. “I uh, will need it fresh from the well.”

“Is that truly necessary?”

“Yes. If a wedding is to go ahead, then it must be at its freshest.”

Marguerite nodded resolutely and dashed out of the room, leaving you both alone. You stared at Jinyoung, hoping he had some answers. He merely shrugged. “When I woke up, I was in a small house, and Polly called me her brother.”

“Polly’s here too? Do you think this is all staged then?”

Jinyoung stared at you. “I said, I woke up in a small house. Not here.”

“So you saw the outside world. Is it modern or-”

“Are you really asking me when we look like this, and you’re dressed in something my great grandmother would wear?”

“It’s rather comfy,” you admitted, and Jinyoung couldn’t contain his chuckle.

“I wasn’t quite expecting to see you in so little just yet.”

“Yet?” you echoed, but he gave you no answer, fishing in his leather bag and looking at all the instruments he pulled out. You shook your head. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“I know that, but given how strange you normally are, and no doubt how you acted upon seeing my Aunt, they’re all convinced you’ve caught something terrible, and the wedding won’t go ahead. From what I’ve gathered, you’re to marry some Lord who will help with the prosperity of the village.”

“Thomas?” you offered and then shook your head. “No Thomas was a…”

“A what, Y/N?” Jinyoung prompted when you trailed off.

Paled, you didn’t blink as you stared at Jinyoung. “A doctor.”

“Bertha was the second eldest daughter of this house. Caroline was barely fifteen when her sister was meant to be married off,” Jinyoung added on, and you stared at him with interest. He coughed awkwardly. “So maybe I’ve been around when my Aunt talks her nonsense a few times.”

“I’m Bertha, and you’re Thomas?”

“And this is a nightmare. What do we do to escape it?”

“Well, what did they do?” you enquired, finding no answer immediately.

Jinyoung got up and went to the window. “Marguerite is finally at the well now.”

“Can’t you say I’m terribly ill?”

“That would ruin the family.”

“Bertha did that by leaving Lord Maynes for Thomas, no doubt,” you airily offered, and Jinyoung spun around, nodding as he returned to your side.

“She married Thomas.”

“Yes, I know of that,” you snapped, the light bulb that had gone off in Jinyoung’s head finally lighting up in yours. “She didn’t marry today.”

“Nor will you. Get dressed now!”

With some effort, you managed to get into a simple empire styled dress, donning a light coat Jinyoung found for you in the wardrobe before taking his hand. Hastily putting on shoes without anything under them, you allowed Jinyoung to take your hand again.

He began to pull you towards the door you came through, but you stopped, looking at the panel in the wall of your room. “This way.”

“There’s no other exit.”

“I’m Bertha right now. This is my room, and I trust my instinct,” you announced, tugging him over to the panel and pushing on it. A tiny corridor appeared, and Jinyoung gave you little time to admire it, shoving you inside and shutting the panel behind him.

You let out a triumphant giggle on being right.

It was arduous in places to navigate, but the secret hallway led to a set of stairs that wound around the house until you spotted a trapdoor. Unlatching it, you then crawled outside, brushing the dirt off your skirt as you waited for Jinyoung to climb out.

He grinned at you. “We’re so looking for this when we’re back.”

“For now, we need to get away so let’s worry about trapdoors and hidden staircases when we’re not escaping, shall we?”

“You’re sassier than I expected.”

You looked at the man who reached for your hand effortlessly and started to run with him across the back of the garden towards the woods. “You hardly know me.”

“That’s not true. I know some about you.”

“That I am history mad and would rather come to your Aunt’s manor museum than spend time in modern places? That’s probably all.”

“You have the most interesting colour of eye too,” he confessed, and you stared at his side profile then, watching his ears turn pink from the admission.

“I’m not sure what made me swoon more then. The fact that you noticed something about me or the way you worded it.”

Jinyoung recovered, thanks to your sentence, and grinned at you. “The fact you swooned is enough for me.”

“Alright, Doctor, it’s on you now. Where did Thomas take Bertha?”

---

 

Staring at the small cabin deep in the woods, you were stunned. Jinyoung, equally amazed by the discovery, let out a small whoop of excitement. “It actually is here!”

“You saw it in your head?”

“Vaguely. He directed us here.” Jinyoung opened the door and let you inside. You sat down with a whine, looking down at your ankles that had been rubbed raw from your travels without any socks on.

Jinyoung cleared his throat as he crouched down in front of you, removing one of your shoes before looking up at you. “Do you reckon they were the ones who guided us to this strange world?”

“Maybe they were annoyed with you for not believing they exist.”

“You pointed out that I knew they did.”

“But as spirits,” you corrected, and Jinyoung sighed. You hissed when he pulled off your other shoe, your heel worse on this side.

“It’s a good thing I’m a doctor.”

Unable to hide your amusement, you laughed gently until Jinyoung began to treat the wounds. He did an excellent job with the tools he had, and you wondered if he was just that capable or if Thomas had guided him with this as well.

Jinyoung grinned up at you once he was done. “Better?”

“Much. Thank you.”

There was comfortable silence as you both took in the cabin. There were the basic amenities. A cooking area was nestled next to the open fireplace, and there were two armchairs, one that you were seated upon, facing it.

A small dining table with two chairs and a modest bed filled the rest of the space.

It would do.

However, you would need to work hard for it too.

“There’s little food stored here,” you mentioned once back on your feet and exploring the place.

Jinyoung had just come back inside. “There’s an outside toilet, though it’s not great. But what’s worse is there’s no real firewood. It bet it gets cold around here, so we better gather some wood.”

“How do we go about getting food?” you wondered, and Jinyoung gave you a grim look. You nodded. “Well, I guess we have a lot of adjusting to do.”

By nightfall, you were both exhausted. You had helped drag bits of a fallen tree from the forest surrounding you for Jinyoung to chop up and stacked it inside and by the wall of the cabin for subsequent days.

By luck, you found a chicken coop out back and even better was Jinyoung’s cooking skills as he boiled the bird over the fireplace for dinner. You had managed to uproot some vegetables from a tiny garden and dinner was enough to fill your stomachs.

After some time spent quietly around the fireplace, one too many yawns had sent you both over to the bed.

Jinyoung shook his head. “We’re doing this out of necessity.”

“Neither of us will get any sleep on an armchair.”

“Absolutely not.”

“And we’re adults. Sharing a bed will be fine.”

“It’s a small bed, but we’ll make do,” Jinyoung concluded nervously, and you nodded equally as awkward, before both climbing under the blankets and laying beside one another.

You were stiff for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling. Chancing a glance at Jinyoung, you were surprised to find him watching you. It didn’t make you flinch, rather you smiled. “Do you think Thomas and Bertha loved each other before today?”

“No,” Jinyoung stated, rolling onto his side, so he was fully facing you. You mirrored his actions and propped your head up with your elbow. “I think he was just a friend.”

“Maybe they liked each other a little. I mean, he risked a lot by taking her away from the house on her wedding day.”

“She wanted to escape, what should he have done? Told her no? Left her to an ill-fated match? I can understand why he helped her escape. No one should marry another without love involved.”

You smiled lazily. “You’re quite the romantic, Doctor Park.”

“Please, just call me Jinyoung, My Lady.”

You giggled. “I’m hardly a lady of status.”

“I don’t know, you suit the role,” he said, and you watched him for a moment more.

“Maybe that’s why I come to the manor.”

“Because you’re Bertha in the present day?”

“Do you have a PhD in anything?” you asked tauntingly, and Jinyoung laughed, shaking his head. “We’re just two normal people, really. So were they.”

“Who fell in love,” Jinyoung breathed out, staring at you intensely.

With the humour now gone, you felt your breathing change, growing restricted with all the flutters in your chest. Jinyoung seemed to wrestle with a similar reaction and then cleared his throat loudly, swapping to laying on his back again.

The moment now lost, you awkwardly wished each other a good night’s rest and eventually drifted off to sleep.

---

 

You had hoped when you woke up that it would be in the library of the manor where you had last been. However, finding yourself nestled into Jinyoung’s warm side wasn’t all that bad. If you had to be stuck in the 1880s, you couldn’t hope for a better person to be with.

Jinyoung stirred awake shortly after you, and after marvelling his bed hair and him pointing out your own, you both got to work.

Day in and out was much the same. You cultivated what you had, you cleaned and collected wood together, and you even got used to fending off the earth for food to cook each night. He would improve your home little by little, and you became skilled in sewing new coverings or mending clothes along the way.

It brought you both closer to one another, and for a while there, you almost forgot the tally of days Jinyoung had been counting of your stay. It felt comfortable being with him each day and night.

However, when Jinyoung pulled you over to where he had been marking down your stay, you gasped. “It’s been a hundred days already?!”

“Do you think Bertha and Thomas trapped us in this world so they can live as us in the present?” Jinyoung mentioned bitterly, and you shrugged, slumping down into an armchair in shock. He approached you soon after and crouched at your side. “Not to say I’m not enjoying your company. I am. I do. But I kind of would like to go home. I’ll praise my microwave and ready-to-eat foods so much once I’m back.”

“And a flushing toilet,” you offered with a laugh. “Oh, and a shower. Gosh, I miss a good shower.”

“Is the lake nearby not doing it for you, huh?” he asked mischievously, and you pushed his arm off the side of the chair playfully.

“It’s sufficient.”

“You don’t take your undergarments off.”

“I’m washing them too as I wash myself,” you objected, your cheeks flushing with the thought of how easily Jinyoung took his shirt and pants off whenever you went to the lake. You didn’t watch him do it, of course, but you had seen his shoulders and chest, and that was enough to fulfil any desires you had for the man until the next lake visit.

Jinyoung chuckled. “You’re thinking sinfully right now.”

“You are too.”

He shrugged. “You don’t give me much to think like that over.”

“A lady shouldn’t bare herself unless it’s to her husband in these parts,” you stated dramatically, and Jinyoung didn’t laugh as you expected him to. Losing yourself in his gaze as he had already done with you, you instinctively moistened your lips.

You both had been dancing around the unspoken feelings for one another for quite some time now. Naturally, the more you bonded, the more you fell for Jinyoung. He was playful yet incredibly capable. He was there to help you when it was too much and had shouldered your tears whenever you had fits for home.

Even without this experience, you had crushed over him, but now it was beyond a crush.

You had fallen in love with him.

“Was this how it happened for them too?” Jinyoung whispered, and you knew what he meant right away.

“Perhaps,” you said back, your hand reaching out to hold his.

It had been your favourite thing to do all this time. No matter the time of day or night, reaching out to hold his hand made you feel connected, grounded even. Right now though, his touch held a charge that had built to a point that started to buzz throughout you.

It was then that Jinyoung captured your lips in his. The buzz turned into a rush, and you pulled him up to you from the ground, your lips not parting as he, in turn, tugged you from the chair. Now standing, your arms moved to stabilise your balance by hooking together around his neck, your body flush with his.

This kiss was yours alone.

Although you knew you were being guided by the past lovers, this moment was spurred on by your own feelings that had grown. You could taste the hunger, the passion upon his lips and feel it upon your skin as his hands took purchase of your hips, moving downward until he reached your thighs. Hoisting you up, you curled around Jinyoung, pulling back for another breath only to crash down upon his hot mouth once more, kissing him eagerly as he carried you both over to the bed.

Laying you down, he placed a knee between your legs and finally pulled back, his dark gaze washing over you lustfully. “What are we doing?”

“You know exactly what we’re doing, Jinyoung. Something long overdue between us.”

He groaned before leaning down to capture your mouth against his again, hands exploring, trying to undo one another’s clothing. It was easy enough to get his shirt and suspenders off, but your dress slowed Jinyoung down, and he grew impatient with it being in the way.

Sitting up and pushing him back, so you were now resting upon his thigh, you reached for the ties of your dress and loosened them off. Holding up your arms, Jinyoung swore under his breath, his palms pushing the fabric up and over your head.

Just your undergarments remained.

“A lady shouldn’t bare herself,” he reminded of your statement previously, and you smiled, still holding your arms above your head for him to take it off. “Not unless it’s to her husband.”

“Will you marry me then just to take it off?” you asked, and Jinyoung cursed once more at your direct approach. “I’m certain Bertha and Thomas weren’t married whilst they lived in these woods.”

“Are we playing them still right now?” Jinyoung asked, and you shook your head.

“In our lifetime, being intimate can happen regardless of being married or not.”

“In our lifetime, we also have protection,” he pointed out, the flames within his eyes dampening with the further logic he placed over the situation.

You didn’t want this to end here. You only wanted one thing, and that was to feel the culmination of your feelings for him, emotionally and physically. Kissing him with demand, Jinyoung’s resolve broke, his hands taking to the bottom of the fabric and only pulled away to get it over your head. Taking off his pants, he stopped and stared at you.

You finally were as bare as he was.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, and you nodded, resting your forehead against yours.

“I know. I am with you too.”

“I know,” he replied with a shared smile, capturing your lips and heart once more.

---

 

Two years or so had gone by since you found yourself in this strange world. You had stopped counting how long exactly it had been in this little oasis you shared with Jinyoung. You enjoyed the simple life at his side and the ecstasy that came with loving him during the nights. Somehow, you hadn’t fallen pregnant yet, and even though you had both taken vows last summer in a tiny church in another village, your marital life was childless.

You had to admit you were starting to feel as if your womb would forever remain barren.

Finding your menstrual cycle had arrived like clockwork once again disappointed you, and you wondered why.

“Perhaps it’s the environment,” Jinyoung mentioned, and you shook your head.

“I’m not going back to the township. Out here we can be whoever we want to be.”

“We can be that there as well. We’re married now. They can’t break what we vowed under the eyes of God apart.”

You remained against the idea until one morning someone from your household finally travelled this far into the woods to find you. Marguerite was relieved to see you alive and well, begging for you to return to the house. “They will forgive you of your betrayal, My Lady.”

“What of Caroline?”

Marguerite sighed. “She married the Lord in your stead. She’s rather happy now. She is with child again already.”

You swallowed difficultly, nodding once. “Again. Her second?”

“Third. She bore twins for the Lord.”

Jinyoung reached for your shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “And of Y/N’s parents?”

“They have entrusted the estate to you.”

“Not Caroline? Nor Abigail?”

Marguerite smiled. “It’s time to come home. Your father has fallen ill, and he wishes to see you before he leaves this earth.”

Leaving the cabin was painful. Your lives had been set up there, and yet, you were curious to see the manor again. As Marguerite had assured, your family welcomed you home with open arms, grateful to see you alive and well. Jinyoung was accepted as your husband and took over some of the affairs when your father in this world passed away. Your mother soon too joined him, and it was now your estate with Jinyoung.

But it didn’t quite feel like home.

“My Lady?”

Opening your eyes, you smiled weakly at Marguerite’s appearance. “I’m tired today.”

“You’ve rested enough now, don’t you think?”

“No, I feel I need more sleep.”

“Jinyoung is already on his way back.”

“Back where?” you asked groggily, and when you received no answer, you sat up immediately, noticing the room was now empty.

Getting out of bed, you found the floor beneath you gave way, and the same falling feeling you had experienced four years ago started again.

When you woke up this time, you were nestled in the library next to Jinyoung, your head upon his shoulder.

“Quite the adventure you two took today, huh?” a voice mentioned, picking up the book you held loosely and looked it over.

Blearily looking around yourself, you sat up, staring at Jinyoung when he reached out for your hand. Helping you to your feet, he then let you go. “I suppose Emma needs me in the kitchen.”

Once hastily excused, you stared at his Aunt for some time. Her expression felt knowing about the journey you just took. “It’s the same day?”

“What year did you think of it to be?”

“I just… that dream felt longer than a day. More like years.”

“I’m sure it was,” he answered with a smile, the glint in her eyes confirming your suspicions. “Thank you for looking after the spirits today. They always seem to be on the lookout to play matchmaker. It would have been a disaster if I let them loose on just anyone.”

You didn’t know what to say back, a small smile gracing your lips before you pointed to your things. “I uh, I better clean up.”

“Will you stay for the party, Y/N?”

“I’m rather tired,” you excused, and Marguerite laughed, nodding along.

“Yes, I suppose it was a long journey back too.”

She left you then, and you stared up at the portrait of the couple in the room, wondering just how long they had been watching over you.

And Jinyoung for that matter.

Not really knowing how to comprehend all that had happened, you gathered your books and belongings back into your bag and shouldered it.

It felt odd to be doing tasks you hadn’t done for four years.

Or a day. You couldn’t quite understand time right now.

Still, you took your time, going into the bathroom and rejoiced over hot water when you washed your hands, and then headed to the exit.

Instead of leaving, you turned for the grand staircase, taking yourself up to the bedroom in the west wing.

You marvelled at how identical it was. “Marguerite has been there more than once, I’m sure of it.”

“I think so,” Jinyoung announced, and you spun around, staring at the distance between you both. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t know what’s acceptable or not in this realm.”

“I guess we have to get adjusted to modern times again.”

“In this year we weren’t married,” she mentioned, stepping closer to you. “Not even dating.”

“No, we were almost strangers. A pair who fought over a door opening between them two years ago,” you announced with a grin, and Jinyoung chuckled.

“What if we both agree that Bertha and Thomas opened that door between us?”

“Then I think we’d have to agree that they also took us someplace today,” you answered, taking a step towards Jinyoung. He reached out for your waist, and you almost hummed with happiness.

It felt just as natural as it had before.

“And in that world, we fell in love.”

“Will we in this world?” you wondered as Jinyoung tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“It is Valentine’s Day still. Should I take you on our first date?”

“Was our first date back then when we chopped wood together?”

Jinyoung laughed and leaned down to brush his lips over yours. “I promise I have no need to chop wood in this lifetime.”

“You were awfully good at it, though.”

“So you did watch me.”

“Intently,” you divulged, slipping your hands up over his chest and resting them on his shoulders. “I’d like that date.”

“I’d like it too.”

“And then what happens after it?” you asked, chewing your lip with anticipation.

“Well, it’s our turn to tell the story. Thomas and Bertha have their world, but this is ours. Whatever happens next, we’ll have to write it down in our own book.”

“The Tale of Love: Then and Now,” you named it, and Jinyoung laughed, hugging you warmly.

“Whatever it’s called, so long as you remain close to my heart, I know I’ll live happily ever after.”