4.6 | Dark Ages ✓

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+ 0 0 : 0 9

TIME STOPS WHEN he's with her.

No longer does it move forward or backward. Instead, it suspends by a thin thread. As he stands on the bridge in the same spot where he'd saved her five years ago, he thinks of tossing the Cypher into the river.

If I leave, he thinks, will I ever find you in my future?

She sidles up to him, still immersed in the scrap of paper he'd given to her. On it are the time-jumps that Hoseok had written out for him. He lets her keep it. After all, his job here in the past is done.

"Jimin, Seokjin, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jungkook—they will arrive in this order, starting with Jimin about two weeks from now," he says, pointing to each number accordingly. "I need you to drop the wards in the house when they arrive, so that they'll be safe."

With a look of focused determination on her face, she pens down his instructions into her notebook before looking back up at him. "And what about all those numbers in between?" she asks. "Thirty, twenty-five, twenty, fifteen, ten years ago. Are those the times you saved my life?"

He is very aware that, at this moment, they're about to create another loop. "Yes," he says. "When you create the Cypher, you must send me back in time to save you, so that I can meet you in the future."

She turns away from the paper and fixes on him a brilliant smile. "I would like that."

He stops in his tracks. Gazing down at her, with sunlight threaded through her hair and eyes bright like he's just told her all the mysteries of the universe—he's suddenly struck with the realization that this is the woman he will love.

I'm looking at you and I know, with every fibre of my being, that I will someday love you.

And I will love you so much that not even time or space can keep us apart.

He takes a deep breath.

And wakes up.

Traces of tears stain his cheeks and he slowly brings a hand up to his face. After Namjoon had told him that he didn't know where she was, Taehyung had retreated to his room to puzzle over the mystery of her whereabouts all over again. He'd fallen asleep and dreamt about her—only this time, his dreams are more vivid than ever, because he'd dreamt about the last time they'd met.

Five years ago. That all happened five years ago.

But where are you now?

He turns on his side and stares blankly at the floor. Just then, something catches his eye. He blinks. There, by the foot of his bed, half-obscured by the bedside drawer, is a strange object that he's never seen before.

He reaches for it. Fingers clasped around the cool metal object, he flips it over in his hands. It's an odd contraption—shaped like a thermometer, with a red button right under the screen. If that's not a warning signal, he doesn't know what else is. Everyone knows never to press a red button unless under extreme circumstances.

And if I press it?

The sound of footsteps stop him. It's Namjoon. Quickly, he shoves the device under his pillow and turns over to face the wall. The footsteps slow as Namjoon nears his bed, and he doesn't react when his brother prods him on the shoulder.

"Go away," he mumbles.

"Stop sulking." He can almost hear Namjoon rolling his eyes as he speaks. "Seokjin was right—you're like a baby trapped in a man's body, and I should've listened whenever he told me not to let you have your way. Now get up and drink your coffee, or would you like me to find a milk bottle to feed you, you big baby?"

Without looking, he grabs his pillow and throws it at in the general direction of his brother. "That's the worst mental image I've ever had in my life. And I've created zombies."

"Well, you look worse than one now." The bed dips as Namjoon settles down on the edge of it. "There's something that I think you may want to see. It's about her."

At the mention of her, he bolts up.

This time, he does see his brother roll his eyes. "Should've known that would work," Namjoon mutters. After a moment's hesitation, he slides his laptop across the bed. "This was the last email that I received from her."

Eagerly, he reaches for it, only to be stopped when Namjoon places a warning hand on his arm.

"Taehyung," his brother says quietly. "Sometimes, things are better left in the past."

Sometimes, things are better left in the past. But he's tired of not knowing. He's forgotten so much, remembered so little, and the only thing that he knows with absolute certainty is her.

He looks at Namjoon. "I have to find her."

His brother stares back at him for a long moment, before relenting. "Alright," he says, climbing to his feet. "Go ahead."

Taehyung watches Namjoon leave the room. When the door is shut, he finally looks down at the laptop. His fingers hover over the mousepad; the cursor lying next to the most recent email left in the inbox.

Sometimes, things are better left in the past. But other times, you have to revisit the past in order to move on.

He takes a deep breath and begins to read.