✦ So Good At Being In Trouble // Taejoon // 18+ ✦

Smoke And Mirrors

"I think it's outside the house." Taehyung whispers into his phone that he holds so closely to his ear, free hand covering his mouth in case he was heard by whatever it was that was roaming about outside.

"Go check." The other voice said in his ear. It sounded like Seokjin's.

He scoots off the edge of his bed and walks to the centre of his room, listening out for any noise. The curtains were drawn back to show absolute blackness outside, no dimension, nothing. No star in sight or even the moon. The only source of light in his room right now was his light from his laptop that remained perched on his pilllows. His brows knitt together, hearing out in complete concentration for any movement or noise that comes from the hallway outside his bedroom door.

"Taehyung, where are you now? I can see it running."

"I'm still in my room."

"Wait, don't go out. You're not safe with him!"

Taehyung doesn't find the willingness in himself to listen. Twisting the handle of his door he slowly pulls it open and there stands a pitch black figure in the shape of a man. Again, no dimension. Just a shape. It seems to be 6 foot or more. Lanky frame.

Taking a step back, he watched it morph and disfigure, the height varying every millisecond as it approaches him carefully. The further he was backed up into the middle of his room, the further the walls and windows distanced from him. He was trapped but he has a this space to run. Taehyung can't find the ability to move.

Then, all at once, the figure forms into a young man in a black suit, tanned skin contrasting as much as the bleach blonde hair but his eyes remain threatening. He looks all too familiar, though. A voice cuts through the deadly silence, coming from his phone that he now clutches so tightly it could break.

"Tae? What's happening?"

Then he was tackled to the floor and an ominous growl escapes the familiar stranger that shakes him to his core. His throat is grabbed and his windpipes are constricted. He punches and kicks but his limbs go straight through like they're a hologram. He struggles. He can't breathe-

Eyelashes snap open and he gasps out. Taehyung finds himself sitting upright in bed and trying to regain his breath again. His vision adjusts to the natural light coming into his bedroom, having forgotten to pull the curtains across last night. He squints softly and slides a hand up to feel his throat. Just another nightmare. As he lays back down and rolls onto his side, he stills. Wait, what the fuck was that about? None of that even made sense. Then it dawns on him that it was that guy from last night who Jimin said was 'checking him out'. Of course, dreams don't need to make sense. He barely believes the meaning behind his own more than half the time, but that doesn't stop him from having the fun of analysing them. Except, with this one, he doesn't know where to begin.

Shaking his head, he stretches over with a quiet groan, mustering all the strength he had to grab his phone off his bedside table, messy bangs falling into his eyes. Pressing the button, he blinked at the screen.

10:23am.

He swore his heart skipped a beat or two as he frantically tries to remember this week's roster. Then, not a moment later, relief overcame him.

Oh, yeah, no work today.

Taehyung heaves out an exasperated sigh at that, relief still running through him as he lay flat on his back. Least he had a good rest, right? Apart from that absurd experience. Thinking back to that dream, though, he barely noticed how he had moved his hand down his front and slipped it under the beginning of his boxers. It was such a vivid dream that Taehyung was almost foolish enough to suspect it as a premonition. He was the type of person to write out his memories of dreams, after all.