Chapter Text
The vision itself is nothing unusual to start with. Premonition is the gift of the Min family, though still only some inherit it, much like the unfortunate displeased resting expression. Yoongi had begun to show signs at a young age. Little things at first, a comment about the weather that turned out to be true later while the meteorologists said differently, knowing to wait a moment too long before crossing the street for a car no one else knew was going to run the red light.
Yoongi started seeing further into the future the older he got. He grew to understand his dreams, which showed visions, which meant nothing. He wrote them all down in notebooks and kept them close. Sometimes he was able to tell when the visions would happen, days or weeks in advance. Though this was the first time he had seen himself in a dream so vividly.
He was almost never in his own dreams, something to do with self-gain and balance that he never fully understood or agreed with. Even when he was in them, he wasn’t the focus, more an observer of the events only he knew for sure would unfold.
This time is different.
This time, he sees his living room and he’s quite sure it’s his. Who else would have that specific arrangement of mismatched furniture scavenged from yard sales and books overflowing onto every possible flat surface capable of holding them? Except there are subtle differences to it, just enough to leave Yoongi with an uneasy feeling. The floor is a mess of chalk dust and burn marks. His books look like someone’s put actual effort into making them have some kind of sensical arrangement. And there’s someone on his sofa. Someone who is covered in tattoos; whose entire appearance clashes violently with the interior of Yoongi’s home. Despite that, he looks very much like he belongs there on the sofa, book resting on his legs, steaming mug in his hand, bare feet up on the coffee table that, for possibly the first time since entering Yoongi’s apartment, is not weighed down with books. He looks up at Yoongi, dream Yoongi, and smiles. And for a split second, his eyes are red, skin purple, horns curling from his forehead, yet he is still smiling fondly.
Yoongi wakes up with that image burned into his mind and his cat landing heavily on his chest.