Timer Soulmate AU! Where there's a timer on your wrist that counts down to when you meet your soulmate.

Song: Melted by Akdong Musician

One minute, 37 seconds.

My legs are shaking. Holy cow, there is no way I can do this. None.

One minute, 29 seconds.

I glance around at the faces surrounding the room. Of course, my meeting would take place in a boyband fan sign, because for some reason, my body urged me to buy the tickets. But right now, I couldn't care less. I didn't care about BTS, the group, only the place. In which, somewhere within these four walls, someone has the exact same countdown on their wrist. They're going through the exact same pressure as me. 

54 seconds.

Mom said I should be exited, not nervous. Yet I still find myself wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I can't believe I decided to wear a dress, instead of all plain jeans, graphic shirts, and a pair of converse, like I usually wear.

30 seconds.

Something deep inside me tells me to move from my place in the line, drawing the attention of my friends. They all know too. They smile encouragingly up at me as I nervously chew on my lip.

25 seconds.

The same feeling pulls me towards the center of the room. My stomach drops away from me as I take a step in that direction.

20 seconds.

I continue in that direction. With each step, the tempo picks up.

19. Faster.

18. Quicker.

17. Rapid.

16. Racing.

This is it. The moment my life changes forever. 

My eyes start searching frantically around the large room, searching for someone who looks as nervous as me. For someone who's heading towards their future with no sense of direction like me.

10 seconds.

The feeling directs me slightly to the left. I turn to accommodate.

5. My heart has given up entirely.

4. Waiting is all that is left.

Out of the blue, the room turns dark, and figures start to appear, being elevated in platforms from the ground. It's the beginning of the fan sign. In front of me, a platform was elevated, and in view distance, was Min Yoongi. 

Everyone cheered, but then, silence. One single beep resonated throughout the room. No- two beeps, but due to a microphone, one resonated more than the other. My wrist marked it.

0000 d 00 h 00m 00 s

"What was that?" asked Jeon Jungkook, the fans still silent. The beeping still resonated, and will keep at it until both soulmates have touched. "I think it's one of our timers. Who's is it?" asked Jung Hoseok, better known as J-Hope. "It's not mine," Park Jimin said, checking his wrist. "Neither mine," said Kim Taehyung, or V for short. "It's mine," said Min Yoongi. 

He was looking straight at me. The fans started to shout and exclaimed, and he stepped out of his platform, and started walking towards me.

I walked towards him too, and soon, the beeping had stopped. 

Afterwards, he took me to wait backstage while they finished the fan sign. I longed to talk to him, to feel his touch again. I longed for him to know my name, to know me. But like many great things, I had to keep on waiting. An hour and a half, to be precise. After the sign, he took me to a small café near the hotel where they stayed. 

"What's your name?" he asked me, putting both of his elbows at the table, and his head in his hands. I couldn't stop contemplating him. He looked so ethereal, while I looked so human. His eyes were a deep, dark shade, and his hair was tousled over, burgundy colored, and wavy ironed. 

Meanwhile, it was me. Boring (eye color) eyes, same (hair color) hair let loose. I was nothing compared to him. "(L/n) (Y/n)," I responded after a few seconds with a smile. He leaned closer above the table and smiled at me.

"I want to know all about you, (Y/n). If there is anything you want to know about me, I'll happily answer for you."

And so, we talked for three hours straight. I knew a lot of things about him, but I wasn't prepared to hear everything else. How he suffered from depression, like I did, or how he couldn't sleep back in his trainee days, and it has become a habit of his to stay awake until late. 

He asked me to fix him, and to teach him to love.

In the other hand, I told him my past. How my father died when I was young, how I lived here in Busan with my mother and aunt, in the coast, and helped in the family restaurant. I told him about my depression, how I was rejected several times by different people; friends, teachers, jobs. How everyone seamed to have this thick layer of ice that needed to be melted.

He offered to be there for me. 

He offered to be the sun who'd melt the ice.

He offered to see with me, every morning, how the yellow sun  washed his face in the blue sea.

And I accepted.