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"What if, Taehyung, you become my sanctuary? With you, happiness feels within reach, a secret haven away from the world's chaos. I resist vulnerabilities, yet you're a preci...
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Jimin moves quietly through the cemetery, his cloak billowing around him in the chilly night air. The sky is overcast, and the moonlight struggles to break through the thick blanket of clouds, casting an eerie glow over the rows of gravestones. He knows this path well; it’s one he has walked many times before, each visit tinged with the same mixture of apprehension and purpose.
In the distance, he spots a group of witches gathered around a cemented table, their heads bowed in solemn prayer. The soft glow of candlelight flickers against their faces, highlighting the oracles and sacred objects spread out before them.
Their voices rise in unison, chanting prayers to the ancestors, appealing for peace in the city as "Día de Muertos" approaches in two months. The words of their incantations echo through the quiet, dark cemetery, a haunting melody carried by the wind.
Jimin halts a few steps away, his presence hidden in the shadows. He doesn’t wish to interrupt their sacred ritual, so he lingers on the edge of the gathering, the darkness swallowing him whole as he watches the ceremony unfold. The power in their voices, the reverence with which they pray, sends a shiver down his spine. These are ancient rituals, older than the city itself, and he knows better than to disturb them.
The witches finish their prayers, their voices fading into the night as one by one, they begin to disperse. Jimin waits until the last of them has left before he approaches the woman he came to see. She stands by the table, her weathered hands carefully extinguishing the candles, her back turned to him.
"It’s been a while, Jimin - witch to the powerful mafia king. Why have you decided to bless me with your presence?" she asks without turning around, her voice warm and familiar, yet carrying the weight of years. When she finally faces him, her eyes crinkle with a smile, the deep lines on her face blending into the expression of welcome.
"I need answers, madam," Jimin says, his tone urgent, the weight of his request evident in his voice.
"Is it the cards?" Her smile fades, replaced by a look of concern, her gaze searching his.
"Yes, I’m afraid so," he admits, sighing deeply, the sadness pooling in his eyes like a dark, unshakable cloud.
"Do not be afraid, child. I’m sure there is hope. You must carry faith wherever your power lies," she encourages, her voice steady, reassuring.
They leave the cemetery together, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the damp earth beneath them.
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