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🦋⃨1; THE BROKEN WATCH !

៹𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁.𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 !
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Chapter no. one, part one.

''FIX ME."

What in the utter fuckittie fuck did you just see.

Sure. Cleaning your grandparents' attic was exciting, not just because you kept stumbling accross photos of their past youth- and even your father's photos- but there were so many things that just screamed the 1930s-1950s. There were magazines, all filled with trends about the new 'Modern Look!' or the absolutely outstanding 'C'est la mode!', as well as literal guides written about hairstyles and how to re-create them yourself.

You were so preoccupied with your own excitement that you had almost forgotten about the intoxicating layers of dust in the attic. You swore that the dust was so thick you could practically make a whole blanket out of it and cover the entire attic area. Perhaps you could even create a strong army of dustmen and fight the enemy by literally drowning them into a thick mess.

Dust was your friend. Not your enemy.

However, that was not the point. A small glimmer of light caught your attention from the corner of your eye as you curiously rummaged your way through the old boxes. Turning your head in the direction of the minor twinkling light, you shift from your crouching position and kick aside the boxes you were looking through.

Standing up, you raise a foot and take a gigantic step forward in attempt to get over the endless piles of boxes scattered around. And in all honesty, this bloody attic was fuller of boxes than the damn Turkey at your mom's Thanksgiving dinner.

That Turkey being your dad, of course. If he could, he'd swallow the entire dinner table and there was no way you could ever stop him even if you tried.

Pushing aside that thought however, you perk up at the sound of your grandmother's voice, seeming as it comes right down from the attic stairs.

"You be careful in there, my darling Y/N- don't trip!" She piped cheerfully from down below, holding on to the tiny wooden rails of the stairs as she gazed up into the attic darkness. "You wouldn't want to accidentally hurt the boxes or break the floor now, would you?''

Oh wow; yeah grandma, thank you so much for caring.

In all fairness though, you did appreciate her unique sense of humour. At least she didn't turn out to be just as boring as the other boomer that lived right down the street next to your gran's house. Mrs. Chaewon was the worst pensioner to ever spend your time with. She didn't even like playing Bingo. In fact, she didn't even like breathing.

But still- what type of old person doesn't even enjoy playing Bingo!?

Didn't take you long to spot the little "FIX ME" stained tag hanging out of the box though, because you soon reached it. "I think I've found something, gra- aAA OH SHi-" your entire life flashed right before your eyes as you suddenly tripped over your own feet and fell, landing face-first into the hard wooden floor planks.

"I told you not to break the fuckin' floor, Y/N!" Your grandmother suddenly shouts from below in warning, although a hint of worry accompanied her slight condescending tone.

Lifting your face up from the floor, you huff through the thick strands of voluminous hair that had fallen over your face, before you quickly retort back to your grandmother. "The floor is fine!" Pushing your elbows beneath your stomach to shift your body up, you stand on your knees and rapidly dust yourself off with your palms. "Only if I were fine as well...''

Sighing softly, you carefully extend out an arm to grab the edge of the box with a hand before sliding it towards you to inspect it. As you peaked down into it, you tilted your head in curiosity and quickly grabbed whatever the tips of your fingers could touch.

Somehow, the first thing you were able to pull out was an old photo. You marvelled at the authenticity of the photograph and gently ran your fingertips over the smooth, shining surface of it. You wondered how come it wasn't just filled with dirt and dust like everything else around here, but at the same time you had to feel thankful.

After all, you were able to admire the beautiful faces within the photograph itself.

The only person you may have been able to recognise in the picture was your great grandfather who elegantly sat at a desk, surrounded by seven charming individuals as they happily stared back at you. And you had to admit that whoever these men were, they sure as hell managed to steal your heart in an instant.

Just. It's kinda sad. They're all most probably dead by now.

Reaching your arm down the box once more, your eyes double the size the moment you stumble across a broken pocket watch that glimmers with a dusted golden powder of crystalline stars. The white coffee-stained "FIX ME" tag had been attached to the lustrous aurelian clock handle and you couldn't help but stare at the interstellar specks of sprinkled fairy dust, which danced gracefully through the cool blues behind the tiny, rounded spotless watch panes.

"Y/N? What did you find?"

Your grandmother's voice echoes into your ears just as it slowly melts into an undying pool of hungry and mischievous whispers, which lull you into a spellbinding state of mind and ignorance.

The fine, argent sweep clock hand rotates around the dial normally, ticking hypontisingly each and every second that elapsed; but the minute hand. It briskly spun in an anti-clockwise orientation, bypassing the sweep itself in the utmost confusing fashion you had ever seen. Compelled, you couldn't even think of ripping your gaze away from it. Your eyes remained fixated on the minute hand that lit up the deep pools of your eyes with sparks and clusters of intense fascination.

Like magic, the auric specks of fairy dust beclouds your entire perception, entrancing you into an addictive unconsciousness which warmly embraces you with the comforting blanket of time. As if a dream occurs, you feel yourself falling as light as a swift feather that softly sways through the gentle breeze of the wind.

And everything turns dark.