Work Text:
“Coffee again today, love?” Jin tsked at me as I dragged my still-tired body into the production area of the film set for the project we were both currently working on. “I thought you were giving it up.”
He eyed the tell-tale cup I had in one hand, ungloved and braving the crisp fall temperatures that had recently hit our area. I left my other hand curled in my coat pocket, warm and toasty despite the long walk across the lot from where my commute landed me, and instead of my typical wave, I opted for a cheeky grin to match the lop-sided smile he was still giving me.
“Ah, you should be proud,” I smiled, slowing as I passed him near the craft table he was setting up, raising the cup and giving it a little shake for show. “This is just hot cider!”
The odd little laugh he had burst up out of him, and I couldn't help but grin wider as I watched his dark eyes crinkle with it. “Well, we will see how long that lasts.”
“Mm, I suppose so,” I mock sighed, giggling a bit as I released my free hand from my pocket long enough to give him a wave after all, just as I rounded the corner and we left each other's sight.
He gets cuter every day, I sighed to myself, trying to ignore the flounce our interaction (brief, so very brief, I told myself) had put in my walk. He had been in an oversized cardigan today, a soft blue color, and it had been flirting with the idea of slipping down one broad shoulder as he moved trays from the serving carts to the craft table. Jin certainly wasn't the only cute person on set, even leaving the actors and actresses out of consideration. I supposed he came to mind more than the other startlingly good-looking staff, though, because we had the most interaction, nearly every morning (no matter how brief, I smugly argued with myself), and this wasn't our first time working together, either. He had been on two other projects I had worked on in the past, but this was the first time we had really found ourselves conversing despite having acknowledged one another from the get-go. While I had worked feverishly for years on building up a solid reputation as a professional makeup artist, I had been relatively new to this world, deciding to take the plunge and switch from private sessions, mostly special occasion work, to the entertainment industry, and it wasn't until this project that I had really started to feel settled in and like I had found my footing.
I was still half-smiling, caught up in my thoughts, and nearly tripped over myself as a melodic male voice called out to me softly. “No kit again today, miss?”
Startled and not recognizing the voice, I paused and looked around until my wide eyes met the dark-haired night guard's sharp gaze. I tilted my head as I considered him for a moment. I had only really seen him in passing a few times, mostly when he changed shifts with the day security guard I was more familiar with, Taehyung. This one was more quiet, but I had felt his eyes on me the few times I had passed him on set, and something about him seemed, I never knew quite how to put it, but 'silently intense' was the closest. He didn't quite unnerve me, and I wouldn't call it uncomfortable either, but he certainly invoked some sort of feeling in me, and I didn't really know what yet.
I realized I was still rudely staring at him openly, and without replying, and snapped to about the time he had relaxed out of his stance, stiffly upright, arms folded at his back, to tap at the plaque with his name and title on his chest. There was a hint of mirth in the set of his lips, and his eyes had softened as he regarded me. I was shocked to realize his ever-present stoicism seemed to have slipped away as well, and he was trying to not laugh at me.
“Jungkook,” he said softly, a little slowly, as if to make a point.
I blinked stupidly at him for a minute before a laugh, somewhat incredulous, bubbled up out of me. I had been right in my assessment – there were certainly more layers to him that what showed on that quiet, unrippled surface.
“I'm so sorry,” I offered as my free hand flew up to my mouth in embarrassment as I swallowed the rest of my nervous giggles. “It's early, and sadly, this isn't my typical coffee.” I raised my cup and jiggled it a little in the same motion I had used with Jin, as if it somehow magically told them what I was drinking. It made me feel a bit more stupid, and I lowered the cup quickly, clearing my throat. I tried to pretend I didn't notice when one corner of his mouth threatened to quirk up a bit higher.
“But no, no kit today either.” I couldn't keep my eyes from narrowing slightly as I focused back on him. I'd chosen my kit case carefully – nondescript, small enough for me to handle alone yet spacious enough for everything I would need to stuff in it, and most importantly, completely silent when it rolled. A lot of the time, it was overlooked despite its size, or mistaken for luggage. “It's quite heavy when it's fully loaded, and my commute isn't kind. I decided to be brave and try leaving it here overnight this week.” I paused, weighing if I should say what I was thinking, and decided to go ahead with it. “You're very observant.”
His full smile took me by surprise, all straight white teeth and a crinkle at the top of his nose, topped off with the threat of dimples. (Oh gods, please be kind to me, and don't let me be more of an idiot than I already have in front of this gorgeous man.) I could feel a full blush threatening to stain me red from head to toe, and did my best to swallow down the urge to keep staring like a starstruck tourist.
“It comes with the job,” he offered, voice still as cool and smooth as ever, but the laugh in it was painfully obvious to me.
I barely resisted face-palming myself right there in front of him. Despite silently attempting to will a hole in the floor to suddenly appear and devour me, I instead shook my head at myself and smiled back at him. “Naturally,” I laughed, and tapped one temple as if to emphasize my earlier words that implied I was still half asleep. “I'm going to get to my area before I completely forget where I'm going and what I'm doing, but it was nice to speak with you finally.”
His smile fell back into that barely-there lift of the lips, and he loosely stepped back into his typical stance, muscular arms folding neatly in place behind him. He nodded slightly to me just before his eyes left mine and instead went back to scanning all that he could see. “You, too, miss.”
I couldn't help one last lingering sweep of him before all but scurrying to my area of the set, where by now I likely had my staff waiting on me for instruction for the day. I also couldn't help but feel like he noticed that lingering sweep, no matter how slyly or demurely I tried to complete it. I kept my head down and walked fast, all but guzzling the remainder of my hot cider – I didn't need to run into anymore gorgeous creatures this morning before I got my bearings straight again.
I didn't quite make it out that luckily.
Just before reaching the makeshift dressing room where my makeup team currently reigned, I walked past a cluster of bodies conversing quietly in a close but uneven circle. I spotted Namjoon, the production assistant that was working closely with the director and producer, which was to be expected. He was friendly but professional, and despite a clear wall resting between “coworker” and “friend,” had so far been ridiculously easy to work with, often relaying information and requests back and forth between the heads of the project and the individual departments, including mine. To his left was a person I had only seen in brief passing, Hoseok, who as best as I could tell managed the department responsible for any and all equipment on the set. I hadn't had the chance to speak to him past quick smiles and the brief “hello” we had exchanged a few early mornings and late nights. He seemed to be full of endless energy, everywhere at once, rushing here and there with sharply barked or pointed direction to his subordinates and the other workers, though never harsh. In fact, despite his seeming busyness, I had heard nothing but good things about him. To Namjoon's right was a person I hadn't expected to see on set, and again nearly stopped me in my tracks.
As it was, I still faltered, though I just barely managed to keep from tripping over myself. Slouching, that ever-bored passive look on his face, eyes as sleepy in appearance as mine still felt, stood Yoongi. He wasn't a person that I could say I knew especially well, but perhaps better than many others on the set. He was difficult to get to know; it took a will and persistence to weasel in past his walls that most didn't have, and that was only after bearing the brunt of his effort to push you determinedly away. I hadn't quite accomplished all of that, but I had managed to grow intimate with him on one of the other projects I had worked on. It had been an especially late night for me, and I had been ensnared by the lullaby of piano song drifting quietly on the air as I had headed for the last bus home. The haunting, melancholy yet precise notes had tugged me just as well as any knotted cord could have. Compelled, I had found him, eyes closed, face relaxed, fingers moving as if of their own accord over the keys. He had looked as enraptured as I had felt, had given no sign he had noticed my arrival until the very end once he was done. He had said nothing, simply tipped his head back and to the side to look at me, black eyes still sparkling with the emotion and music that had just moved through him. For a long, long moment, he had done and said nothing still, eyes pinned to mine the entirety, until he had finally slid over only slightly, patting the slick bench beside him with one hand. Again, the invisible cord had tugged, and I had settled myself next to him without question. A few more songs, and those nimble fingers had moved to my arm, a thigh, my face. There had been a whispered, “I'm Yoongi,” before a kiss. I had managed to whisper my name back before the second. A whirlwind of a night, with a handful more to follow, before he had disappeared off set without warning or any way to contact him. It hadn't taken much looking to find who he was, or that he had been working as head of the sound department, and therefore hadn't been scheduled to be on set much at all, but I had decided to let it lay as it was. It had nothing to do with the unfavorable reputation that seemed to follow him – difficult to work with, always tired, rarely explained himself, despite that he was a wizard with the work he did – but rather that it had just felt the way it should have remained. I still wasn't sure what he had seen on my face, in my eyes, that night, or why he'd decided to let me peek into him as much as he had. What little I knew of him, I felt I knew enough that if he had wanted things to continue, he would have easily found me.
Passing them, as quiet as I was, a few heads glanced up as I had faltered and half-tripped, and of course, one of them was his. Our eyes met only briefly as I had already been moving again, trying not to stare, trying to move to my goal of the dressing room before being noticed. Flashes of our time together were ripping through my head, making my heart beat fast, and I couldn't quite manage to bat away the thoughts of would he recognize me, would he even remember me, what would he do when he saw me again, how long would he be on set this time. His eyes widened slightly, and just before I turned away, disappearing into the safety of the dressing room, I could have nearly sworn I saw him mouth my name, in shock or in question, I didn't know.
I shut the door firmly behind myself, leaning against it gratefully as I tried to calm my breathing, closing my eyes to focus on getting my internal yammering back under control. One, two, three, deep breaths before the silence was shattered by someone clearing their throat.
I groaned inwardly, guessing well enough who it was before opening my eyes to confirm. Please, not today. But sure enough, cool gray eyes met my gaze, impatient as ever. Head of casting and also holding much sway over styling, Jimin and I had butted heads more than once already. He had an exacting vision of absolute perfection, and was quick to say when your work didn't match the image in his mind. Never the matter that he was the only one who could convey that image – he expected crystal ball clarity from everyone. I supposed at least he was fair in that way, but it was still frustrating, and not what I needed to top off my nervy morning.
He quirked his brows at me, and for a moment, I nearly feared he could read my thoughts. “Rough morning?”
I sighed and pushed off the door, pointedly tossing my cup into the trash bin next to the door. “Let's just say I picked the wrong morning to go off coffee.”
His perfectly shaped eyebrows quirked minutely higher. Before he could say anything, I offered “Cider,” before sweeping past him, thumping my tote bag onto the stand set up behind my kit, sweeping my coat off as well, the familiar motions helping to get my sluggish body to start ramping up into work mode.
I decided to try and beat him to the punch. Keeping my voice even as I could, I asked, “What is the direction today?”
He took a seat as he pulled a sheath of papers magically from somewhere on his person. I bit back another groan and attacked the inside of my cheek instead; taking a seat and having a stack of notes, or bits of the script that he'd written on, was never a good sign. I glanced around to see who of my staff had arrived so far, nodding to those that had noticed my arrival or saw me quickly taking roll now, quietly settling into place to await instruction. Most of them had been with me long enough on this project to know Jimin's appearance generally meant a long day, and a late start, and were settling in against the opposite counters, or into one of the chairs piled into the moderate-sized room.
A surprising blessing in a roller coaster of a morning, his notes for today were clear and straightforward, or at least I hoped, and would find out once we got the cast out onto set for the first shoot of the day. I sighed once we had the last one out, settling down into the chair they had just been occupying. “Great work everyone. Take a break while you can, but hang close in case we have any re-do's.”
Muttered thanks and muttered grumbles mingled together in a cloud that trailed behind them as they filed out as a group. I couldn't hold the grumbling against them; despite Jimin's notes being fairly concise for once, it had still pushed us back nearly a full hour in our schedule. I was lucky I had the crew that I did because we had managed to combine the first two groups of the day in steps and stages and get them all out in time for the shoot, thankfully. I watched the mob go, not surprised that they seemed to single-mindedly be moving towards the craft table area, and contemplated following them for a moment. Another of Jin's smiles would do wonders for the soul, and so would one of his desserts that had become craft table staples and I was sure would be rapidly disappearing from their stand.
Too tired, nerves still too raw to brave the open set, I instead plopped my face into my hands, braced on the dressing room counter, and focused on my breathing. Regaining my calm and centering myself would do far more good than the passing comfort of fistfuls of sugary goodness, or so I tried to tell myself.
Not too much time passed before a quick staccato rap on the open door jarred me back to reality. I turned, gut twisting, not sure who or what to anticipate, and found Taehyung's bright face grinning at me. Unexpected, but just as good as one of Jin's sweet masterpieces, if not his own smile. I found myself smiling back without even thinking about it. “Hey.” Really, how does it happen that the staff is better looking than the movie stars... It wasn't the first time I had wondered.
Taehyung had taken the opportunity to move further into the room, walking in the exaggerated way he did when he had something to show me or to talk excitedly about, hands tucked tightly behind his back. His stance, despite how purposefully goofy it was, made me flashback to my encounter with Jungkook for a moment, the moon to his sun. He stopped about arm's length from me, still grinning triumphantly, and produced one of Jin's cinnamon rolls “as big as your head” from behind his back, and held it out for me to take.
I barely hesitated. “Oh, bless you.”
His deep laugh rattled across the room. Sometimes I could swear I felt the deep bass of them move through the floor. His stance straightened, though his arms moved to rest behind his back again, a loose imitation of Jungkook's from earlier in the morning. His eyes moved restlessly across the room as he spoke. “I may have heard that you were having a rough morning.”
I froze for a moment, Yoongi's surprised dark eyes flashing sharply in memory. Taehyung noticed, and though his eyes settled on me, his smile didn't slip, though it dialed back from blazing sunshine to filtered sunlight. “Jin said you were trying to give up coffee again.”
I didn't fail to note the emphasis on “again” and mock glared up at him.
His grin ramped back up at this, flashing nearly all of his small white teeth at me. “Hey, be nice – I snagged the last one for you.”
I glanced appreciatively back down at the cinnamon roll before offering it back to him. “Please take it back then if you haven't had any – you can't miss these when he brings them in!”
This garnered a soft laugh and a wave of his hands in front of him. “No, no, I ate mine on the way.”
I pulled it back in quickly to me at this, and tore off a huge section, not ashamed to promptly stuff it in my mouth in front of him, not caring if frosting or cinnamon filling got all over my face. I had the courtesy to swallow it down before glancing back up at him. “Seriously – bless you. I really needed this today. I was too stubborn to break down and go try and get one for myself.”
A quiet smile that hinted he was proud of himself for managing this surprise, before he asked, “Are you okay though?”
I paused, fingers having picked another fluffy chunk off for me to stuff my face with, and continued to stare at the roll rather than look back up at him. “I will be,” I offered softly, all that I wanted to say about it at that moment.
“Hmm.” It was at once a sound that signified that he was curious, wondering what had happened to rattle me, and a sound of assent as well. One of the best things about Taehyung was that despite his puppy-like level of joy, he was one of the most observant people I knew. Most people would never think it of him because of his outgoing, open nature, but also because his observance was so understated. He managed to do it in a way that was difficult to notice.
“Well,” he spoke up louder after a few quiet moments had passed and nothing further came from me, “I should get back.” He paused from where he had already turned abruptly and managed to get halfway to the door, looking back over his shoulder, a considering look on his face. “I hope your day gets better.”
I looked up to smile at him at this. “Thank you. And thank you for the cinnamon roll. And the pep talk.” I hoped he could tell how sincerely I meant it despite my sparse words.
Another easy grin and a duck of the head, waving over his shoulder with a broad long-fingered hand before sauntering out and back across the lot, quickly disappearing from my sight.
It was as if Taehyung's happy appearance and Jin's delicious roll had performed some sort of magic. I had no trouble, no more ghosts from the past, no further embarrassing bumbles, for the rest of the day, while also managing to get my team back on schedule, letting them out on time while I stayed behind to wrap up and prep for the next day. I always stayed a bit later than the others, and despite that we had a perfectly good and capable cleaning crew, always took the extra time to clean up a bit before leaving for the day. Sometimes in the heat of makeup application for shoots, sponges and applicators got tossed everywhere, and it wasn't unusual to have bits of makeup here, there, and everywhere by the time we were done for the day. It just felt inconsiderate to even think of waltzing out before cleaning up what I could of that mess.
Despite that I felt as if there were eyes on me as I left, I didn't run into anyone else, not even the night guard, though I felt certain he was on set and nearby, and made it back home without any further events.
The next morning, after a night of extremely restless and disappointing sleep, I found myself trudging onto set even earlier than I had the previous morning. This time, though, I had needed coffee, and was happy to have the familiar warmth and comfort in my hand, the pungent aroma wafting up to me from time to time as I moved in the near freezing pre-dawn air.
Even though I had a foggy haze in my head that seemed to have taken up permanent residence this morning, I spotted Jungkook before he spoke to me. “Morning,” I called to him as he met my gaze readily, that ghost of a smile already playing about his lips.
“Very early today,” he offered before nodding to my tumbler. “Something stronger than cider?”
I nodded, grinning sheepishly. “Not very proud of only making it one day... but I didn't sleep very well, so it was necessary.”
His eyes sharpened as he regarded me a long moment. I paused and moved a bit closer to him, surprised when I noticed that he stiffened slightly. I couldn't help but cock my head at him, smile dissipating, my own gaze sharpening a bit in question. “I would have brought you one, I actually considered it, but I didn't have a clue what you might drink.”
Despite that his eyes remained hard, he offered a quick quirk of his lips and simply shook his head, tension still noticeable in his back, shoulders, and neck in the way that he stood. I took a step back, thinking maybe I had overstepped the boundaries of coworker friendliness. He had called me “miss” yesterday, now that I thought back on it, and wondered if perhaps he was a bit old-fashioned.
I tsked at him, but with a smile so he'd hopefully know I was joking. “Don't tell me you're trying to give up coffee too?”
He smirked at this, eyes softening a little. “No, coffee isn't really to my taste.”
“Mmm.” I made a noise of assent. “It's not for everyone, though I'm surprised you can work such a late shift and not take up the habit. Magic!” I wiggled my fingers in a fan for emphasis before offering him a somewhat apologetic smile and turning back to my path, eyes already picking out the shape of the craft table in the dim early morning lighting.
“Something like that,” he murmured quietly, almost more to himself than in response.
His tone made me glance back at him, but his face was already closed off, eyes looking over thoughts I couldn't see. Curious. I chose not to push it further, and waved over my shoulder at him as I walked off. “Stay warm, Jungkook.”
I could feel his eyes on me at this, but didn't look back. I did, however, stop at the craft table before heading to the dressing room. I was surprised to find only one thing on it so far. I had expected to either find Jin starting to set up, or to find nothing at all, which would signify that he hadn't made it in yet. Instead, there was a small, plain white baker's box near the end of the table, closest to the walkway, no logo or design or words on it at all. I peeked inside the clear cellophane of the lid and found roughly two dozen cookies nestled together in neat rows. They looked to be elaborately decorated sugar cookies, one of my favorites. With an excited noise to myself, I opened the box, only noticing after the fact that I had broken a fancy golden seal. I excused myself by noting again that there was nothing with the box, so it couldn't be helped if this was meant for someone or something in particular and I had just bumbled my way into them.
Moving a little faster, I had already taken a bite before fully entering the dressing room. Divine! They were divine. Slightly golden on the bottom and soft, the creamy icing blended beautifully with the sugary buttery taste of the actual cookie. I wouldn't mind being scolded at all for potentially breaking into them – they were perfect. I ate it all, savoring each bite, before I even bothered to put down my tote. It was as I began to slip my coat off that I noticed the odd aftertaste of them. A little bitter, and almost hot, not quite medicinal; it was difficult to place, like a blend of spices or maybe even herbs, and yet, oddly nostalgic and nearly familiar. It had the same sense to it as when you're trying to remember something – a name to a face, a word you've infuriatingly misplaced and rests just on the tip of your tongue.
It wasn't until I had fully settled my coat on its hook and stepped near my kit that I realized I was starting to feel odd. The room tilted oddly, and I staggered, stance widening as I tried to find balance on a floor that was still flat while the room was most certainly not. “Oh no.” Surely, surely, someone hadn't managed to bring in cookies that were drugged?
The room tilted again, sharply the other way, and my piss poor balance went with it. Crying out softly, I tried to move with it, tried to find something to grab onto, as my vision began to blur and narrow and go dark. I managed to barely catch the edge of my kit, blessedly still closed up tight, and brought it down with me as I fell to the floor, muscles going hot and weak and giving out on me as my eyes shuttered and everything went fully black.
The first thing I began to notice while struggling to regain consciousness were the voices.
At first, I couldn't make out words, just tone and inflection. It was easy to differentiate that there was more than one, though, even still that muddled. Eventually, even though I didn't seem able to move or even open my eyes quite yet, the voices began to slowly make sense.
“I'm telling you, I saw her take one.” Nearly monotone. (JK)
“And you didn't stop her?” Full exasperation, higher tone and pitch. (Jin)
“Are you sure you didn't see anyone who may have brought them in?” Calm order. (RM)
“No.” Hard and unmoving, this was the first voice again. “Do you really think I wouldn't have said if I thought so?” Exasperation here, too, and a rising anger.
“Did anyone else take one?” The third voice, still calm, but a bit of worry creeping in. (RM)
“No.” A different voice, and one I knew. Yoongi. How was he even here so early? “I have them. They're all there but one.” (Suga)
Sudden tense silence that signified I must have made some sort of noise, even though I could have sworn I only groaned to myself.
“Is she awake?” Another new voice, nervous, and one that also seemed like it should be familiar, but I couldn't quite place yet. (Jimin)
“As powerful a spell that were woven into these, she shouldn't be.” Third voice again, a bit unsure. (RM)
Wait, spell?!
I sat up, or tried to. My body didn't obey, but instead did a disappointing (and somewhat mortifying) fish-like flop. My effort didn't go completely unrewarded, however, for I was suddenly staring up at a ceiling.
“What the hell.” It exploded out of me in a rush, and my breathing began to rapidly accelerate once it was out and the world began to rush back at me in an overload of senses and sensations.
A face was suddenly peeking over me, looking down at me in concern. Jin. And yet... very not Jin. His face was wrong somehow.
“Are you okay?” Nothing but concern in his words, a crease between his eyebrows showing worry.
I blinked a couple of times, still trying to sort out what was out of place about him. Then suddenly it was like a light shifted, and a shadow was abruptly pulled away, nearly like a gauzy veil had been lifted from his face. Except again, it wasn't quite the face I knew. Sharper angles, larger eyes, a crueler set to his plush-lipped mouth. His hair was... blue, and green, and nearly like the sea, dark and shifting different shades and tones each time you blinked while looking at it. Impossible, and yet, it was happening right in front of me. And his eyes... the pupils nearly consumed them, dark and wide but far from innocent. Those eyes had seen eras, eons, and were ringed in lapping colors, blue and green and gray, all dark jewel tones, distinct inner rings while the edges bled one into the other.
I swallowed as my eyes grew wider, and wider, and wider still, staring at him without blinking as much as I could manage. The shifting movement of his hair was freaking me out. “Um, no, no, I don't think so.”
The crease in his brows grew. “No? What's wrong, love?” His tone was gentle, and his manner of speaking was very much still him, but the tone was wrong. Even though he was only speaking words, there was an undertone of, how to explain it, like a melody your ears could just barely catch. It was like someone was singing wordlessly just underneath what he spoke.
“Well,” I swallowed, still staring up at him from flat on my back. “Your hair is moving, for starters.”
The concern grew rapidly on his face. “Moving?” He reached a slender hand up to swipe it back, and for a moment I swear the waves of color grew white caps.
“Oh. Oh boy.” I stuttered out. I could feel the blood draining back out of my face.
He turned to speak to one of the other voices. “I think she's still pretty out of it. Is she going to be okay?”
I had wanted to say more, but the rest of my words had shriveled on my tongue as I had noticed his ear was long, much longer, and slender, and... as much as I hated to even think it, it was the best description I had left to me – quite elven.
I think I may have squeaked, but the good thing was I was so shocked I didn't have the sense anymore to be mortified. This brought another face into my field of vision. Taehyung, staring down at me worriedly, warm brown eyes searching my face.
“No, she's awake,” he offered with a sniff before grinning down at me. “You passed out, but you're going to be okay.” His words this time came loudly, and slowly, as if he was talking to a small child. Maybe a small child that was a bit hard of hearing.
I couldn't say anything, because he had ears on the top of his head. Ears! Fluffy ears! Fluffy honey brown ears that made him look even more the part of a puppy. Except they didn't flop. And then there were the fangs... maybe more a wolf.
I abruptly started laughing, and couldn't stop myself.
“That's not good.” Yoongi, his tone flat. Yes, he would know me better than the others, and he was absolutely right.
“I think, I think she can see us.” Jungkook, his words growing more confident as he went on. “I mean, I think she can really see us.”
There was a bit of commotion at that, none of which I caught, because I was still laughing, one hand over my mouth to try and stop it, one hand clenching over my abdomen in nerves and confusion and a bit of terror.
“Taehyung has puppy ears, and Jin's eyes are huge, and his hair is like his own private ocean.” I managed to gulp the words out, clapping both hands over my mouth now, eyes still wide, trying to keep the hysterics from bubbling out. I was coherent enough now to know if I started laughing again, I wouldn't stop until it turned to crying, and I didn't want to do that.
“Oh boy.” A different voice sighed, one I wasn't familiar with. (Hobi) “This is... not good.”
Namjoon's face was suddenly above me, upside down, close enough he must have been kneeling over me. The other two moved away, or were pushed out of my field of vision, suddenly just gone as quickly as they had appeared.
I sobered as I realized he looked the same as always, if decidedly more concerned. Relief washed over me in a flood, and my muscles hinted at starting to relax. “Oh, good, you look like you.”
He paused a moment from where he had been taking stock of me with his eyes, which had still been very concerned, and grew more so as they met my gaze. When he spoke, each word was precise and careful. “We're going to figure this out, okay? But for now, I need you to go back to sleep.”
I frowned up at him, but before I could protest or say anything at all, cool fingers were at my temples, and he closed his eyes and began softly speaking, quick and low, turning into an almost hum as he went on. After a moment that felt much longer than I'm sure it was, he opened his eyes again, and they were an electric brilliant neon purple, crackles streaking them like live lightning. I'm pretty sure I would have started laughing again if staring into them hadn't sent me into an abrupt panic. The fear and alarm took over, pushing any other emotions, even the creeping numbness that had threatened to swallow me, out and away. This seemed to also unlock my body, and despite that my muscles were screaming agony, I managed to wrench my gaze away and bolt upward.
“No!” I managed to shriek, terror thrumming in my pulse, jumping to my feet and bolting out of the room on instinct before any of them had thought to react.
Run run run run. Each heartbeat was a command I had to obey. I ran blindly, just looking to get away, to get somewhere more quiet, darker, and far away from everyone in that room. Nothing made sense, and if I could just get time to sort things out –
Someone was shouting my name, but I didn't pause, didn't look back, and bolted into the darkness of the second scene setup on our lot, currently unused and awaiting its shot time. The dressing room where my team worked hadn't been too brightly lit yet with it being so early, but it still took awhile for my eyes to adjust to the total darkness of the unused second set. I ran blindly, gulping air, in full flight-or-fight instinct mode, trying to use my hands to feel what was in front of me until my eyes adjusted, but I still managed to bash my sides, my shins, one knee, my shoulders, into hard surfaces and pointy corners too much. Just before my eyes seemed to finally adjust, I smacked my shin on something immovable and went down, knees jarring painfully onto the cold floor, hands catching my body weight just before my face also skidded across the rough concrete. I hissed as the skin on my palms shredded, the burning stinging pain that followed signifying that they were surely bleeding and probably full of grit and debris.
“Fuck,” I gasped, the pain of my shin striking what I could only guess was metal or some sort of iron bar nearly taking my breath away.
After a moment, the pain ebbed away just enough I felt safe moving, gently testing my leg to make sure there wasn't any significant injury, and half-crawled half-scrabbled my way around what felt like a large office desk, pressing my back to it and trying to regain control over my breathing, closing my eyes and trying to push down the emotions so I could focus and try and come up with a plan. How to get out of here, how to get to safety, how to find help.
Opening my eyes once I felt slightly calmer, I pressed my hand gingerly to the shin I had bashed. It came away feeling distinctly wet – I may not have broken it, but it was definitely bleeding. I tried to think if I had anything to bandage it with, and wound up peeling off a boot and sock, rolling up my jeggings to wrap the sock over the gash, distinctly dark and leaking blood down my leg. My jeggings were tight enough it held the sock in place fairly well, and my short boots luckily zipped up, the laces only decorative. I unthreaded one and as tightly as I dared, wrapped and tied it around my leg where the sock rested.
It had felt necessary, but had taken a lot of precious time. I wasn't sure I had been chased since in my panicked run I hadn't really heard anything, but I felt certain someone had to have come after me. My heart started to thud harder at the thought of it. Had I really seen what I thought I had? It seemed impossible. Yet there had been the conversation. If it hadn't been for that, I could have almost chalked it up to how weird the cookie had made me feel. In fact, I still wasn't completely sure this wasn't some weird dream. People didn't magically grow doggy wolf ears, or turn into ethereal ocean elves, especially not overnight. It was all impossible.
The scuff of a shoe or foot in the near distance caught my attention. Someone was searching for me after all, and growing too close for comfort. I stiffened, looked around as much as I could for where I could run next. I couldn't see too far in the dark, but I thought I could make out a door or doorway. Did I chance it and go for it, hope it was real and not just a prop?
A voice I wasn't overly familiar with called out my name. Hoseok, I thought. Then, “We aren't going to hurt you. You don't have to run or hide. We just need to talk to you, try and explain-”
For some reason, hearing his voice made me panic. I took the opportunity of him talking to bolt for the door, hoping and praying to any and all gods that it would be real, and would be a room with another exit. Please oh please oh please!
I had decided on speed and the temporary advantage of surprise rather than trying to sneak and be quiet. Easily, he had heard me, and was now calling to the others, “Over here!”
Dammit. I gritted my teeth, pushed myself harder, trying to ignore the throbbing pain of my shin. I had the door handle in my hand and was turning it as I heard more footsteps nearing him, nearing me. For once, luck was on my side – the handle turned. I bolted through, slammed the door shut behind me, and yes! - there was even a lock on it! The click of the bolt sliding into place nearly made me giggle in relief.
Again, I was looking around in near-dark, trying to make out whether I was in a room or hallway or another set or what. It seemed to be a hallway, and it possibly turned to the left up ahead, but I wasn't certain. It was colder here as well, noticeably so, and with a small shiver, I wondered if this was still part of the set or if it would lead back outside. It didn't seem like I had covered enough distance to have reached another end of the set, but I mused that my makeup room was closer to the back of the set lot than the entrance.
Something pounded on the door behind me, and I froze. My name came again, this time from Taehyung. I didn't want to turn around, but found myself doing so anyway. There was a small glass pane placed in the door, and I couldn't make out more than his shadow past it. The silhouettes of his tufted ears were still there though. I shivered again and took a step back, wrapping my arms around myself. It was definitely much colder here, and it unnerved me to think of someone I had become so friendly with so changed.
“Just open the door.” His voice was low, lower than I had heard it yet, but the hint of sadness in it was unmistakable. “We're friends, aren't we? I saved a cinnamon roll for you just yesterday.” He attempted a soft laugh, but it fell dead in the silence between us. Still, he continued, hurt snaking into his tone. “I know I must look... different, but I would never hurt you. I know you're scared. Just come talk to us? To me?”
I was sorely tempted for a moment. It made me consider why I was even running from them. True, I didn't know any of them overly well, but the ones I did know had only ever been friendly and helpful, or professional, even if they were at times demanding. Most of them were people I had worked alongside for a decent amount of time. Why was I so scared? Because they looked different? Because I had still been out of sorts? Did I really have to be scared?
My nerves were still frayed, though, and despite that the adrenaline that had been rushing through me was starting to slack off, it was still there. Taehyung shifted slightly, and light from somewhere must have caught his eyes, for they were suddenly flashing sharp yellow at me, iridescence shimmering like an animal's eyes in the dark, winking off and back on again as he must have blinked at me. It sent a jolt through me, and on some instinct, my body had turned itself and pushed me forward again, bolting for the turn in the hallway.
He was my friend, though, and I found tears stinging my eyes as I ran. “I'm sorry,” I managed to choke out over my shoulder, not sure if he would hear me, as I turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. I really wasn't sure what I was doing anymore. I was exhausted, sure I was going to crash soon. I stopped running and let myself limp a bit, coming to a stop as I looked up and saw light, light coming through a door that seemed to lead to the outside after all.
I stared at it, considering. Where would I go? My purse, and therefore my ID, money, cell phone – any means of going anywhere – were all in it. I had nothing on me, not even my coat. There was the main security office near the front entrance, but that was a long way to go in this cold, especially injured. Again, I thought about turning back, but my body wouldn't let me. Something deeply rooted inside of me urged me on. I turned stiffly, and continued forward, half expecting the door that led to the outside to be locked from the other side, but it wasn't. The door opened easily, quietly, and then I was out.
I was out, yes, but suddenly staring into a chest. I stared stupidly at it, surprised, brain working furiously to process what was happening, as strong hands suddenly clamped around my upper arms. “I really didn't want to be the one who found you.” The words were more growled out than spoken, and I couldn't place the voice immediately.
I drew breath to scream, but found myself moving in a whirlwind of motion that I couldn't follow, that was so fast it made my stomach sick. Before I knew it, he had moved me with only his hands on my arms, to the side of the building, out of the wind, but in complete shadow, squeezed up against the cold metal of the outside walls, his grip on me shifting to cup a cold hand over my mouth, the other somehow managing to hold both of my wrists on its own, twisted behind me and into the small of my back.
“No screaming.” His voice was normal now, though lower and much cooler in tone, absolutely frosty. Jungkook.
I was surprised to find I was too cold and feeling too much pain from the pressure on my shin from how I was standing to struggle or even try and fight him. Plus his strength had been made evident. There was no way I could get past him, and I was crashing hard from my adrenaline rush. I was exhausted. Whatever internal alarm had sent me racing through the lot was completely silent now. I didn't want to run anymore.
Apparently seeing that the fight had left me, he cautiously removed his hand. “No screaming,” he repeated, somewhat dubiously. I could nearly hear the frown in his voice.
“I won't,” I replied wearily, fighting a deep shiver.
He suddenly stiffened, much like he had earlier this morning, when I had moved close to him. “You're bleeding.” His words came out as if even speaking was difficult for him.
“I bashed it on something pretty solid,” I offered slowly, growing wary, still not sure what his reactions meant, or how he'd noticed I was injured in our whirlwind of motion.
Quicker than I could follow, he had suddenly moved completely away from me, a hand rising up over his mouth and nose. As he slid back into deeper shadow, pure ink, his eyes suddenly lit up cherry red. But that's impossible...
My knees went weak, but knocked together, keeping me propped up more or less in place still as I stared at him, shivering not just from cold now. The fear began to lick up my belly once more, and I swallowed thickly.
There was a sound like something clicking on, and then he was speaking, but clearly not to me. “I have her. We're on the outside of the lot, near the back south door. Come and get her. Come and get her now.” His last sentence was full of tension that nearly bordered pain. What was going on with him?
“It's not just your shin.” I still wasn't entirely sure he was speaking to me; it seemed more like he was talking to himself. His next words came out nearly a moan. “You're bleeding everywhere.”
I struggled to not let the fear overwhelm me. How could he tell? Could he see me that well?
Another sudden movement, and he was back in front of me, too close, staring down at me with eyes that still glimmered like burning embers deep within them, as if backlit by twin dancing flames. All I could do was stare up, up, at him, into those odd, fearsome eyes. It was hard to look away, nearly mesmerizing.
I wasn't aware he had touched me until I realized he had pulled one hand up near his face, my hand open, palm up. Mouth open now, he was staring intently at the palm, releasing me from those entrancing flames in his eyes. He was breathing hard, I realized, and shaking, his grip on me too hard and growing painful. Despite that we were in shadows, enough light had managed to break through that I could see half of him, nearest to the rest of the lot. With his mouth open, unmistakably, there was the glint of light off teeth, still straight and white as before, but his canines and the teeth set just behind them were much sharper, much longer, something just as impossible as glowing cherry red, fiery eyes.
My brain was shouting vampire Vampire VAMPIRE at me, and that internal alarm-instinct was screaming for me to run, but I couldn't. Even without his gaze directly on mine, something was keeping me rooted there before him.
Just before my palm made it fully to his lips, something furry moved past my field of vision, barreling hard into him, growling deeply, knocking him away and onto the ground, the both of them rolling and tumbling back into darker shadows where I couldn't make out the continued fighting, but could hear it, all growls and snapping teeth.
I started to drop to my knees, my body crashing finally, my will seeming to have dropped out of my body with it. Luckily, strong hands caught me, sinewy arms following suit, wrapping under my arms and waist, pulling me up to my feet.
“Hey, hey now,” said softly, smoky. “Get up.”
Cool fingers on my jaw turned my head to meet Yoongi's face staring into mine, unblinking. At first, I didn't even notice the differences in him. “You don't want to see that,” he offered very quietly.
“I don't understand.” The words wobbled out of me, threatening to turn into sobs at the end.
“Tae won't hurt him, not really, but he's the one of us with the best chance to get Jungkook back under control.” His words were rushed, mostly monotone, as he focused more on trying to get me steadily up and on my feet. He tugged on me, a little harder this time, pulling me forward and off balance. “Come on.”
I hissed, wincing, as all my weight landed on my injured leg. He stopped at this, looking down as I faltered. I followed his gaze and found most of the bottom half of my pants soaked with dark blood. “Oh,” it warbled out of me. I had always been a little queasy of my own blood, and this was a lot – much more than I had expected, especially with my makeshift sock bandage.
“She's bleeding – get her inside.” Namjoon had stepped up to us in the interim, the other three flanking him. “Now,” he said more firmly, all but slapping a hand on Yoongi's nearest shoulder, staring at him intently.
“One of you go with them while I deal with these two,” he said quietly over his shoulder, moving past us, silent command in every word. To their credit, everyone moved to his tune, no protesting, not saying another word.
It wasn't until we moved back into full lamplight, the hint of dawn starting to show on the far horizon, that I really got a good look at Yoongi, still pressed to my side and helping me move. His skin had turned pale, nearly gray in the pre-dawn light. His eyes still seemed black as ever, though trying to peer at him closer, I thought perhaps the pupil seemed much larger, nearly taking up the whole of his eye. His hair had changed drastically from pure black to a shocking bone white, fluffier than I had ever seen it, seeming to rattle up from his scalp almost angrily.
“Stop staring,” he said darkly, turning his head slightly away as he continued to move us slowly to the door, moving carefully for my sake despite his harsh words.
Jin bounced up in front of us at this, seeming to take the opportunity presented. “I can carry you – that leg looks pretty bad.”
I managed to look him in the face, though it may have in part been in order to avoid looking back at my gory pant leg. Before I could say anything though, Yoongi had tightened his grip on me and stopped us. He too looked straight up at Jin. “No.” One word, but it didn't leave any room for argument.
Jin made a face back at him, clearly disappointed or disapproving, but said nothing, and stepped back to my other side, continuing to follow us dutifully. When Yoongi began to move us forward again however, my legs refused to move. I nearly buckled to the ground again, but he reacted quickly, grabbing me from more my front, and Jin catching me from behind.
“I'm sorry,” I offered, mortified when it came out more a sob than words. “I'm just so tired.” My voice caught even more on that last word, and I abruptly closed my mouth, a hand rising to press over it, trembling, trying to keep any further words or emotions in and down.
When I looked up, tears still making their way into my eyes, ours met, and he looked back at me, clearly worried, only a brief moment before decidedly looking away, as far as our proximity allowed. This time, when Jin motioned to take hold of me, he didn't protest, but let him, stepping in front of us as Jin lifted me effortlessly, moving to open the door.
“I didn't want you to ever see me like this,” I thought I heard Yoongi mutter, but wasn't sure.
I chose to close my eyes, trying to not listen to see if there were still sounds of fighting, of talking, around the corner of the building. It was silly to worry about them now when I'd been running from them all morning, wasn't it? Guilt smashed through me, and I did my best to tone out anything else for the time being.
“Jungkook didn't bite you, did he? I think we got here soon enough, but-” The rest of Jin's words trailed off and away from me as I sunk into the darkness. With my eyes closed, pressed to his warm chest, my body relaxed too much, and I was soon falling into unconsciousness.
I woke suddenly, startled, heart pounding. I nearly tipped myself over, for I was in a chair in the makeup room, next to my kit, which was upright and still perfectly closed. I blinked, looking around, confused. Where had everyone gone?
But I was fully alone in the quiet, still room. The light peeking in from the set was much brighter than it had been when I came in. I checked my watch – I had been asleep for nearly an hour, and had done none of my prep for the day. Shit.
My brain was still struggling to adjust from what was apparently a dream to my current reality. I stood carefully, but began to go over preparations for the day in my head. My crew would start to arrive within the next twenty minutes, and I needed to get ready. Still, I couldn't help but also mull over how real everything had felt, couldn't quite fully shake the unsettled feeling I had in my gut.
As the morning wore on, I convinced myself it was lack of sleep, lack of coffee, the fall weather and the nearness of my favorite holiday, Halloween, getting to me. My brain must have went into overdrive, stressed and starved for sugar, then having loaded up on sugar, and fried some nerve “wires” or something. I did my best to shake it off and go through the day, though I found myself looking at my palms over and over, distracted by how smooth and uninjured they were, not a scratch or cut to be found.
The day went on, relatively normal, and once I finally ran into a few of the staff on break, quick interactions due to my busy, tight schedule for the day, nothing seemed amiss. Jin and Taehyung were as affable as always, Namjoon just as professionally tight-lipped, and Jimin jumped my ass about makeup for a certain scene not once, but twice, even, to really round out the day. Still, I had to admit, there was a certain satisfaction once I finally achieved the look he really wanted, the vision in his mind. Seeing his face split in that startling grin, the pleased thanks, the look of pure praise, genuinely made it worth it at the end of the day. He was challenging, certainly, but sometimes I liked a good challenge; it was how you pushed yourself and found your new limits.
I had nearly shaken it off by the end of the day, chalking the dream up to a variety of reasons and things, brushing it under my mental rug. Grabbing up my coat, though, something caught my eye. At first, I thought some powder had gotten on it, but no. Looking closer, there were crumbs on the collar. A chill danced frozen fingers up my spine slowly, hair raising all over my body. Alarm humming in my body, I reached out and swept the sparse crumbs up to my lips, tasting them.
Sugar cookie.
Unmistakably, they were sugar cookie crumbs. The chill seemed to take me over, my body going frozen in a matter of seconds. But it was a dream... How could it be anything else but a dream?