❝ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐲 ❞- ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏᴜɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴍʙᴏᴅɪᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxQᴜɪꜱɪᴛᴇ ʜᴀʀᴍᴏɴʏ ᴏꜰ ꜱɪᴍᴜʟᴛᴀɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ ᴏᴄᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ.
In the heart of Seoul, two strangers, Lee Minho and Han Jisung, are inexplicably united through their dreams. Every night, Minho, a software deve...
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♥༻∞ Lee Minho ∞༺♥
The dreams kept surging back, each instance more vivid and emotionally charged than the last, intricately weaving deeper sentiments and richer scenes into my nightly escapades. Overwhelmed by their intensity, I found myself unable to sleep, compelled instead to spend the night poring over Jisung's book, Dreams and Reality. As I turned each page, it was as though I was reading excerpts from my own subconscious, so accurately mirrored that it left me reeling—vulnerable and exposed.
The unsettling realization that my private reveries were documented in a book accessible to the public was deeply disconcerting. Perhaps it was selfish, but these dreams, these fragments of another realm of consciousness, held immense significance for me; they were not mere anecdotes but integral parts of my psyche, exposed without my consent.
Driven by a need to address this intrusion, I resolved to confront Jisung directly. Felix, ever supportive, had provided me with the address of Jisung's office. I made a solemn promise to myself to approach the situation with composure and rationality. It was crucial to manage this conversation with calm and collected reasoning, to avoid letting raw emotions dictate the exchange.
As I gathered my car keys and clutched the copy of his book, I took several deep breaths, steadying my nerves and mentally rehearsing my approach. I visualized walking through his office door, confronting him with his own writings, demanding explanations, or at least acknowledgment.
Nothing significant should go awry unless he outright denied the connections, I reassured myself. Should Jisung dismiss my experiences or trivialize the profound impact they held for me, it would not only deepen the wound but potentially alienate him completely. I was determined not to come across as just another fan or a deluded reader; my concerns were genuine and deeply personal.
With a firm resolve, I stepped out of my apartment, the book a weighty presence in my grasp, symbolizing the gravity of what I was about to undertake. Today was the day I would seek answers, hoping to discover whether our shared dreams were mere coincidences or something more profound, perhaps even destined.
As I closed the door behind me, a final, deep breath fortified my resolve. I was ready to face whatever lay ahead, be it denial or acknowledgment, hoping for a resolution that would finally bring peace to the turbulent waters of my mind.
As I stepped out of the building, my mind was a whirlwind of anticipation and nerves. Each step towards my car was automatic, my actions guided by muscle memory while my thoughts raced ahead to the upcoming confrontation. Unlocking my car, I slipped into the driver's seat, feeling the familiar coolness of the leather against my skin—a slight comfort amidst the emotional tumult within.
I couldn't deny a certain eagerness to see him. Despite our limited and formal interactions in the waking world, the vividness of our dream encounters painted a different picture of Jisung—one that was deeply etched in my mind. In those dreams, he was not just an acquaintance but someone closer, characterized by a sweetness and goofiness that seemed to speak directly to my soul. He was gentle in his approach, his words always carefully chosen to comfort and connect, making each dream feel like a meaningful dialogue between two people with deep rooted connection.
