𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍 | ʙᴛs ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇs

-Finding Home-

"A place to rest isn't always where you are. Sometimes, it's what you carry with you."

♛

-ARA

The bus ride had been too long, the road too uneven, and the silence too loud.

I stepped onto the gravel, adjusting the strap of my bag as I took in my surroundings. The town was smaller than I had imagined, its buildings old but sturdy, their facades worn by time and weather. It was nothing like the towering skyscrapers and endless traffic of the city. Here, the air was crisp, untainted by exhaust fumes, and the only sounds were the rustling of trees and the distant chatter of shopkeepers.

It made me uneasy.

I thrived on movement, on deadlines, on a schedule packed so tightly there was no space to think. But here... everything was slow. Too slow.

With a sigh, I pulled out my tablet. Project Timeline: Two weeks. That's all I needed-to assess the restoration sites, draft a plan, and secure funding. Then I could leave.

As I walked through the narrow streets, my heels clicking against the uneven pavement, while looking around, something caught my eye-a greenhouse standing at the edge of a small clearing.

It wasn't part of my project, but something about it made me stop. Unlike the sleek, carefully maintained botanical spaces I had seen in the city, this one looked... wild. Vines curled up its wooden beams, glass panels were smudged with dirt, and flowers spilled onto the pathway as if refusing to be contained. It wasn't neat or controlled. But it was alive in a way that stirred something in me.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I stepped inside.

The moment I crossed the threshold, warmth wrapped around me. The scent of damp soil and fresh leaves filled my lungs, the sunlight filtering through the glass casting golden shadows across the space. It wasn't organized-pots were scattered across the wooden floor, hanging plants dangled at uneven heights, and books were stacked haphazardly on a worn table near the entrance.

And then, I saw him.

A man crouched near a cluster of small saplings, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands covered in soil. He moved with quiet precision, fingers brushing over leaves with an almost reverent touch. He was completely absorbed in his task, unaware of-or maybe unconcerned with-my presence.

I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, is this open to the public?"

His head lifted, his gaze meeting mine. His eyes were steady, unreadable, like he was deciding whether I belonged here.

For some reason, I felt like I had just walked into a space I wasn't meant to disturb.

.
.
.

-NAMJOON

The first thing I noticed about her was that she didn't belong here.

Not in a way that was unwelcome-just in a way that stood out.

The way her polished shoes pressed against the uneven soil, how she held her tablet like a shield, the way her presence carried the weight of someone used to being busy. She looked like someone who didn't stop. Who didn't know how to.