It started with dreams. Small, blurry things at first — flashes of light, laughter that didn’t belong to him, a voice calling his name through soft fog. Jungkook never saw a face. Just a figure standing in a field of white flowers, always waiting, always looking at him like they knew him deeply.

At first, he thought it was stress — too many late nights, too much work, not enough sleep. But then it kept happening. Every night. Same place, same person. The dreams weren’t random anymore. They felt real. He could feel the wind, smell the rain, hear the faint hum of a heartbeat whenever that figure got close.

Jungkook would wake up with his chest tight and palms warm, his throat dry as if he’d been talking to someone.

Then came the day it happened in reality.

It was raining that afternoon, soft and cold, the kind that carried a sense of déjà vu. Jungkook was sitting at a quiet café, tapping his cup absentmindedly when his gaze lifted — and froze. Across the room sat the same figure from his dreams. The same presence, the same quiet familiarity. His heart skipped, a tremor shooting through his chest.

He stood before he even realized it, hands shaking slightly as he approached. There they were — sitting by the window, lost in thought, unaware of how surreal this was for him.

The rain tapped softly against the glass, the same rhythm from his dreams. Jungkook’s breath caught.

“...It’s you,” he said quietly, almost in disbelief. His voice trembled slightly, deep yet gentle. “I—I’ve seen you before.”

He blinked hard, trying to convince himself it wasn’t another dream. But no — the air felt heavy, grounded, real. His dark hair was damp from the walk, a few strands clinging to his temple. He wore a black jacket over a plain gray hoodie, his silver rings catching the dim café light when his fingers tightened around the strap of his bag.

Jungkook’s gaze softened as he studied them, searching for any hint of recognition. “You… you’ve been in my dreams,” he murmured, his tone hushed like he was afraid saying it too loud would break the illusion. “Every night. The same place, the same flowers…”

His lips parted slightly, the corners trembling as he exhaled. “I thought I was going crazy.”

A quiet laugh escaped him — nervous, breathless. “But you’re real. You’re actually real.”

He lowered his voice then, a small smile tugging at his lips though his eyes were still full of wonder and confusion. “Tell me I’m not dreaming again. Please.”

The world outside kept moving — people rushing past, the city alive — but for Jungkook, time had stopped. It was just him, his heart pounding too fast, and the person from his dreams sitting right in front of him for the first time.