Shared Dreams
The faint glow of moonlight spilled through Taehyung’s window, casting soft shadows across his room. He sat at the desk, fingers grazing the keys of the old typewriter. A weight rested in his chest—an unnamed longing that felt heavier tonight.
He had received Jungkook’s latest letter just hours ago, yet the words lingered like an unfinished melody in his mind:
jeon Jungkook
"Do you ever dream of a place that feels like home, even though you’ve never been there? Lately, I’ve dreamed of standing under a starry sky—so many stars that it felt like they were watching me. Someone was with me, but I couldn’t see their face "
Taehyung had dreamed the same dream. The memory of it was vivid—him standing beneath a sky strewn with stars, his bare feet touching soft grass. Beside him was a figure, cloaked in shadow but warm and familiar, like a song he used to know.
The stars in his dream hadn’t been ordinary. They shimmered brighter than anything he’d seen, almost as though they carried secrets of their own. They pulsed softly in the vast expanse above, casting their light onto him and the figure by his side. Even now, he could feel the crisp night air on his skin, the distant hum of a breeze brushing through the trees.
His fingers trembled as he began typing his reply, each keystroke resonating with the unspoken urgency in his chest.
Kim Taehyung
"I know the dream you’re talking about. I’ve had it, too. It feels...like I’ve been there before. And you were with me, weren’t you? I couldn’t see your face either, but I know it was you. Why does it feel so real?"
As the words etched themselves onto the paper, Taehyung felt a shiver run down his spine. This wasn’t just a coincidence. There was something more—something he couldn’t yet name.
He pulled the paper free from the typewriter, folded it carefully, and slipped it into the envelope. Sealing it felt almost ceremonial, as though he were binding not just his words but his very thoughts and emotions. The typewriter hummed faintly, the sound subtle but there, like it was alive and listening.
On the other side of the timeline, Jungkook sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, the letter from Taehyung resting in his lap. His heart raced as he read the words.
"I couldn’t see your face either, but I know it was you."
His fingers traced the edge of the paper. How could they have the same dream? They had never met, yet this connection felt as natural as breathing.
Jungkook closed his eyes, letting the memory of the dream flood back. He was standing in the middle of a vast field, the stars above stretching endlessly. Their light wasn’t cold or distant—it was warm, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. The grass beneath his feet was soft, damp with evening dew. And beside him, a shadowed figure stood, close enough to touch but somehow just out of reach.
The dream replayed in his mind—the stars, the grass, and the way he’d felt a presence beside him. A faint memory tugged at the edges of his consciousness, like a thread he couldn’t quite grasp.
He returned to his desk and sat before his own typewriter. The room was quiet, save for the soft clicking of the keys as he responded.
jeon Jungkook
"Do you think dreams are just dreams? Or could they be something more? I don’t know how to explain it, but the stars felt...familiar. Like I’ve been under that sky before, with you. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something we’re supposed to remember."
Jungkook paused, staring at the freshly typed letter. Something flickered in his mind—a memory, or maybe a fragment of one. He was a boy, standing in the middle of a field. Someone called out to him, but the voice was faint, like it came from another life. He shook his head, trying to clear the haze, but the sensation lingered, leaving him restless.
The next morning, Taehyung received Jungkook’s reply. He read it slowly, each word sinking deep into his chest.
"Do you think dreams are just dreams? Or could they be something more?"
Taehyung looked out the window, his thoughts swirling. He had always believed dreams were fleeting—mere whispers of the subconscious. But now, he wasn’t so sure.
The memory fragment haunted him. The starry sky, the figure beside him—it wasn’t just a dream. It felt too real, too vivid to be anything but a memory. But how could that be?
As the days passed, their letters became more frequent, their words carrying an urgency they couldn’t ignore. They talked about their shared dreams, their fragmented memories, and the unshakable sense that their lives were somehow intertwined.
One night, Taehyung dreamed again. He was standing under the same starry sky, but this time, the figure beside him turned toward him. He still couldn’t see the face, but a single word slipped through the dreamscape like an echo.
"Jungkook."
Taehyung woke with a startled his heart pounding. He rushed to the typewriter, the name "Jungkook" burning in his mind. The keys clicked rapidly under his fingers as he tried to capture every detail of the dream, his words tumbling over each other in his urgency.
Jungkook had the same dream that night. When he woke, the name “Taehyung” was on the tip of his tongue, though he didn’t know why.
He returned to his typewriter, his hands trembling as he began typing a letter. This time, his words carried more than curiosity—they carried longing, a deep need to understand the connection he felt.
jeon Jungkook
"Taehyung, I don’t know what’s happening, but I think we’re supposed to find each other. The stars, the dreams, the memories—I can feel it in my chest, like a pull I can’t ignore. Do you feel it, too?"
As they continued exchanging letters, their connection deepened. Each word felt like a step closer to unraveling the mystery that bound them together.
And yet, the more they uncovered, the more questions emerged. Why were their dreams so vivid? Why did the fragments of memory feel so real? And why, despite the impossible distance between them, did they feel like they had always been a part of each other’s lives?
The answers lay ahead, waiting for them to discover. But for now, all they had were dreams and letters—fragile threads connecting their worlds.
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