𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 5

The next few days passed in a gentle routine that made you feel more at home in the village.

Each morning, you'd visit the little marketplace on the square, weaving between stalls filled with vibrant fruits, freshly baked bread, and handmade trinkets that sparkled in the sunlight.

The air was rich with the smell of pastries and the warm chatter of the townsfolk, and you started to recognize familiar faces, exchanging friendly smiles with Mina, the baker's daughter, and the blacksmith, whose arms were as impressive as his craft.

As comfortable as you became in this quaint village, thoughts of the mysterious man from the woods crept into your mind constantly.

The intensity of his eyes and the sadness in his voice echoed within you. You found yourself whispering to the empty air, "Maybe I imagined him," as you absently fingered the silver bracelet on your wrist—a gift from your grandmother, a token of protection that now felt more like a tether to something you could not grasp.

But deep down, you knew he was real. You could still feel the way his presence had stirred something inside you, like the surface of the pond when a stone is dropped, rippling outwards into unknown depths.

Today, however, you decided to stay closer to home.

The herb garden behind the cottage had clearly been loved by its previous owner but had fallen into a bit of disrepair.

With the spring fair just days away, you thought sprucing it up would be a nice surprise for the villagers. You gathered what little gardening tools you could find, setting up by the garden, and got to work.

After a few hours of digging, pruning, and weeding, you leaned back to admire your progress.

The sun was beginning to dip below the tree line, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. That's when you heard it—the soft crunch of leaves, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.

You turned, and there he was, leaning against a tree at the edge of your little garden, arms crossed, a familiar, unreadable expression on his face.

"Didn't mean to intrude," he said, his voice low and warm, rich like the earth itself. "But I thought you might need a hand."

Your heart raced as he stepped forward, his features softened by the evening light.

There was something almost surreal about seeing him here, in your own space, like a shadow had somehow come to life. He walked over and picked up the shovel you'd just set down.

"I didn't catch your name last time," you said, trying to sound casual, even though your pulse was doing flips.

"Taehyung," he replied, flashing a small, almost shy smile as he offered his hand. You shook it, feeling the warmth and roughness of his skin.

"Nice to meet you, Taehyung," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. He seemed to savor your name, as if tasting each syllable.

Together, you fell into a comfortable rhythm, Taehyung digging up roots and moving rocks while you focused on the smaller details, like planting seeds and arranging the soil.

It was strangely easy to talk to him, despite the air of mystery that surrounded him. Occasionally, you'd catch him watching you with that intense gaze, as if he was reading secrets from your expression alone.

"Why the forest?" you asked at one point, breaking the silence as you both rested by the stone wall. "Why not live in the village, with everyone else?"

He seemed to ponder the question, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "The forest doesn't ask questions," he replied thoughtfully. "Or have expectations. Out here, you can just... be."