Archive of Our Own

Jisung woke up with a gasp.

He stared at the darkness of his room, slightly disoriented, trying to catch his breath. His heart was hastily, painfully beating inside his chest, the sound echoing through the quietness of the night. Sweat dripped down his forehead, down his back.

Jisung sat up, rubbed his hands down his face and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. The red numbers displayed it was only a little past 4:30am.

Frustrated, he laid back on the mattress, a groan escaping his dry throat. He had to wake up at 6, but the way the nightmare had shaken him he didn't think he'd be able to go back to sleep the little over an hour he had left.

This had been the fourth night in a row. He couldn't quite remember most of the details of the dreams, but there was something he noticed they all had in common: Jisung was always running, pulled by invisible strings like he was a lifeless puppet, and he never knew what was he running away from, he was never allowed to look back.

After a while, he arrived at some destination, or he just simply stopped running, and there'd be someone; Jisung was sure it was always the same person, watching him with big eyes and a wicked, mocking smile. The scenarios in each nightmare had been different, distressing in their own twisted way, but that someone (who Jisung was almost sure was a guy) didn't change, like he was the ending of his terrifying dreams before Jisung startled awake.

Every time he laid in bed after a nightmare, wide awake, he would think about those eyes while he tried to calm the thumping in his chest. He had read, time ago, that the faces that appear on your dreams are people you've met before - a friend, a familiar, or just someone you've passed on the street - that your own subconscious uses as characters for its bizarre stories. And Jisung knew that, and it was probably the case; but he couldn't shake the eerie feeling that crossed his mind the first night he came face to face with those eyes, glinting with mischief, right before claws pierced through Jisung's chest effectively waking him up.

Mysterious boys aside, he had other concerns.

Now, it wasn't like he had never had nightmares before. He vividly remembered that one time Seungmin convinced him and Felix to watch an horror movie (he still asked himself how), woke up later that night nearly sobbing and spent hours on the phone with the freckled boy, as scared as he was. And he probably had had plenty of bad dreams that he couldn't recall when he was little, but four consecutive nightmares was starting to become a problem - it was messing with his sleeping pattern, exhausting him and making him moody and snappy.

What was causing him to have nightmares? He had stayed away from horror movies since that time (even if Seungmin tried to talk him into watching a new one with him), and his classes were stressing him as much as ever but that was nothing new for it to be the cause.

Before he could delve further into it, his alarm clock rung and Jisung let out a long, tired sigh. He briefly wondered who thought 7am classes were a good idea, and silently cursed them.

He was so out of it that morning that he almost put hand cream on his toothbrush, put on two different colored socks and his contact lenses fell down the sink so he had to look for his glasses (ten minutes lost), run to class and he nearly tripped on his way through campus.

When he finally plopped down next to Seungmin at their usual spot, catching his breath, the other boy raised a brow at his direction while sipping from his coffee.

"You look like shit, Jisung."

Despite the nonchalant tone his friend used, there was some concern in his words. And Jisung knew he looked like death - pale, messy, and dark circles gradually forming under his eyes. At least his cheeks still had the baby fat that Hyunjin so liked to pinch, as he so kindly reminded him later that day. His lack of reaction at having his cheeks squeezed was the last straw for his friends to really start worrying about his health. But Jisung, stubborn as he was, assured them that he was okay, that it was only temporary, and that he'd be back on track soon enough. Even if the words seemed to be also a reassurance for himself, his friends didn't mention it.

That night he drank a glass of warm milk (with a teaspoon of honey) and went to sleep early (before ten! On a Friday night!), in hopes of returning to his peaceful, slightly strange but definitely not scary dreams. Tossing and turning, he finally fell asleep past 12am.

☾ °☆

Jisung was running.

It was dark, the air stuffy and tense, like it was holding its breath waiting for Jisung's impending doom. It took him a while to recognise the blurry forms he passed by in his haste, but he came to the realisation that it was a forest - the velvety wings that gently caressed his face were the trees' foliage, the prickly feeling in his hands were the thorns of the bushes he ran into. Jisung tripped on a tree's root, his body tipping forward dangerously fast, but before he could fall, an invisible force pulled him up and he was running again.

At first he could only listen to his faltering breath and his heartbeat rapidly thumping in his ears. But as the sight of the path he was following got clearer, so did the footsteps chasing him close by. Jisung tried to run faster, put some distance between him - the prey - and his hunter; his legs ached, felt like they could barely hold his weight, like they'd crumble if he so much of slowed down.

A flicker of light caught his attention and through the corner of his eye he saw fire, red, angry flames advancing at the same pace as Jisung, as if it was running alongside him. In no time a thick cloud of smoke surrounded the forest, making Jisung cough into his hands, tears springing to his eyes, strength leaving his body. The footsteps got closer, and he felt hands approaching him, nearly catching his limbs in unyielding, bruising grips.

Jisung felt the bubble of a scream forming in his throat, but when he opened his mouth smoke filled his lungs and he was coughing again, his insides burning like the fire accompanying him, illuminating his surroundings with a faint orange light. Abruptly, his legs stopped running, saved from toppling over by the invisible strings that ruled over his body and the definitely non-human hands that gripped at his legs, at his arms, so tightly that their nails drew blood. If they weren't holding him upright he would have crumbled down from how much he was shaking.

The forest was eerie quiet. He couldn't even hear the crackling of burning wood, or the wind whispering through the trees. When he strained his ears for something, though, the faint murmur of a laugh made his blood run cold - it sounded like it was mocking Jisung, wishing for another hand to curl around his throat and finish the job.

Jisung closed his eyes tightly shut.

Someone's breath hit Jisung's cheeks like a caress, and he looked up, meeting the same chilling eyes of the mysterious boy. They were big, staring down at Jisung with curiosity, until he smiled wide, wickedly, showing rows of unnaturally pointed teeth, and a hand clasped around Jisung's neck and yanked him backwards.

Jisung jolted awake. Breathing heavily, heart thumping in a quick tempo. The faint, ghostly feeling of hand prints grabbing at his limbs, his throat. The distant echo of laughter in the back of his mind.

The alarm clock showed the numbers 3:37am and Jisung turned around and screamed into his pillow.

When that didn't make him feel any better (just slightly more awake than he was before), he went with Plan B.

"Jisung, are you okay?"

Chan picked up the phone after just two ringtones, like he was expecting Jisung to call. Of course he was! Chan knew everything. He was sort of a Witch; a Wizard; a Warlock - Jisung wasn't sure what, he just knew Chan wasn't entirely human, and that he had powers of some sort. And that he was the most trustful person Jisung had ever met.

"Chan-hyung," he cried into the phone, staring up at the ceiling. "I can't take it anymore, it's driving me crazy."

"Is it the nightmares, again?" Jisung was sure he hadn't mentioned the continuous bad dreams past the first one, but again, he wasn't surprised. Before he could reply, though, Chan continued, voice laced with concern. "I want to help you Jisung, this is really messing with you. Could you maybe describe them to me?"

Jisung began to explain with what he had already pinpointed in his mind before - the repetitive scenario in each nightmare where he was running, running, running until he stopped and got startled awake. He briefly related today's dream, since it was still fresh in his mind, getting chills when he recalled the footsteps following him and the hands holding him tight. For some unknown reason, Jisung refrained from mentioning the mysterious boy to Chan. It felt like that information was a secret only he was allowed to know, like he wanted to keep his existence to himself - it's not like he lived outside of Jisung's imagination, either way.

"Okay," Chan sighed in the other line. "Okay, I'll work with that. I'll call you back when I have an idea, now get some sleep, Jisung."

Jisung bit back a sarcastic retort - says the one who never sleeps - and hung up after quietly thanking his hyung. But it was better said than done, when his mind was working a mile a minute and sleep had seemed to escape his body the moment he woke up. So he laid awake in bed, hands clutching his hamster plushie tightly to his chest, until the sun rays were peeking over his window.

Monday morning he decided to skip class. With the hardly 6 hours of sleep he got over the weekend he just wanted to look for a pharmacy and ask for anything that would knock him out for at least 12 hours of dreamless slumber. He was barely conscious, barely knew where he was going, but it felt like his legs were leading him somewhere. He didn't see it until he was right in front of it - an small, old-looking store, faded brown paint on the walls, a big window displaying from feathers, to crystals, to worn out books and suspicious boxes. The hand drawn shop sign hanging over the door caught Jisung's attention, written with sophisticated, detailed letters he could read what he supposed was the store's name: InSomnia. Jisung decided he liked the name, and completely forgetting the main purpose of his outing, he entered the shop.

The little bell over the door signaled Jisung's entrance with a soft clink. The inside of the store was dark, faintly illuminated by the soft morning light coming from the big window, and it was just a splash of brown hues and outdated ornaments. The interior looked so antique and polished, like a living room straight out the set of an old movie, that Jisung felt slightly out of place with his bright green hoodie.

In his wonder, surveying every little detail his eyes could catch, he didn't notice the woman behind the counter looking at him with a knowing smile.

"Welcome, how may I help you?"

Jisung jumped, startled at the sudden voice, and faced its owner with flushed cheeks. A young woman, a few years older than him, with straight blond hair and striking long eyelashes smiled at him, and beckoned him to walk up to the counter. He shyly complied.

"My name's Siyeon," her voice sounded kind, had kind of a laid-back tone, almost lazy, but it was also captivating, that Jisung replied with his name immediately after even without being asked. Siyeon's smile grew bigger. "Well, Jisung, what's your problem?"

The playful glint in her eyes should had been the telltale sign that something was amiss, but Jisung was more preoccupied sorting out his thoughts to notice. He didn't even realise he was about to divulge this type of personal information to an antique shop's - or whatever it was - employee.

"I-I've been having nightmares, every day, for a week, and I don't know what to do?" Jisung met Siyeon's eyes confidently, even if he was an embarrassed mess inside. How awkward, how is she even going to help me?

But Siyeon just smiled, held up a hand and disappeared through the door behind her. A couple of minutes later she was back, holding an opened box in her hands. When Jisung peered inside he saw a dreamcatcher - made of gold strings and shiny gems forming an elaborated pattern inside the hoop, covered in a black velvet cord, and seven black feathers, of varying sizes, hanging from it.

"Wow, it's beautiful," Jisung exclaimed, reaching out to gently caress the feathers; they were soft, and left his fingers sparkling with golden dust. Siyeon hummed softly.

"Do you know how dreamcatchers work? They filter people's dreams, only letting good ones pass through. The nightmares are trapped in the web the strings create and in the next morning, the first rays of the sun burn them out," Siyeon explained, and Jisung was so enthralled by her voice he barely registered what was she saying. "But this one's a little special, you see. It holds great powers, but unfortunately, they also fade each morning after every use. It works perfectly, I'm sure this is the item you're looking for," she smiled, big and convincing, and Jisung left the store a few minutes later with a box neatly wrapped in a pretty ribbon and a considerable emptier wallet.

In the afternoon, back in his dorm room, he received a call from Seungmin.

"You skipped class this morning," he stated, the moment he picked up the phone.

"I did," Jisung nodded, mindlessly scrolling through dumb articles he found on internet. A little beep notified him of a new email - Seungmin had sent him the notes he took today.

"Where did you go?"

"I was a man on a mission, but I kind of, got sidetracked."

"Jisung, where did you go."

"I bought a dreamcatcher," he glanced up at said item neatly pinned to the wall over his bed. "Siyeon, the store's employee, said it'll get rid of my nightmares," the more words that poured out of his mouth, the more reluctant he became. "Said it's one of a kind. Quite expensive."

"Jisung, man, you got scammed," he could almost taste Seungmin's disappointment.

He groaned, throwing his head back. "I know."

Someone stop me from making big decisions when I'm sleep deprived.

"But I'll give it a chance, you know, since it's emptied my wallet and I'll have to stick to instant noodles for the rest of the month."

Seungmin sighed, muttered a you do you, and then hung up. Well, he could already imagine what his friend was thinking without him having to express it out loud: how he ought to be more thoughtful with his money when he was a broke college student with just a small monthly allowance from his parents. He was sure Seungmin was now going to tattle about his first failure as an adult to the others, too.

Weirdly enough, he couldn't remember much of what happened back at the store save for Siyeon's words, which had felt like the absolute truth to his ears, turning his brain into mush and banning it from processing the blatant lies she was actually telling just to sell him an overpriced silly object. He could only but blame his exhausted self for not realising sooner.

At least, the dreamcatcher was pretty it made a nice touch to his room.

Before going to sleep, he glared at said item as menacingly as he could, and said: "You better work."

☾ °☆

Jisung woke up a bit dazed.

It took him exactly a minute to realize he had been awoken by his alarm blaring through his phone's speakers. He sat up, turned it off, and got out of bed; feeling like he was failing to grasp something right in front of his nose, like it was escaping his still sleep-induced mind.

It wasn't until he finished tying his shoes, glanced up, and saw the dreamcatcher on the wall that it clicked in his mind. He hadn't had a nightmare! If he racked his brain he could faintly recall dreaming of dragons and sunsets, flying and fighting against bad guys; but as scary as it could sound (it didn't take much to daunt Jisung, to be honest) it had truly been fun!

Now, he didn't want to give in to wishful thinking so soon, it could have been just a coincidence, a much wished one; but holy shit it had actually worked. The only thing he wanted to do now was tell Seungmin - and the others, who probably already knew, courtesy of the aforementioned boy - how he could make proper decisions by himself and have them turn out alright in the end. Take that.

But again, had it really been sheer luck that his nightmares banished? Or had it been magic, and Siyeon had said the truth about the dreamcatcher's supposed powers? He wasn't new to the whole supernatural thing - even if the only actual non-human he knew was Chan - so that last possibility didn't even surprise him. Still, he decided to let it pass as a coincidence for now and wait until tomorrow to draw conclusions. Even if he did have a good night's rest, he still felt exhausted from the entire past week of barely a wink of sleep.

Felix was the first to notice Jisung's considerable better mood (as they met and walked together to the main building), and later on, taking pity on the boy, Changbin treated him to lunch, which helped lift his spirits a bit more. Sticking to ramyeon for the next two weeks didn't sound as appealing as he had initially thought. Hopefully, he could pressure - by flashing his big, pleading eyes and adorable gummy smile - another one of his friends into buying him food tomorrow.

When he got back to his room in the late afternoon, after a quick visit to the library to borrow a few books he needed for an assignment, his eyes detected something that had gone unnoticed that morning - the dreamcatcher only had six feathers.

Jisung was confused. He approached his bed in caution, knelt facing the wall, and raised a hand to count them one by one. Six. Did he miscount the number of feathers back at the store? They were all black and cramped together side by side, so he could have easily added a seventh when there were only six of them. He shrugged - it didn't matter that much anyway, even if there was an alarm blaring in the back of his mind when he thought about it.

Since he didn't have classes until late morning the next day, he got to work on some lyrics for a track Chan had sent him earlier on the day until sleep called for him a little before midnight.

He dreamt of green hills and clear rivers, camp fire, laughter and his group of friends. When he woke up he felt happier, a lot like his usual self, and most importantly well-rested. He came to believe the dreamcatcher was actually working, with its mystic dream-trapping powers, feeling joy burst through his veins. But it was short-lived - when he glanced up, there were only five feathers.

He clearly remembered counting six of them the night before. Even if he searched his surroundings, even inside his comforter, under his pillow, he couldn't find the missing feather.

Siyeon's words resonated through his mind, ''It holds great powers, but unfortunately, they also fade each morning after every use''.

Then he didn't imagine it and the dreamcatcher had really had seven feathers in the beginning. With only five left, and missing two, he put two and two together and realised that with every night's dream, two so far, it lost a feather. Which probably meant he only had five days left of peaceful slumber, and hoped the nightmares wouldn't come back once the entire week passed.

However, as the days went on and his dreams remained placid, that flicker of hope grew bigger until he was sure his nightmares wouldn't haunt him again.

Maybe he spoke too soon.

Monday night of the following week found Jisung kneeling on his bed, clad in his nightwear, eyes tightly shut while he prayed to any being willing to listen to him for the dreamcatcher to work - devoid of the hanging feathers, it was now a sad hoop of black velvet and gold strings and gems that had even lost its initial shine.

I paid an absurdly amount of money for you, don't fail me now.

With that said, or thought, he proceeded to sent a message to the group chat he had with his friends - 'wish me luck', to which he received multiple interrogation signs - and went to sleep, hugging one of his stuffed toys closely.

☾ °☆

Jisung was running.

Legs straining as he climbed step after step of seemingly never-ending stairs that creaked under his weight. After what felt like hours, he found himself running down a dimly lighted, narrow hallway, with outdated ugly wallpaper and frames filling every space on the walls. He passed by a closed door every few steps, but his hands were glued to his sides even if he wanted to reach out to their knobs, slip away from the endless path he was following.

The carpeted floor muffled his run, making the strong, fast beating of his heart a hundred times louder in the silent place. Jisung jolted when thunder rumbled in the distance, resounding through the walls of the old building.

His shoulder bumped with the edge of the wall when his body suddenly decided to make a sharp right turn, following a different route. His breath caught in his throat at the sight before him - another corridor, with blood-colored splatters on the walls, mirrors projecting the low, orange light coming from the crystal lamps on the ceiling. When his hand accidentally touched something silky yet sticky, he took notice of the spiderwebs that coated every corner, glowing an eerily white.

A sudden gust of wind coming from behind pushed him forward, making Jisung almost trip on the plush carpet, carrying a distinct smell of ash and sulfur and danger. His head involuntarily turned to the left as he passed a waist-length mirror, and on its reflection he saw his pale, sweat-drenched, frightened face, and a claw-like hand made of smoke chasing after him. His breathing hastened, and Jisung tried to run faster, but he only seemed to slow down.

The further he went, the darker the hallway became. The lights flickered continuously over his head, following the erratic rhythm of his heart. The storm outside seemed to grow stronger, the thunder louder and the pitter-patter of rain and the howling of the wind clearly heard over his heavy breathing.

The lamps stopped blinking for a few long seconds in which Jisung continued running blindly, controlled by an invisible force, until the lights came back; Jisung let out a blood-chilling scream, closing his eyes with force to erase the creepy image of the silhouette of a giant spider projected onto the wall next to him. The only thing that crossed his mind at the moment was making it out alive.

His eyes snapped open the moment his legs stopped any movement. He was facing a large window, slightly fogged-up, but still possible to see the night landscape outside, the angry looking clouds and the lightning and the large expanse of a forest three stories below. Jisung felt a chill run down his spine before he heard shifting behind him, and he turned around.

It was him. Face casted in shadows, but dark eyes gleaming unnaturally. He towered over Jisung, peering down at him with the ghost of a mischievous smile in his features. A thick cloud surrounded his figure, wrapped down around his arms, taking the shape of a beast's claws.

Jisung maintained eye contact; even if he was violently shaking, even if he took a step back everytime the mysterious boy came a step forward. He didn't even notice his back colliding with the cold surface of the window. The taller boy brought his face closer to Jisung's, like he was inspecting him, his reaction. His breath hitched, and the other smiled big and mockedly before his claws pushed his chest and Jisung was falling, falling, falling.

Jisung sat up on his bed, a scream threatening to leave his throat.

He was drenched in cold sweat, and when he brought up a hand to his face he discovered his cheeks damp with spilled tears. With a sigh he glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table and groaned at the displayed 4:03am.

'Now what?' he thought, lying back down on the mattress, eyes wide open and trying to forget the vividly feeling of the broken glass shards piercing his body as he fell in his nightmare. The dreamcatcher - if it could still be called that - proved to be of no help anymore; one way or another that meant he had to visit that peculiar store again, but no way was he spending money (that he didn't have) in a new item that would only help him on the short-term. He was going to demand a solution, a definite solution, or a new set of long-lasting feathers.

With newfound resolve, Jisung left his dorm room first thing in the morning, dreamcatcher safely kept in its box inside his backpack, and after sending Seungmin a quick text apologizing for skipping class once again but he had important matters to solve.

('Should I tell Chan-hyung?' he replied, his distrust evident through the phone screen. Jisung snorted and shot back 'I'm not doing anything dangerous, chill')

However, it took Jisung over an hour to find the shop. Surprisingly, he couldn't really recall the path he had taken last week so he just aimlessly wandered through the general direction he at least remembered going to; plus a quick stop at a bakery when his stomach growled in protest. Just when he thought of heading back to campus he was taken aback when he stumbled upon the familiar-looking shop's sign.

InSomnia was as deserted as the last time, possibly not a popular place for customers to stop by. Once he entered he was momentarily distracted by the decorations - the collection of quite bizarre and dusty wall clocks, the rows of shelves with an arrange of books, candles and whatelse, the cozy-looking armchair in the far right corner with the creepy doll - as if this was his first time around. He was fascinated by the comforting feeling the store was giving him, and he even caught the faint melody of a music box in the background he didn't notice the last time. But then he snapped out of it and turned left to the direction of the counter, expecting to see Siyeon behind it.

He was beyond shocked to find, instead, the very protagonist of his nightmares in flesh and bones, staring back at him with an amused grin.

"Holy f-" Jisung screeched, but stopped when he choked on his spit and started coughing into his hands. If the situation didn't feel as incredulous, his cheeks would have heated up at the boy unabashedly laughing at him. He must have caused a ruckus, because a few seconds later he was met with a familiar blond head emerging from the back door.

"Oh, Jisung, welcome back," Siyeon flashed him a cheeky smile, and something was telling him that she knew he'd be coming back soon.

"Jisung," the other said, slowly, carefully, like he was tasting his name for the first time. He seemed satisfied, if the way his smile grew almost imperceptibly bigger was any indication.

Jisung turned his attention back at the boy and really looked at him. At his honey-colored silky hair, slightly parted to show a smooth forehead, at his narrow face and high cheekbones, yet elegant and delicate features, at the loveliest pink shade of his lips. Every little detail he couldn't seem to catch in his dreams, but his eyes. The same big, dark eyes, sparkling with something akin to interest while he regarded Jisung; the spitting image of the same eyes that haunted his mind every time he laid awake in bed after a nightmare when he couldn't fall back to sleep. That thought hit Jisung like a slap to his face.

"You!" he exclaimed, taking long strides until he was right in front of the boy, gritting his teeth and shaking with contained anger (and probably fear as well, because what the fuck, this was the guy that pushed him down from a window! Jisung had to remind himself that it hadn't been real).

"Minho," the boy provided, resting his chin on his hands propped over the counter, blinking rapidly. Jisung got confused for a moment, distracted by his pleasing, mellow voice. Was this all really happening or was he still dreaming? "My name's Minho. Nice to meet you, finally," he made sure to stress the last word, smirking knowingly.

Jisung gasped out loud, eyes wide open, and stopped himself in time before he let out a succession of swear words that would scandalize his mother. The mysterious boy, Minho, wasn't an invention from his imagination but a real person. He still couldn't quite grasp around that revelation, because what did it entail? What even was going on right now? Will he die?

"I think we broke him," Siyeon pointed out, raising an eyebrow at the gaping Jisung, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of the water. Minho giggled, amused. "Jisung, sweetie, why don't you take a seat here?" despite the question, her tone didn't leave room for a refusal, and so he let her led him to a stool placed next to the counter - closer to Minho. His eyes didn't leave the other's face, almost didn't even blink, afraid that the moment he stopped looking he would disappear.

"What-"

"Are you real?" Jisung blurted out, interrupting Minho. He squinted his eyes and leaned a tad bit closer, catching a faint odd smell of ash and mint. The brown-haired threw his head back in a belly laugh.

"I very am real."

Jisung, in some sort of trance, continued to stare at him, who maintained eye contact with confidence and a big, Cheshire grin.

"Here you go," Siyeon's voice made Jisung jump on his seat, for he had completely forgotten about her; he hadn't even noticed her leaving. The woman placed a white porcelain cup with an intricate flower design before him, steam coming off the brim. Jisung thanked her and took a tentative sip, before reason seemed to come back to his body and he narrowed his eyes at the beverage, then at the blonde.

"Is this poison? A potion to make me forget about today so I don't go around disclosing about the weird mystic shit going on that I don't even understand?"

Minho and Siyeon looked at each other, bemused, and then burst out laughing. Jisung felt his cheeks heat up and tried to hide them behind the cup still in his hands.

"It's just chamomile tea, Jisung," Siyeon offered kindly, lips curving up with mirth. He just nodded, red-faced - it did taste like chamomile, truthfully.

The store fell silent. While Jisung continued drinking from the tea cup, profusely avoiding looking at the other two, Minho picked at the dirt under his nails and Siyeon paced around the shop, humming alonside the melody of the music box. The drink helped calm his agitated mind, clear his thoughts enough to start making much needed questions. Jisung settled the cup, now empty, back at the counter and cleared his throat to catch the other boy's attention.

"W-what are you?" he asked, wary, regarding Minho for any type of reaction. He received an amused smirk in return - probably because his voice had wavered when he spoke, but he wasn't scared, okay? - before he replied.

"A Nightmare," he stated, and upon seeing Jisung's puzzled stare, he added with a sigh: "A demon spirit that torments humans' dreams and feeds off their fear and despair."

"Dude, that's not nice," Jisung frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why the hell are you tormenting me, then? It's common knowledge that college students barely get any sleep, why make it harder for me?"

It was Minho's turn to look confused, head tilted to the side in a definitely not cute way.

"What do you mean?" Minho glanced briefly at Siyeon for any aid, but she was busy rearranging delicate-looking items in a far corner of the store. He looked back at Jisung, who had raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Jisung, you were cursed."

If he had been drinking his tea, he was sure he would have spluttered all the warm liquid and made a mess. Instead, he choked on his own spit.

"Cursed?!" he exclaimed, incredulous. What kind of fairy tale plot was he involved in now? Was that why fate chose to introduce him to someone with prince-like looks?

Minho nodded, oblivious to Jisung's internal distress. "By a Witch. A rookie one, it seems, since they couldn't invoke a higher ranked demon like Minji or Bora."

"Okay, wait, I need a moment to take this all in," he raised a hand as in to motion him to stop, to which the other replied with an amused giggle.

A Witch. An apparently amateur Witch had put a curse on him. As hard as it was to believe - because he didn't know any Witch? And Chan didn't count! - he tried to search his brain for any possible clue. For starters, his nightmares had begun two weeks ago, so it was safe to assume that he had been cursed on that same day, a Monday. On Mondays he only had three morning classes, two he shared with Seungmin and the last one, an elective class he took twice a week, Creative Writing. There were only a handful of students, if they even showed up, and he had been nothing but friendly towards them-

Wait. Jisung's mind suddenly provided him with a memory he blissfully and completely forgot about. Flashback to three weeks ago, when his pen had run out of ink and he had asked the girl sitting behind him, Ahn Hyejin, for a spare one. The following week, Hyejin requested her pen back and Jisung, having forgotten to buy a new one, lied and told her he left it at home, then proceeded to shamelessly take her pen out of his bag to write. He thought he heard the girl muttering something under her breath, but chose to ignore it. If only he had paid more attention to the details, he would have realised sooner - the crystal pendant she always wore, the long, sharp painted nails, and the funny-looking pointy hat (which, to be honest, Jisung had deemed it as fashion statement).

"Oh my god, I am an idiot," he groaned, throwing his head back in his despair. He did not appreciate Minho laughing at him even if the sound was like music to his ears. "Is it possible to uncurse me?"

"Where would be the fun if I told you?" the rhetorical question made Jisung snap his head back on place; he saw malice spark on the demon's eyes. Jisung was suddenly aware of a little fact that his mind had overlooked so far - despite his good looks, Minho was a demon, an evil being that had been plaguing his dreams and terrorizing him. Why was he acting so friendly with literally his worst nightmare?

At this new realisation, he frowned at the other boy, stood up rather hastily and left the store with fast strides, muttering a quick goodbye to a puzzled Siyeon. He had received some answers, at least. Still, he decided to call the ever trustworthy Chan to seek for guidance (because what was he supposed to do now, he didn't know one thing about magic and spells and whatnot).

"Hello Jisungie, shouldn't you be in class right now?"

"That's not important right now. Hyung, I've been cursed!"

"Jisung, you should know better than to anger a Witch," Chan halfheartedly scolded, and Jisung could almost picture his concerned frown.

"I didn't know she was one! But listen, the responsible for my nightmares is a demon," he made sure to stomp down with force to prove how exasperated he was.

"A Nightmare, right? I had an inkling feeling, but it's hard to verify unless they actually show themselves to you."

"Well, I just met him and you better forget what I'm about to say but he is infuriatingly beautiful," Chan's hearty chuckle made him pout. "That doesn't change the fact that he's bad!"

"I'm glad you had fun today, Jisung."

"Anyway, any idea about how can I uncurse myself?"

Chan's suggestion was very simple - if Jisung had ticked the Witch off, the key was to make amends with her. This wasn't the solution he had expected to find when he left his dorm that morning, but if it worked, he'd take it. Checking the time on his phone once the call ended, he rushed to the nearest stationary store before running to his last class of the day.

Despite of his hurry, he arrived ten minutes after the bell rung and had to stand for a couple more of minutes while the lecturer reprimanded him for interrupting the lesson. The moment he took seat in his chair and the old man resumed his boring talk, facing the projector, Jisung turned around with a saccharine smile.

"Fancy seeing you on this fine morning, Hyejin," he tried to keep his voice down as to not gain unnecessary attention, and ignoring the girl's dubious stare, he pulled out the newly-bought set of glitter pens that had been unreasonably expensive and left them on her table. "I'm sorry for taking your pen, I hope you like them," he quickly bowed his head, turned back around and prayed to someone up there to finally be freed of his nightmares. When he finished, he fished his phone out of his pocket and sent a row of thumbs up emojis to Chan (who replied with a 'pay attention to class, Jisung'). He could only but hope the Witch would forgive him.

For the rest of the day he didn't give another thought about curses and pretty demons and maybe not seeing them again but at least he'd be sleeping peacefully again. Hyunjin, Felix and him went out for ice-cream, and later on they met up with Jeongin after classes near his high school. It was hard to find time to meet with the youngest, as he was busy finishing his last year, and he couldn't wait to have him join their college next year. Changbin joined them for dinner (and treated them, bless him) and after parting ways, Jisung was so giddy with happiness he seemed to have forgotten about his unusual morning.

However, when he woke up at 4am with shaking hands, short of breath and a pounding heart, and the fresh memory of fire, and blood, and dark, big eyes, he threw his pillow to the other side of his room with a choked scream. Did it really not work? Did Hyejin not like the glitter pens? Who the hell doesn't like glitter pens! Jisung kicked his legs in frustration, got tangled in his comforter and fell off the bed with a loud thump.

Seeing as he failed, unexpectedly so, he needed new answers; which meant, against all common sense, visiting the store once again.

He passed time typing a paper that was due on later that week. By the time he finished, with a pounding headache and eyes burning from staring at his laptop screen for hours, the clock had barely struck 8am. Jisung deemed it a good time, dressed up in comfortable clothes, decided to forego contact lenses and wear his glasses instead, and made a beeline to the bakery he had stopped by the day before to get a nice, warm cup of much needed coffee. He didn't even mind the high price even if it was a hit to his wallet as he craved the caffeine, but really, what was wrong with this neighbourhood and their expensive products?

With a sigh - a long, tired one - he left the shop and headed to InSomnia, luckily remembering the way without problems this time. The now familiar clink of the bell over the door made Jisung's tense shoulders slump, a strange calmness settling in his bones. Siyeon smiled warm and welcoming behind the counter, beckoning him with a hand to approach her.

"Welcome back," she crooned, hands wrapping around a steaming cup of tea. When Jisung looked closely he noticed another cup and the stool he sat on yesterday placed on the same spot, inviting him to plop down. So he gladly did.

"Good morning, Siyeon," he politely replied, and when she nodded at the direction of the other teacup, he took a sip. The drink was lukewarm, tasted sweet yet spicy, and Jisung let out an involuntary hum of contentment. "It's good."

"It's black tea with rose petals," she announced, and Jisung nearly choked with the liquid at how fancy and high-priced it sounded. At the alarmed look he gave her, that could only translate to 'Am I really allowed to drink this?', Siyeon laughed. "You're a funny one, Jisung."

"Well, thank you, I guess."

The silence that followed was oddly comfortable, accompanied by the repetitive melody of the music box in the background. The moment Jisung finished off his tea, Siyeon took both empty cups and left through the door behind the counter for a couple of minutes. If she trusted him enough to leave him unsupervised in the store, Jisung decided he liked her a little more - even went as far as to consider her a friend!

But the moment she came back, Jisung seemed to snap back to reality and realise he hadn't come here to have an impromptu tea party with Siyeon.

"Minho's not here, right now," she smiled apologetically, and the boy was left gaping - was he this transparent? "Do you wanna wait?"

Jisung shot a quick glance to one of the clocks in the wall (one of the dozens!); he still had about an hour until he had to leave if he wanted to be in time for his class. "Is it okay if I wait here?"

Siyeon nodded. "Of course. It's nice to have company every now and then."

So Jisung stayed, hands linked on his lap, while the girl scribbled and crossed out and underlined words in a little notepad. The sound of the pencil scratching paper entertained him for a while, as his eyes wandered through the cluttered store - unnopened boxes pushed to the far corner, probably new goods that had arrived earlier, the impossibly high mountain of books the titles of which he couldn't read, the shelves and other decorative furniture that left little space to freely move around; and the lack of customers.

In the half an hour that had passed (Jisung checked), not a single soul entered the store, not even out of curiosity. The other two times he had been over it had been equally empty.

"Do you not get much customers? This place is dead," he wondered aloud.

Siyeon chuckled softly, not once stopping her task at hand. "Well, this is a magical store. We sell useful things for fellow Witches and other creatures, and not for humans to add to their mystical collections to gain dust. But we do make more money from oblivious humans who'd get anything in their desperation," the smirk she sported in her lips made Jisung frown.

"Hey!"

"It's okay, you've been my favorite so far," she ceased writing for a moment to reach somewhere under the counter and present a handful of candies to Jisung. That still didn't make him feel better, even if he popped one into his mouth. "And to answer your question, customers usually come by after lunch break, you're probably the only one that's come in the morning."

After a little pause, Jisung spoke again. "Are you also a Nightmare? I'd rather have been cursed with you than Minho, you're nicer."

"Sorry to disappoint but I am not," she replied in between laughs. "I'm a Siren."

Jisung thought back to the first time they met, how sweet yet commanding her voice had sounded and how it didn't leave much room to anything but obey. It made sense.

They passed the rest of the hour making small talk, until Jisung reluctantly stood up to leave for his class. Minho didn't even appear, and even if he refused to let another day go to waste, he didn't want to skip any more classes. Siyeon seemed to catch on his hesitation.

"You can swing by later if you want," she offered, setting her pencil aside to look at the boy.

He was meeting up at the studio with Chan and Changbin after lunch, which meant they'd be busy for hours and probably would finish quite late. "What time does the store close up?"

Siyeon propped her elbows on the counter, resting her chin on her hands, and gave him a smile full of secrets. "Just come when you can."

Jisung narrowed his eyes, but still bid her goodbye and left before it got too late.

☾ °☆

When they all left the studio, satisfied with all the work they had done, the sun was well down in the sky, painting the city in orange and red hues. Instead of following the other two back to campus, Jisung apologised and went the opposite direction, ignoring Changbin's teasing.

(Maybe, during a little snack break they took, Jisung was complaining to Chan about his failed attempt at freeing himself from the curse and the demon continuing to daunt him, and Changbin got an entirely different and unrelated idea.

"Did Jisungie get a boyfriend and didn't tell me?")

Luckily for him, InSomnia wasn't too far from the studio, but by the time he was standing outside the store, the street's lamp posts were starting to light up. Even if he could see the lights on inside the shop, the door didn't have any sign about it being opened or closed, and he didn't want to intrude at such a late hour, but Siyeon had given him free rein to come in any time. So he pushed the door open.

"A little birdie told me you were looking for me," were the words that greeted him first thing as he entered. Minho giggled at his little joke and waited until the now frowning boy walked up to him.

"I'm still cursed, I failed," he crossed his arms and pursed his lips, trying to convey with his eyes how displeased he was. The other boy shook his head, playfully.

"No, you succeeded," at Jisung's raised eyebrows, he added: "You lifted the curse, congratulations, but I decided to stick with you anyway."

Jisung was left gaping, eyes wide open, incredulity written in capital letters in his face.

"You... evil thing!" he exclaimed, making Minho burst out laughing. He barely made out an 'I indeed am' that the other declared in between laughs. "Why?" he whined. "Why are you so invested in tormenting me?"

Minho feigned thinking about it, but it was clear by his smirk that he knew the answer already. "Because you're an interesting human."

"Care to elaborate?" Jisung huffed, annoyed by the other's behaviour. What even made him so fascinating to a demon's eyes? His flesh? Wait, did he even eat humans? He took a step back as discreetly as he could.

"You're by far the nicest, most interesting one that's ever set foot in the store, and you didn't freak out about being involved with otherworldly creatures. Plus it's fun to mess with you, you really get scared by anything."

Why did it feel like he was being complimented in the weirdest way possible? Since he didn't know how to respond to that, he just concentrated on the last part. "That's not true. I'm not that much of a scaredy-cat."

Minho's demeanor changed drastically the moment he looked over Jisung's shoulder, eyes wide in fear, a hand brought to cover his mouth, leaning back on his seat. Jisung screeched, the sound strident even for his own ears, and turned around expecting the worse, anything that could even frighten an evil demon!

However, there was absolutely nothing there.

"Not a word," the boy faced Minho again, cheeks a bright crimson red. He couldn't believe he fell for such a silly trick, the embarassment was eating him! At least he could live with Minho laughing at him instead of him making a comment about it. "Since I made you laugh, will you now leave me in peace?"

"Nuh-uh," he shook his head in a playful manner, a giggle following right after, and Jisung swore it wasn't cute.

"At least stop making me run, it's exhausting!" and he meant the words. Even if he knew it was all happening in his dreams, his body seemed to take a toll from all the running. He had woken up, in more than one occasion, with sore, shaky legs.

"Can't do, it's part of our procedure," Minho shrugged, nonchalantly. Jisung was tired of not understanding a single thing the other said, and hopefully his face mirrored the sentiment. "How can I explain so a human like you can understand?" he mumbled, ignoring Jisung's indignant 'hey!'. "Witches' curses are kind of a punishment for humans' wrongdoings, and apart from feeding off their fears, our role is to take the reins of their chastisement, finish off the job," the lights of the store seemed to dim, the air grew tense, and the music box changed to a somber melody - trying to match Minho's sinister expression. "Nightmares yearn to slowly drive their victims crazy, deprive them of one of their most important needs, watch them lose their minds until they can only think of one possible escape," by his wicked smirk, Jisung could imagine what did that entail. A shiver ran down his spine, and he tried to swallow down his growing fear.

"B-but I'm not a delinquent," Jisung voice was small and shivery, but kept looking at the demon's stern eyes, not wavering even once. "All I did was not return a classmate's pen."

The store's brightness turned back to its normal intensity, the background melody changed back to a cheery sound. Minho's eyes were big, astonished, gaining back their warm tone as the ice they held before melted. Jisung stired uncomfortably, confused at the sudden change of demeanor.

And then the demon threw his head back and let out a loud cackle.

"Siyeon was right, you're a funny one."

He hadn't meant to sound comedic, since it was the sheer truth, but better to be in their good sides, right? Anything to keep them from eating him alive. (He should ask someday, really, but better safe than sorry).

Jisung sighed, the fatigue he had accumulated through the day finally seeping down into his bones. He almost groaned at the thought of the walk back to his dorm, the promise of his warm bed and his plushies the only thing keeping him from collapsing right on the store's wooden floor for a quick nap. He muttered a tired 'goodbye' and ignored Minho's waggish 'see you later!' as he exited the peculiar shop.

☾ °☆

Surprisingly, Jisung wasn't running.

He was well aware that he was dreaming - the unknown, blurry surroundings were the evidence for that statement - but the change of his usual fast and hurried pace left him confused for a little while. However, even if he was allowed to walk, he still felt the pull of an invisible force upon his limbs that was leading him somewhere, guiding him through the building he was seemingly in. The wooden floor and the different shades of brown feebly reminded him of InSomnia.

His legs decided to take a left turn and he found himself walking down a hallway, gently illuminated by the light coming from the large, colorless stained glass window that extended along the right side of the corridor, way farther than his eyes could catch. He was enthralled by its curious shapes, the pictures it seemed to form, and the way the glass glowed like stars on the vast night sky.

The faint sound of splatter, in sync with his every step, incited him to look down with wary curiosity. A black, viscous liquid was oozing out through the cracks of the wooden boards, steadily covering the floor like an ocean of darkness. Jisung realised with a grimace that he was barefoot, and he wanted to turn around and avoid the disgusting feeling of the liquid trying to crawl up his ankles, but the unseeable strings pulled him harder, forcing him to wander further into the soaked hallway.

The ghostly tune of a flute followed Jisung as he slowly approached the shadowy end of the corridor. He could barely make out the outline of something until he was right in front of it - it was a door, made of a dark, reddish wood, worn out over the ages. He stood there, debating with himself what to do, when the door creaked open and a hand poked out, grabbed his wrist and yanked him inside.

Jisung was pushed against a flat surface, hitting his head in the harsh, sudden movement, making his sight waver for a moment. When his vision focused again he was face to face with a pair of familiar big eyes.

But instead of the usual dread he'd feel, Jisung stomped down his foot and raised a fist, directed straight to Minho - who easily trapped his hand in a steel-like grip and smirked down at him, showing rows of pointy teeth.

Jisung was ready to let out a string of profanities when he was startled awake by the sound of his alarm, heart wildly thumping in his chest as he turned it off. Then, he proceeded to sit back down on the mattress and thought back to his recent nightmare - if it could even be called that. He had felt uneasiness, had been a little tense even, but if he compared it to the last bad dreams Minho made up for him, that one was at the bottom of the list of the scariest. No, it didn't even made it into the list.

He was confused. The demon had made it very clear that he wasn't going to leave Jisung alone anytime soon, yet he had done a very bad job at frightening him tonight. What did that mean? Was he trying to tell him something? Was Minho okay?

"Ugh," Jisung groaned at the crazy thought that crossed his mind, but even if he tried to talk himself out of it, there was no way he'd back off now.

So he went on his day. He dressed up in his favorite hoodie and met with Hyunjin to go to class together, lively chattering all the way. He took notes, laughed with his friends, and returned the borrowed books to the library. When lunch time arrived, he bought kimbap rolls in the convenience store and ate them on his way to InSomnia, all the while asking himself why was he doing such absurdity, that he was still in time to spin around and head back to campus and spend time with his group of friends. But the moment his resolution started to crack, he had already arrived to his destination.

Jisung heaved a deep sigh, shut his eyes for a long second, and pushed the door open.

Siyeon perked up on her place behind the counter at the sight of the younger, and when the little bell stopped clinking, the back door opened and Minho sticked his head out, surprise dancing in his eyes. Jisung ignored the heat creeping up his neck.

"Long time no see, Jisung," the blonde joked, stifling a laugh. The other boy raised an eyebrow and stared at the human expectantly.

Now, how was he supposed to explain that he had been worried about the demon without actually having to say it out loud?

He hesitantly walked up to the pair, avoided the girl's amused grin and stared right at the boy behind her, lips pursed. Minho, as far as he could see, was physically okay. No bandages, gauze or plasters in sight. He looked as vibrant as ever, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he silently watched Jisung studying him. If he wasn't busy searching for a hint in his dark eyes he'd probably feel embarrassed about how obvious he was being checking him out.

"Tonight's dream was anything but fearful," he started, as casually as he could, choosing his words carefully. Tried to, at least. "Are you losing faculties, old man?"

Siyeon's sudden loud cackle made him jump - he had forgotten for a moment that she was there. "Minho's still a baby demon, though! Not even a century, yet," she explained, ignoring said boy grumbling 'noona!' before he gave his attention back to Jisung, eyebrow raised. The human decided not to tease him - for now - and gulped audibly.

"Weren't you the one who wanted to free himself from the curse, return to your peaceful slumber?" he crossed his arms, the corners of his lips curving up in a devilish smirk. "Me staying was just a whim, thought of holding back a little for you, but seems like the human enjoyed his suffering a bit too much."

Jisung felt like he had just dug his own grave.

"Don't worry, look forward to tonight," Minho's adorable giggle sounded so out of place with the threat his words carried.

"Can I request a change of Nightmare?" he tried, voice so little he was barely heard, but still elicited a laugh from the other two. That probably meant a no - Jisung visibly deflated.

"They're all busy right now, so I'm afraid it can't be," Siyeon stood up, took Jisung's stool from the corner where it had been moved aside and placed it next to the counter. "I'll make tea!" she announced with a clap, and before Jisung could even protest, she left.

Minho took Siyeon's place, hands cupping his cheeks, and stared at the boy.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just planning tonight's scenario," his reply made the other boy roll his eyes. "How do you feel about blood-thirsty beasts?"

Jisung crossed his arms over the counter and hid his face there, to muffle the scream that was about to escape from his throat.

"Not a fan, huh? That's better."

"Why are you so mean?" he couldn't help but complain, face still hidden from the other's piercing gaze.

"I'm not, I was being considerate of your feelings," Jisung raised his head, trying to conceal his hopefulness. "Too bad you ruined it yourself."

The human whined, throwing his hands in the air, a chorus of 'you're really mean!' and 'I want a refund!' overpowering Minho's loud laughing. When Siyeon got back with two steaming cups of tea and placed them on the counter, the ruckus calmed down and the store gained its calmness.

"I see you two are getting along," her smile was bright and teasing. Jisung fought back a sneer (they were more like enemies at this point) and snorted when the girl slapped Minho's hand when he tried to grab a teacup.

Surprisingly, because he hadn't planned to, Jisung spent the rest of the afternoon there. The charged atmosphere from before dissipated, and the boy found himself having an unexpected good time with the other two; he discovered that Minho talked a lot, sometimes even to himself, but other times he fell silent and seemed content to just stand back and watch. Siyeon laughed a lot - at Jisung, at Minho, even at herself - and liked to sing under her breath when the conversation quietened for a moment.

He even got to ask about his dreamcatcher - what he had meant to do two days ago, but he forgot all about it when he met the face that had been plaguing his nightmares.

("It's pretty useless now that it's lost its powers, and without feathers it looks quite incomplete," Siyeon told him. "I can't give its properties back since it's meant to be a one-time use only, but I can reattach regular feathers!"

So now he had a powerless dreamcatcher with glittery, cheap black feathers.)

And for the first time, he saw a customer enter the store.

(The bell over the door clinked, interrupting Jisung's story about that one time he fell in a river and was swept away by its currents - how he got to talk about this was beyond him. The boy was rendered speechless at the imposing figure that entered; a woman with shoulder-length, pink hair that resembled the color of a sunset sky, a confident stride and head held high, she seemed to glow, illuminate the store with unnatural brightness.

Siyeon addressed her with a bow and the name Kim Yongsun. Minho bowed his head as well, so Jisung, even if he was clueless, imitated him - he guessed she was someone important by the high regard she was treated with. Siyeon quickly took a tightly wrapped box out from under the counter and presented it to the woman, who in change dropped a handful of gold coins - actual gold! - on the flat surface, the clang they made when they fell on the counter breaking the tense silence.

Once she left, Jisung felt like he could breathe again. "Who was that?"

"A solar deity," Siyeon replied, and Jisung choked on a gasp. Was that how it felt meeting a celebrity?)

But when the clock struck 6, and he realised just how many hours he had already spent at the store, his cheeks tinted red and Jisung hastily bid goodbye and left. What he had meant to be a quick stop turned out to be an improvised get together with the two supernatural beings. He wasn't too worried about the possibilities of it being dangerous - if that was the case Chan would have contacted him already to warn him -, but was it a smart move to befriend Minho? Why did he even try to?

His internal musings were cut off by his phone giving out a short buzz in his pocket. Felix had sent him a text asking about his whereabouts, a couple of seconds later followed by an invitation to his and Seungmin's dorm room where they were going to gather and order pizza. Jisung was sold over the promise of food and quickly typed an afirmative response, adding that he was on his way.

Seungmin was the one that greeted him when he knocked on their door. He grabbed Jisung by his hood and yanked him inside despite his loud complaints. Hyunjin waved a hand from his place next to Felix on the floor, where the freckled boy was too enraptured with his laptop to notice the newcomer. Changbin was curled up on Seungmin's bed, eyes on his phone, but upon noticing Jisung's arrival he sat up and fixed him with a look that made him frown.

"Were you with your boyfriend again?"

Jisung groaned at the havoc Changbin's innocent, well-intentioned question caused. Seungmin, beside him, punched his arm with unbelievable strength and Hyunjin, having risen to his feet in literally a second, was now shaking him with eyes wide open. Felix screeched something that kind of resembled a 'no way!' and proceeded to tell Jisung off for not telling them sooner.

"Hyunjin, stop!" his yell luckily stopped the boy from killing the few brain cells he had left, but still didn't deter him from having his shocked face mere centimeters from his.

"When were you going to tell us, Han Jisung, I thought we were best friends!" Felix whined, scrambling to his feet. Seungmin nodded his head and punched him again, for good measure.

Jisung backtracked a couple of steps, grabbed a stray plushie that had fallen to the floor and threw it to the unsuspecting Changbin - the originator of all of his problems. "Could you all stop? I don't have a boyfriend, hyung has it all wrong!"

Said hyung huffed and crossed his arms. "Yeah, right, then who have you been visiting so much lately," the way he said it was more of a demand than a question. Jisung sighed, but he didn't have any other option but explain what has been going on lately, did he?

"Okay, boys, get comfortable and buckle up because this is going to be a wild ride."

When Jisung finished his story, it didn't prove to be as dramatic as he had pictured it. His friends just laughed at his misfortunes, but luckily dropped the topic of his unexistent relationship with Minho.

And the question everyone had in mind was if Jisung would return to the store soon.

The answer came the next day, when he was awoken thirty minutes before his alarm thanks to a very scary, very bloody dream courtesy of Minho, and Jisung went straight to InSomnia after his classes to bicker with the demon, who gladly antagonized Jisung out of pure entertainment.

☾ °☆

Jisung blinked his eyes open and found himself in the same forest he dreamt about days ago; this time, however, he wasn't running. He was sat between bushes, twigs with thorns that curled around his arms and legs and pricked his skin just scarcely, a silent threat for him to stay still.

So he was resigned to look around - but there wasn't much to see. He was alone, in the shadows the trees around him casted, save for the little rays of moon he could see between the foliages. The forest was eerily quiet and strange-looking, like the product of a creative imagination and not reality. The longer he observed his surroundings, his vision started adapting to the forest's darkness - until he noticed the white, glowing spheres, hidden between trees, watching Jisung like an unsuspecting prey.

His heart picked up and his breath got caught in his throat. Everywhere he glanced the eyes were staring right back at him. He moved his arm from an uncomfortable position and heard a low growling reverberate through the forest. Jisung froze, clenched his jaw to avoid making any noise and tried to calm the thumping in his chest.

He closed his eyes for a long second, and when they opened, Minho stood in front of him, peering down at him with a wide grin, gleaming eyes and a pair of fluffy cat ears atop his head. Jisung had an inkling feeling that the way his heart started racing faster again was for an entirely different reason - whatever that was he wasn't ready to face it yet. So he settled for something that felt more like himself.

"Are you a furry?"

Minho's eyes opened impossibly wider, making its vertical slits more visible. Jisung maintained his frown, attempting to conceal his growing fear that he'd fucked up with his joke - who the hell cracks a joke when they're about to possibly be murdered?

But then the demon brought a hand to his mouth (of course, it resembled a cat's claws), and stiffled a giggle, eyes turning into crescent moons at the force of his smile, until his laughing got so loud and uncontrolable that it managed to wake Jisung up.

The boy laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling softly illuminated by the rising sun and a little smile forming in his lips. He wasn't even mad that he had been woken up at such an early hour on a Saturday, even if this was going to be his last weekend of doing nothing before he started studying next week for his upcoming exams.

His phone gave a short ding on his bedside table. Chan had sent him a text inviting him to breakfast at the café near campus (with the best cheesecake in the whole city, in Jisung's humble opinion). How Chan knew he was awake escaped him, but he wasn't going to turn down free food.

They met there and talked about the songs they were working on right now, and future projects they had in mind. Jisung gobbled his cheesecake in record time, which caused him a mild stomach ache that made Chan laugh. But then he bought him a hot chocolate and Jisung decided he was his favorite hyung again.

However, as they parted ways and Chan went somewhere and Jisung returned to his room, he couldn't help but feel confused - he had expected Chan to ask about Minho, one way or another, or even about his still ongoing nightmares, but none of these topics were touched in their conversation. He didn't know if that meant Chan was already aware of everything or he just deemed it not important.

Back in his room, he passed time reading a book until lunch time, when he went out to the nearest convenience store to buy the cheapest meal he could find. On his way back he met Felix and stayed with the freckled boy for a while, munching on his sandwich and stealing his friend's fries (which wasn't actually stealing because Felix happily let him do). When he returned to the safety of his room, he decided he deserved a nap - since this would probably be the last time in weeks he'd be able to have such privileges.

And he dreamt of a big stage, blinding lights, and a roaring crowd. Chan and Changbin next to him, each of them with a microphone in hand and the biggest smiles they could sport. The rest of their friends cheering loudly from the first row, teary-eyed, but shouting words of encouragement that managed to be heard over the excited multitude. The first beats of a song Jisung knew by heart, one they had worked really hard to polish and make perfect, started, and the boy lost himself to the music and performed to his heart's content.

Three songs later, sweating and breathing heavily yet feeling happiness bloom in his chest, the lights dimmed until the whole stage was engulfed in darkness. Jisung called out for his hyungs, his friends, to no avail. He strained his ears for something but the only thing he could hear was his erratic heartbeat. Suddenly a focus of light was directed at his face, blinding him for a few seconds. When his vision returned, it was to an empty, silent place.

He looked left and right, reiterated times, until he felt something soft impact with force against his cheek that made him halt for a moment. He brought a hand to his face and found a bright red substance that he belatedly recognized as a smashed tomato. His frown deepened when he heard a giggle; his eyes followed the direction of the sound and couldn't help but roll his eyes when he saw Minho, looking as amused as usual and carrying a ridiculous amount of tomatoes in his arms.

Jisung scoffed, turned around, and closed his eyes tightly shut - since he was aware that he was dreaming, he thought of trying waking up on his own. He tuned out the demon's complaints and counted up to ten in his head. The moment he finished, he felt his eyes flutter open and he was staring at the afternoon sunlight that filtered through his window. He sat up and winced at his cracking back from having slept in an uncomfortable position. The alarm clock on his bedside table showed it was nearing 6pm, and his eyes widened in shock. No wonder he actually had a dream with how long he'd slept.

Jisung frowned. There was something nagging him - he was sure the beggining of his dream was his own mind's doing, since it was something he'd dreamt about plenty of times before (a dream he was hoping it'd come true someday), but at some point Minho had managed to take control and turn everything upside down. That had frustrated him, but also he felt mortified; this topic was something he hadn't disclosed to the demon before, because he was afraid of his reaction, his opinion of him. Not like it mattered or anything.

But curiosity got the best of him, and when his mind caught up with his acts, he was already tying his shoes and putting on a jacket.

He knew the way to InSomnia like the palm of his hand, so it didn't surprise him the fact that while he had been deep in thought, his legs had managed to carry him to the store. And as he entered, he wasn't surprised either to find a smiling Siyeon with a teacup waiting for him and the same stool on its usual place. How she even knew when was he coming every time remained a mystery. The moment he plopped down in the seat, the back door opened.

Jisung's shoulders tensed at the sight of Minho, and he felt his ears turn a bright red. The demon raised an eyebrow and took Siyeon's place when she stood up to announce she was going to make herself some tea - Jisung immediately comprehended she was just making excuses to leave them both for a few minutes to talk privately. Really, what did Siyeon know?

But the moment she left, the store became as silent as a graveyard. Jisung couldn't stop fidgeting his hands, kind of regretting coming there on a whim, yet wanting to approach the issue somehow. The question was how to.

Fortunately, Minho was the one to break the ice.

"That was a nice dream," he smiled, and Jisung couldn't tell if he was mocking him or actually being serious, and shockingly, being kind. "That nap took me by surprise, almost didn't make it in time," his laugh was gentle, lacking its usual devilish tone, and it was sweet and pleasant.

"You didn't have to come," Jisung scoffed, and turned to stare at the outside world, at the soft afternoon light slowly dimming with the sunset approaching. He didn't see Minho nod.

"You did really well."

Jisung looked back at him with big eyes, surprised at the sincere words that had fallen from the demon's lips, now curled up into a sheepish smile.

"You mean it, for real?" he asked, leaning forward to look at him better. The other nodded again, and let out a surprised laugh at the sudden frown in Jisung's face. "Then why did you throw tomatoes?"

"Surprise element, thought it'd would spice up the dream. You didn't expect it, right?" his cocky smirk made an appearance, making Jisung roll his eyes. Still, he couldn't fight the smile that made its way to his lips, happy with the positive reaction Minho had and feeling all worry leave his body. But, again, it's not like it mattered.

Siyeon deemed it a good time to return then, with a big plate full of chocolate chip cookies that made Jisung drool and forget the previous conversation. And like the last time, between laughs, continuous chatter and a delicious snack, the hours seemed to fly by, and when he finally sneaked a glance at the clocks in the wall, it was nearing 9pm. Jisung scrambled to his feet, and dusted cookie crumbs off his jeans.

"It's late, I should head home," he explained, already walking to the entrance. He was about to say goodbye when Minho interrupted him.

"Do you need me to walk you home?" he smiled playfully, tone teasing. As if he knew Jisung was going to decline his offer (which he did with a quick shake of his head and sticking his tongue out), he didn't even stand up. "Where do you live, though? Is it close?"

"I'm not telling you, you evil demon," he all but crossed his arms, no real bite to his words. He was about to open the door when Siyeon's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Wait Jisungie," the words were almost sung, like a beautiful, mellow, yet menacing melody, that made his mind go blank. "Will you tell noona where do you live?"

It was embarrasing how fast he replied (with full detailed information that wasn't even necessary) and he only belatedly realised on his way back, hand smacking his forehead and cursing the Siren under his breath for tricking him with her powers.

He shoot Chan a text, teeth worrying his bottom lip: 'Hyung, is it dangerous that I let a demon know where I live?'.

And Chan's reply came once he was back in his room: 'I'm glad you're making friends, Jisungie'.

☾ °☆

The following week was packed with studying for midterms, last-moment assignments and papers and fleeting, almost daily visits to InSomnia (which Jisung would deny happened that often). But when he'd get too fidgety or his mind was too blocked to continue or it had simply been a bad day and he needed a mood boost, his go-to place turned out to be the store. The tea Siyeon prepared helped calm his overwhelmed mind and bickering with Minho, though playfully, made him forget for a while about his responsibilities and keeping up his grades and trying not to disappoint anyone.

And it's not like his friends weren't a good comfort, which they were, but they were also affected by exam season stress and Jisung didn't want to bother them any more than that. Besides, they were continuously together, between classes, study groups or late night phone calls panicking because 'Oh my god I can't remember a thing I'm going to fail' and 'Go the fuck to sleep it's 1am'.

In addition to that, Minho had started to try to tone down his nightmares - keyword try, because what he deemed as not scary still frightened Jisung to a certain point. If they sat down one day and brainstormed ideas that the demon could use in a future, Siyeon would not divulge such information.

Then the week passed, uneventfully, and as the first exam approached he could feel fear crawl up his skin. Which was stupid - he had revised his notes countless of times, read them time after time until he could recite the entire thing by memory, yet he felt unprepared. So he somehow managed to convince Seungmin to pull an all-nighter to study and have everything fresh in mind in time for the early morning exam the following day. Would he regret that? Likely, but at that time that seemed like a genius idea.

He took the exam with more caffeine in his body that was probably considered healthy and left, two hours later, feeling like he could have done better. But what was done was done, as Seungmin kindly reminded him. Jisung nodded, heaved a tired sigh, and followed him to the library where Hyunjin and Felix where studying last minute for their exam. When they got out, in time for lunch, the four of them headed to the café he last visited with Chan. And maybe cake and iced tea weren't exactly a good lunch menu but he deserved it! Until Felix forced him to eat half of his vegetable sandwich.

By the time he was walking back to his room, after spending a little while more in the library, it was nearing 6pm. Hyunjin, who had decided to tag along just so he could borrow a book, was animatedly talking to Jisung while the later could barely keep his eyes open - if he wasn't as sleep deprived, you could bet he'd be as lively as his friend.

"Oh," his friend exclaimed, halting in his steps. Jisung stopped walking as well and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "There's someone on your door."

There was indeed someone leaning against his door, arms crossed and head hung low. It took Jisung a few seconds to recognize the honey-colored strands, but in time for its owner to snap his head up and glare at him. Jisung froze, barely a couple of meters away from his door, and almost didn't notice Hyunjin patting his shoulder and making a hasty exit.

"Minho?"

As fast as the name left his mouth, the demon closed the distance between the two and towered over Jisung like he'd done many other times in his nightmares. He felt small, scared, but mostly confused by the other's behaviour. This was the most anger he'd ever seen in his features, not to say never, and having that rage directed at Jisung shocked him, for he couldn't think of a single reason that could have annoyed the demon like this.

"Where were you?" the question had a low, bone-chilling tone that made the hair rise in the back of his neck. Jisung blinked, and somehow managed to answer despite the tremble in his voice.

"I-in the library, with my friends," his eyes got impossibly wider as Minho leaned closer, squinting his eyes like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

"Not that, at night."

Jisung tilted his head, bemused, until he connected the dots in his mind and opened his mouth in a silent oh.

"Stayed up all night to study for an exam," he admitted, rather sheepishly, and nothing could have prepared him for what followed: Minho visibly deflated, closed his eyes and let his forehead hit Jisung's shoulder. Despite the dull pain he felt from the impact, he didn't dare move, no matter how confused he still was.

"I thought you were avoiding me," muttered the demon, low enough that Jisung almost didn't catch it. But before he could reply Minho raised his head again and stared at him with a blank expresion, no trace of his earlier anger left.

Jisung racked his brain in search of any kind of indication of what to do in such a situation; even considered texting Chan for help, but quickly turned it down when the demon just kept looking at him in silence, like he was waiting for something.

Oh right! Where were his manners!

"Would you like to come in?" he didn't even wait for an answer and walked up to his door, holding it open for the other. Minho followed him with unsure steps, but still accepting his offer without a word.

So they sat there, Minho on the bed and Jisung on his desk chair, sinking in the awkward silence that enveloped them. Which was new - ever since they met every single second was filled with talking, and even the rare moment that conversation died down it felt comfortable, natural.

"You live alone," Jisung almost burst out laughing at the demon's obvious attempt at breaking the ice, but was instead glad he wasn't the only one feeling suffocated with the tense silence.

"Yeah, used to share with my friend, Hyunjin, but our room got flooded in the beginning of the year and we got relocated to single rooms," he explained, bringing his legs up to prop his chin between his knees. Minho nodded, and continued looking around the room - all the books and notebooks and papers that littered every flat surface, the colorful posters and the shiny yet useless dreamcatcher decorating the walls, the collection of plushies on his bed, the opened closet and the mess of clothing inside, even some garments scattered through the floor alongside- was that candy wrappers? In Jisung's defence, he was going to throw them away later.

He ignored Minho's muttered 'nice room' and decided to address what the other had said before.

"I wasn't avoiding you," when he was met with the demon's stare he felt his cheeks flush, but pretended they were not. "Thought I'd clarify."

He realised, though belatedly, that his anger had only been masking his real feelings - he'd been worried about Jisung; and he didn't know how that made him feel.

"Don't do that again, Jisung, it's not good for your health," it sounded almost ironic how concerned he was for his sleep quality when he was the cause of most of his nights lying awake.

"I won't," Jisung placed a hand over his chest and nodded his head earnestly.

"Good, 'cause I have plenty of ideas of dreams that I want to put into action," the demon smirked. Jisung fought against a bubble of laughter that wanted to escape his throat and instead frowned at the other boy.

"What am I? Your guinea pig?" he rolled his eyes, and when he noticed the big, Cheshire grin on Minho's face, he spoke up again to add: "Don't you dare mention my cheeks."

"Wasn't going to."

He had definitely been going to, he could tell.

That weird little scene at the beginning was pushed aside and everything fell back into place again, like usual - their frisky, light-hearted quarrels, the laughter, the constant chatter. Minho left not so long after, and while Jisung - finally - tidied up his room, his mind was elsewhere. He had the fleeting feeling that something was slowly but steadily developing, a flower timidly opening after the cold winter and welcoming the warmth of spring.

☾ °☆

Midterms passed by in the blink of an eye, and finally, Jisung was free. Tired but content with the couple of days he had before resuming classes, he was intending on spending them celebrating with his friends and sleeping (as many hours as Minho would let him). Right after their last exam the group of friends feasted on korean barbecue and went to a noraebang, where they sang and laughed and shouted the lyrics until their throats hurt.

Jisung went to bed with a smile on his face, sleep rapidly coming to him after the tiredness he had accumulated through the day kicked in.

His eyes fluttered open. He found himself in a dimly lit room, sat before a large, rectangular table with a silky white tablecloth and candelabra over it. Jisung played with the edge of the expensive cloth as he surveyed the room, squinting at the darkness the light of the candles couldn't reach.

The moment he blinked, the previously empty table was filled with mouth-watering dishes and a round, creamy cake right in front of Jisung. Despite how hungry the sight before him made him (his stomach growling just at the thought of tasting a slice of the sweet dish), he narrowed his eyes in suspicion and looked around.

The candles' flames wavered, accompanying the sound of a mischievous laugh he heard behind him - the vibrant sound was no doubt Minho. But before Jisung could turn around to glare at the demon, and maybe stick his tongue out at him, a hand was placed at the back of his head and it pushed forward. Jisung's face hit the spongy surface of the cake and the moment he tried to gasp for air, his eyes opened to the soft dawn light filtering through his window.

Instead of fuming - which he had every right to! He deserved at least a day worth of sleep! - Jisung burst out laughing; mindful of his possibly still sleeping neighbours he covered his mouth with a hand. He felt incredulous yet delighted - was that Minho's way of congratulating him for surviving the stressing exam period? I mean, there was a cake (even if it ended up on his face and not his stomach). However, he woke up in a good mood, and predicting that his friends would be getting their well-needed rest until way past lunch time, Jisung decided to spend his morning at InSomnia. But just because he craved Siyeon's fancy teas.

On the way to the store he stopped at the bakery to buy a few pastries to share with the other two, and while he walked the remaining streets to arrive, he happily ate his portion.

The smile that was plastered on his face quickly faded as he noticed the dark aura surrounding the shop - despite the sunlight brightening the whole street, it seemed like InSomnia was buried under the shadow of a thick storm cloud. Not even the clink of the little bell over the door as he entered gave him the usual sense of calmness, and Jisung tensed at the heated shouts he could hear.

A brawny, tall man banged his fists at the counter as he yelled at a slightly smaller woman Jisung had never seen around the store - her hair was a vibrant magenta color and her features were completely devoid of emotion, which frightened him more than the visibly angry man.

Siyeon stood behind her, glaring at the man, and he spotted Minho leaning on the wall, ready to step in if the situation got out of hand.

"You crazy Witch! What the hell are you doing to me!" the man yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the woman. "This is driving me insane!"

"Sir, I advice you lower your voice and calm down before you regret your actions," she calmly replied, not even flinching when the man leaned forward and got too close to her face.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do," he hissed. "I'll make you regret what you did!"

The man raised his fist and moved to hit her; but the woman stopped the punch just as composedly, with unbelievable strength that made Jisung widen his eyes, taken aback.

"You must atone for your sins, pay the price of your actions, you filthy human."

As the words were uttered, tone low and detached, the store grew darker, icy, shapes distorting and shadows elongating in every corner, watching over the scene with interest. Jisung felt his heart thundering, fear clawing at his chest, even if he was well aware that the threat wasn't even directed at him.

The man audibly gulped and struggled against her hold, until the woman released his fist and he took a couple of steps back, head held high but hands violently shaking.

"I hope you rot in Hell," he spat, but the moment she raised an eyebrow, he was quick to spin around and hurry out of the store, bumping shoulders with Jisung in his haste. The boy wobbled and propped a hand over a mountain of books to avoid losing balance.

"I give it two days until he breaks down."

Jisung accidentally threw the stacked books to the floor, which seemed to alert the others of his presence.

Siyeon giggled softly and motioned him to leave the books and approach them, and he complied, glancing warily at the unknown woman. But then she smiled, her face softening and brightening the shop, a warm, friendly look on her eyes; and Jisung was beyond confused at such stark contrast, he even wondered if this was the same person.

"Hello, little one, welcome to my store," Jisung was too stunned to scowl for calling him little. "My name's Minji."

The name sounded familiar, somehow.

"Han Jisung," he replied, voice meek. Minji nodded, and he had the feeling she already knew his name.

"Nice meeting you, Jisung. Well, I'll take my leave now, then," with a last, amiable smile, she exited through the back door, Siyeon following her with a promise of tea directed at him.

Jisung heaved a sigh.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that," Minho spoke up, placing the stool next to the counter for the boy to sit.

He shrugged. "Well, it was entertaining. Was that man cursed?" Minho nodded. "Would that have happened to me as well, then?"

The demon shook his head. "No. You're a good guy, Jisung."

"Thank you, I guess," the other waved a dismissing hand and moved to pick up the fallen books, humming the melody of the music box under his breath. Jisung watched him work, arm propped on the counter and cheek resting on the palm of his hand, trying to remember when had he heard Minji's name before. Then it dawned on him. "She's also a Nightmare!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, took you long enough," Minho didn't even look up but Jisung could see his teasing smile from his stool.

"I'm sorry I asked for a change of Nightmare. She's scarier, I'll stick with you, thank you," the demon burst out laughing at his words, the cheery sound reverberating through the store.

"You're forgiven," he stated, returning to his place behind the counter, and the way he had said it gave away that he didn't even take offence at what Jisung used to say. "By the way, when will your grades be published?"

"Hopefully on Monday. I'll keep you updated."

"What made you think I wanna know?" the demon raised an eyebrow, Jisung mimicked him.

"What made you think I'll tell you?"

Their improvised staring contest was interrupted when Siyeon came back with two steaming cups of tea, one of which she placed in front of Jisung. "No fighting here or I'll make you two dust all the clocks on the wall," she chastised, tone lighthearted that gave away her threat was empty.

"That reminds me," Jisung started, after sipping from his tea - it was minty and refreshing. "Why so many clocks? Are they, like, magical? Can we travel back in time? I wanna change some answers from an exam."

"I'm afraid not, Jisung, they're regular wall clocks. We just collect them," Siyeon's response was disappointingly boring.

"Do you have cool stuff, then? Like a spell book! I want to see one!" he clapped his hands, enthusiastic, but his smile quickly turned into a pout at the woman's refusal.

"You're not a Witch, Jisung, just a mere human. We can't take any risks," Siyeon explained. "We don't want you to accidentally turn Minho into a toad, even if that would be hilarious," her teasing words made said boy scowl.

"But there must be something that I can buy, it doesn't have to be anything grand," he whined, eyes browsing the store in search for anything that'd catch his attention.

Minho laughed. "Weren't you the one complaining about an empty wallet?" but his words fell on deaf ears as Jisung continued glancing at the shelves from his place on the stool, as if he could see anything from such distance.

Siyeon placed a hand on Minho's shoulder, and smiled at Jisung. "Well, we recently received something that may interest you," she announced, amused, before taking out a box from a drawer on the counter. When she opened the lid, the boy gaped at the heap of colorful, shiny jewels. "These crystals have special properties. They were found near a dragon's nest and bathed under the light of a full moon, so they are highly valuable," she carefully grabbed a red, round one and examined it close by. Jisung was hanging on to every word. "This one's perfect for you. Red's the color of good luck, and having this around will surely help with your grades. Now, since it's you, I'll lower the price, don't miss the opportunity!"

Jisung returned home with his new jewel tucked in a small velvety bag with the store's logo. And when he met with his friends after lunch and proudly showed Chan his new purchase, he stated its decorative and fake nature, not an ounce of magic properties in it. Jisung couldn't help but blame Siyeon for tricking and scamming him again using her powers, even if he was the one to embarrassingly fall for it.

☾ °☆

Jisung collided face-first with a wall, fell on his butt, and quickly scrambled to his feet to continue running.

There were no invisible strings, no unknown force controlling his moves, but a nagging feeling in the back of his mind was telling him to run, run, run before it was too late. For what? Jisung wasn't sure, he just knew he had a bad feeling.

The problem, however, was that he was inside a maze - surrounded by tall, stony walls, and dark, meandering paths, barely illuminated by the sea of glowing stars and the full moon high in the sky. As he ran into the fifth dead-end, his desperation grew bigger.

The loud pounding of his heart, like the ticking of a clock, was the reminder that he was running out of time. He willed his legs to move faster, and hoped to be following the correct route that'd lead him to the cause of his dread.

Jisung rounded a corner and stopped right in his tracks, panting, eyes wide. In front of him was a long, straight path bathed in the moonlight, and at the very end, before it opened to a larger area, there was a figure crouched down, head held between their hands. Despite the long distance that separated them, he could see the silhouette of the person perfectly, the way their shoulders trembled and the way they shook their head.

Jisung's breath caught in his throat when the figure glanced at him - Minho's face was covered in blood and dirt, eyes dark and absent, without trace of their usual mirth. The demon sat up, wobbling a little at the sudden movement, and with a hand holding his side, he raised the other to Jisung's direction, who rapidly took off running towards him. The closer he got, the clearer he could see Minho's pale, lifeless face, but despite his efforts and how fast he wanted to move, it seemed like everything happened in slow motion.

The hand pointing at Jisung started fading, disappearing like dust swept away by a gust of wind. The demon seemed to accept his fate and closed his eyes, just as his body started vanishing from view. Jisung screamed, fighting back tears that obstructed his vision, and threw himself at the other boy; he fell, rolled on the gravel floor and scraped his hands and knees - Minho was gone.

Jisung startled awake, short of breath, the ghost of a scream in the back of his throat. He brought a shaking hand to his face and wiped at the spilled tears, still steadily falling from his eyes. Vision blurry he couldn't see the time on the clock clearly, but by the soft light coming from his window he guessed it was some time before seven.

All rational thought was clouded by the fear rooted in his heart. Jisung got out of bed, changed his sleepwear for sweatpants and a hoodie, and left his room - only to come back when he realised he forgot shoes. Hands deep in the hoodie pockets, he made his way to InSomnia with fast strides, ignoring the passersby's looks of concern at his red, distressed eyes and trembling shoulders.

Although it was too early in the morning and most establishments were still closed, when he tried to push the door open it gave in. The little bell's tinkle managed to soothe his nerves a little bit, enough for him to look where he was going and dodge the pile of unopened boxes that blocked the entrance.

"Jisung?" the surprised call of his name made him look up, where a confused Minho was behind the counter, forgotten book in his hands. Jisung sniffed and hurriedly closed the distance, throwing his arms around the demon's torso, who stiffened at the unexpected physical contact. "Hey, what's wrong? Did you get cursed again?"

Jisung ignored his little joke and squeezed the boy a little harder - the solidity of the body between his arms was the only assurance he needed that Minho was okay, he was there, he wasn't fading away. When he felt fingers carding through his tangled hair, he let out a choked sound and burrowed his face into the other's neck.

"It's okay," he whispered, quietly, letting Jisung calm down at his own pace. A few minutes later, the boy drew in a breath and stepped back, but hands clutching at the demon's jacket tightly. When Minho attempted to move backwards to leave more room between their bodies, Jisung shook his head and pouted. He wanted to see his face up-close, confirm that his eyes still held their playfulness and gleam, and weren't anything like he remembered from his dream.

"Don't leave," it took Minho a while to understand why the boy was acting so uncharacteristically, but when he put two and two together, he frowned, the guilt he felt evident in his features.

"I'm sorry, Jisung, didn't think it'd affect you like this," his heartfelt words made new tears spring to his eyes, so he quickly turned his face and blinked repeatedly. Now that his distress subsided, he was torn between feeling abashed or calm - yet that didn't deter his cheeks from heating up. His embarrassment only got worse when he realised he was still clinging to the demon's jacket with all his might. But, much to his astonishment, Minho didn't laugh at him, there wasn't even a sly smile on his face, he was just watching him carefully, a foreign look in his eyes Jisung couldn't name. "Wait here," Minho patted the stool behind the counter, and when he made sure Jisung followed his request, he left through the back door.

Jisung grabbed a tissue from a little box he saw under the counter and blew his nose, making as much noise as possible to keep his mind distracted. Not long after, Minho came back holding an old, brown box in his hands, wiping the top clean with the sleeve of his jacket.

"This is for you," were the only words he said before he pushed the box into Jisung's arms, face expressionless but watching him attentively. The boy nodded, and lifted the lid - inside, surprisingly, because he didn't know what to expect, was a dreamcatcher. Similar to the one Siyeon sold him over a month ago, this one had a hoop covered in faded leather cord, the same pattern inside made of silver strings and iridescent beads, and had nine tiny mint-colored feathers.

"It's ugly," Jisung muttered, and snickered when he heard Minho gasp.

"Excuse me, but this one is special," at the sceptical look the other boy sent him, he added: "I'm not fooling you like Siyeon did, it really is. I made it myself," his voice lowered slightly, sounding sweet as honey, disclosing a secret only for Jisung to hear. "I'm gifting this to you, so I can watch over you and guard your dreams, and ensure you never cry again."

Jisung was rendered speechless; which, truthfully, never happened. Whatever the demon implied with his promise he couldn't get his head around, so he just settled for nodding and hugging the dreamcatcher close to his heart.

☾ °☆

The answer to his confused thoughts came a couple days later.

When Jisung became aware of his surroundings, he immediately knew he was dreaming.

The first thing he noticed was the brightness that made his eyes squint, a stark contrast to the dark, creepy places Minho normally based his nightmares on. When his vision returned, he was amazed by the bright range of colors that encircled him - the emerald green of the grass under his feet, the rainbow of flowers that were silky at touch. Upon closer look, the second detail he took notice of was his clothing, what extravagant garments was he wearing! Lace that decorated the cuffs of his white shirt, made of the softest fabric he'd ever worn, tucked in blue dress pants, and, shockingly, an apron snugly tied around his waist, ruffles sewn along the hem and two big pockets at the front. Jisung raised a hand to brush back the strands that had fallen to his eyes, and got startled when his fingers grazed something else that wasn't his hair. He grabbed it, and chuckled when he found a headband with a black bow. The whole scenario seemed familiar, and he couldn't wait to discover what else was in store for him.

His eyes scanned the clearing he was in once more, and right at the edge where a deep forest started, he observed the opening of a path he didn't see before, next to a wooden sign with the words 'this way!' carved into the surface. Jisung decided to follow the indication, and after making sure the headband was back in place, he set off.

He walked for an endless, tiring while - taking turn after turn, hopping over fallen trunks, getting distracted at butterflies that flew close by - until he finally reached another clearing. This one, however wasn't as empty as the previous one. Descending a couple of stone steps, Jisung stood before a long table, enclosed by mismatched chairs, each as bizarre as the other, and a crazy amount of sweets scattered everywhere he looked. Right at the head of the table, at the other side, he met the smirk of the demon he had been waiting to see.

"Took you long enough," Jisung ignored his teasing, trying to stifle his laughter when he noticed the costume Minho was wearing - a top hat, made of patches of different fabrics and textures, that looked too big to be comfortable, a worn down jacket over an argyle shirt with flashy colors, and a big, matching bow on the collar. He looked ridiculously cute. "Would you fancy some tea?"

Jisung took a seat in the chair to the demon's left, it was springy and too high and his feet didn't touch the ground. "Are you trying something new? This doesn't seem like your style at all."

"Hey! I've been reading lots of books lately to get inspired, and thought a tea party would be perfect to cheer you up," he gestured to the table before him, the pastries, the muffins with colorful icing and rainbow sprinkles, the cookies and other sweet treats that were sure to give him a toothache. But it all shifted to the background as he registered Minho's words - Jisung had indeed been feeling down that week, after his grades were published and despite the general good marks, he had felt insatisfied with one of his exams' result, felt like he deserved a little more. He even went to talk with the teacher about it, but the man only gave excuses about words Jisung mispelled or sentences he couldn't understand, and he felt powerless at such injustice. However, just the fact that the demon was trying to bring a smile to his face, made something warm and pleasant flutter inside his chest.

"Bring the tea, then."

Minho clapped his hands three times, sonorously, and Jisung screeched when something suddenly jumped to the table. But then relaxed and watched with mild entertainment how an orange, fluffy cat elegantly carried a teapot (without spilling its contents!) to where they were seated.

"Good girl, Soonie," the demon patted the cat's fur, scratching it under the chin to hear its pur. Minho served the tea in small, porcelain cups that appeared to hold more liquid that it was possible. Jisung grimaced when he saw the boy take out a few sugarcubes from a pocket of his jacket and added a couple to each cup. "Teaspoons!" he exclaimed, and another, smaller cat appeared holding said items in its mouth. "Thank you, Dori," the cat meowed in response and joined the other at the side, accidentally stepping on a muffin's icing that made both boys laugh.

"Are they your little helpers today?" he asked, before taking a sip of his tea - it was fruity and had some floral notes, he'd have to ask Siyeon to prepare it another time.

Minho nodded, munching on a cookie. "Yeah. There's also Doongie, but she's been acting a bit rebellious lately and is now hiding under the table," when Jisung made as if to rise the tablecloth to look under, the demon stopped him placing a hand over his. "If I were you I wouldn't, she's gonna claw at your face."

Jisung could only but focus his attention on the demon's hand lightly holding his, and wondered how would that feel like outside a dream.

So the next time he visited InSomnia, and while Siyeon left them alone at the front of the store for a few minutes, Jisung grabbed Minho's hand. It felt nice, filled his chest with warmth, and when the demon squeezed his hand back, he felt something in his heart stir with happiness.

From that point onwards, holding hands felt like the most natural thing in the world. Whenever they had a little moment for themselves, or Jisung was feeling sad, or happy, or Minho needed to feel the other close to him - their fingers would find the other's and intertwine.

They never talked about that - about what did that mean for them, for their relationship. But not because they didn't want to, they weren't against whatever feelings they were developing, but because words weren't needed. They just let it flow at its own pace, no rush, watching it slowly, but surely, bloom into the most beautiful flower.

☾ °☆

"It's getting late."

The street lamp posts had already been on for a while, the sky dark and the night silent. Jisung had just been putting going home off for as long as he could (before Siyeon kindly commanded him to leave). But the store was so cozy, and calm, and he could just curl up in a corner and-

"Let's go home, okay?"

Minho extended a hand, lips curving up in a sweet smile, and what was Jisung supposed to do? Say no?

So Minho walked him to his dorm room, like he had been doing every time he stayed a little too late in the store (and when he didn't, too). And like many other times, Jisung invited him inside. The demon got himself at home on his bed while he went to brush his teeth and change into his sleepwear, and when he returned, comfortably tucked in bed, he presented a hand to an amused Minho.

"Will you hold my hand?" he asked, fighting against a yawn. "In case I have a nightmare."

Minho laughed, careful to keep his voice down, and laced their fingers together. Jisung smiled, closed his eyes, and let himself slowly drift off, feeling safe and cared for as the demon stroked his hair.

"Baby, good night."