four season;s || bts x mamamoo

[infinity;]

[infinity;]

wheetae reincarnated soulmates!au

Is it true that soulmates always end up together?

I didn't think so.

But I hoped that if there was such a thing as reincarnation,

We would meet again in another life and try again.

If it was possible,

I'd find her no matter what, for another chance at love.

Wheein is late.

Her breath comes out in short pants as she sprints to her bus stop, just barely making it in time onto her bus. She lets out a huge sigh of relief as the doors jostle closed behind her, reaching out to grab the closest pole to balance herself when the bus jerks forward to make its way to the next stop.

It's rare for her to oversleep like this, but the past few nights of sleep for her have been rather restless, usually ending up with her tossing and turning for half the night or waking up in the middle of the night in a frantic cold sweat, unable to recollect any sort of dream that may have been the source of her panic. She's constantly on edge now, almost as though she's forgotten something important and can't seem to remember what, or who, it is.

Her eyelids feel heavier than ever, the soft rumbling of the bus's engine and the familiar Seoul traffic outside the window slowly lulling her back into dreamland. However, her relaxed state is short lived, when the bus comes to a jerking stop, the sudden movement forcing Wheein to stumble forward from her previous standing position and accidentally bump into the passenger in front of her.

"Sorry, I-" Wheein starts, only to cut off her own sentence with a gasp when her bare arm grazes against the stranger's. The jolting shock that courses through her body is something she's never felt before, and there's a sudden foreign pounding in the back of her head, as though something is desperately trying to break free from the recesses of her memories. A vivid scene flashes through her mind, almost like one out of those historical dramas her friend Hyejin loves watching so much.

"Your highness, stop squirming!" the woman scolds in a hushed tone, using a wet cloth to wipe the blood off of the forearm of the man in front of her. "If you keep flinching here and there, the needle's going to miss and I'm going to have to prick you again. Hold still and it'll be over before you know it."

"I don't like needles," the man whines childishly, despite clearly looking to be in his late teens or early twenties. His sad puppy eyes stare at the woman in front of him longingly. From his gaze alone, it's evident that what he feels for the girl currently tending to his wound is long past friendship. "Wheein-ah, I'll be fine, you don't need to-"

"Nurse Jung," the girl corrects him quickly, losing focus on her current task to look left and right in a paranoid manner, almost as though checking to make sure no one has overheard their conversation yet. "If you're caught speaking to me so casually, the servants will gossip."

"I don't care what they think," the boy snorts indignantly, rolling his eyes in anger at the thought of those cowardly servants that would always spread useless rumors instead of properly doing their work. He's already made it very clear countless times that anyone that messed with Wheein would find themselves hung the very next morning on his orders.  "And you didn't either, back when we were younger. Your mom used to tell me all about how you used to always beg her to take you along with her when she came to the palace for errands so you could come play with your favorite 'Hansungie'."