#Live Poker in Delhi

[mahiragarcia]

Name: Mahira Zahara Garcia

Faceclaim: Alia Bhatt

Gender & Pronouns: CIS-woman & she/her

Age: 35

Birthday: January, 31, 1989

Occupation: Owner of Soundwave Nightclub

Neighborhood: Carriage Falls

Does your character have a secret? She secretly believes that she should have died in captivity and struggles with survivor's guilt. She also has been sending money to the family of the cameraman who was murdered in Syria.

Would you be willing to have this secret used against them at some point in the future? Yes.

Biography

tw: mentions of death and ptsd. 

Mahira never knew her birth parents. Her earliest memories were of life in a crowded orphanage in Delhi, India. The orphanage caregivers doted on the petite girl with the dimpled chubby cheeks and sparkling eyes, yet the other children picked on her mercilessly. By age four when she was adopted by Adela Garcia, she had become a withdrawn, lonely child who rarely smiled. But her new mother lavished love and affection on her newly adopted daughter. Within months of joining the family in Wilmington, SC, her bubbly personality returned. By the time her mom adopted Donnie Paak, Mahi had returned to the vivacious little girl she had always been. With Donnie in the household, she finally had the sibling she had always dreamed of having. She immediately took on the role of protective big sister. She and Donnie did everything together—often causing mischief in their wake. She was fiercely protective of her younger brother.

In high school, she made average grades, but stayed busy with sports and activities. She sang in the school choir and played middle blocker on the varsity volleyball team. After graduation, she struggled to settle on a career path. She started out studying business at Seattle Pacific University, but found herself drawn to journalism. Because of this, at the start of her second semester, she changed majors. She graduated with a journalism degree and landed a job as a field reporter at a local news station. Initially, she was always pushed around by others in the field. But after meeting and being told that she should always stand up for herself from a successful reporter who she had always idolized—she gained confidence. Taking the woman's advice to heart, Mahira held her head high and refused to let anyone walk all over her. Her career soon took off.

By age 28, she was working as a foreign correspondent—often traveling to dangerous places around the world. This caused endless worry for her mother and Donnie, though they were exceedingly proud of Mahira. She was always safe, until a reporting trip to Syria five years ago. While covering the drug epidemic there, Mahira and her crew were kidnapped and held hostage. When they got to the place where she would be held, the cameraman was shot and killed right before her very eyes. Those 18 horrific days in captivity left her emotionally scarred. She wondered daily if she would make it out alive. When explosions rocked the compound, she thought her end had come. But the door swung open and a man in black fatigues saved her life, getting her to safety amidst a hail of gunfire. In her darkest hour, he was her guardian angel.

Upon returning to the U.S., she struggled with PTSD and lost her way. She would often disappear for months at a time—traveling to different places because after the close brush with death, she felt like she had to live her life to the fullest. She ended up making a lot of money through playing poker. One day, after another encounter with the man who had saved her, she decided to go home. She had been back in Wilmington for two weeks and was now getting therapy and opening a nightclub. She hates rainy days because it reminds her of the 18 days of captivity in Syria.

tl;dr

Mahira was born in Delhi, India but was adopted at age four by Adela Garcia. She grew up in Wilmington with her younger brother, Donovan. In college, she studied journalism and later became a foreign correspondent. While covering the drug epidemic in Syria 5 years ago, she was kidnapped and held hostage for 18 days, where she was forced to witness the murder of her team’s cameraman. A man came to her aid during an explosion and the two ended up hiding for another day before being rescued. Struggling with PTSD, she spent the last 5 years traveling and earned her living by playing poker. In July 2024, she returned home, where she is now getting therapy and using her poker winnings to open a nightclub; Soundwave.

Wanted Connections

Him: He's the guardian angel who saved her all those years ago in Syria. Vedant Dasari

Brother: He’s that little brother that Mahi dotes on and like Sara—she’ll protect him from anyone who tries to hurt him. Donovan Paak

Friends: 

Cousin: Ruhika Marathe

Best Friend: They grew up together and are as thick as thieves. Chloe Anurak

Enemies: Could be a competitor or just someone she doesn’t vibe with.  

Yoga Friend: This person goes to yoga with Mahi. They could have met in a class one day. 

Drinking Friends:

[008-rrr]

South Delhi Club

K adjusted her starched saree, checked her perfectly curated curls, and gingerly walked into the club. You could smell adrenaline oozing out of the palms of the pundits holding their cards close to their chest, as if their life depended on them. Everywhere she looked there was a pantomime of human emotions on every poker table revealing the mood of each person. For her, this was the playground of players who had made it in life. The foul taste of not having enough to becoming this goddess doused in Anais Anais, wrapped in Satya Pauls saree glistening like the jalidar golden kada that adorned her wrist, screamed K had arrived.

If ever you want to win an argument with an Indian, feed him or her. K knew that her husband stomach was bigger than his heart and the SDC chef’s culinary skills were formidable. The way to a mans heart is through his stomach, they say, but too much of anything even food for the soul starts to rot.

Whilst it was fun to watch a few ladies dressed elegantly in the best chiffons, silks and cotton sarees sharing their domestics woes, one could not miss the unsettling feeling of money exchanging hands. Even the family reunion was poker faced or shall I say based, on one side the cousins exchanged stories and on the other uncles and aunts’ currency notes. It is fun when goddess Lakshmi is smiling on you and frustrating when she misses your deep pockets. Soon the in-house kitty parties of laughing aunties, bustling kitchen became a launching pad into the dark nights of the club.

There is a lot at stake when you scale the social ladder and yes you got it, there is no free lunch. Imagination and reality are strange bedfellows, there is no right or wrong dosage prescribed in the drama of life. Yet how it circulates in your grey matter defines you. K, grew in class, confidence, and elegance, reveling in the fickle male gaze flicked from disgust to adoration. It was intoxicating all of it the feel of acceptance in the high social ranks, the sexy touch of the green paper in the handbag and the drowning lap of luxury. She became literal embodiment of the goddess she believed in and did not hesitate in sharing the good fortune with her siblings, forgetting that unlike Lakshmi, she had a limit on her credit.

Bollywood is the holy grail, the ray of hope, the ultimate dream catcher for the Indian audience and K was just a character living in that blockbuster movie. 

[livepokerclub]

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[pokerindelhi]

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[jadevakarian]

@spookyvalentine this is on you, but I thank you. Here are the first lot of relevant questions for Arlen.

1. Why did Arlen enlist? Any regrets?

Arlen enlisted due to the pressure his father put on him. Their family is quite renowned and respected within their species. He regrets not getting out and becoming an archaeologist. 

4. Is Arlen any good at poker?

He is damn good.

5. How well does Arlen know their crew? Not just the companions, but the folks making up the SSV Valor? 

Arlen knows little to nothing about their personal lives, he doesn't particularly enjoy interacting with people. 

  

7. Does their love interest move into their quarters?

Due to Seriana being an ex merc the council thought it best for her to move in with Arlen until her training was completed. They eventually move in together permanently though. 

8. What is their reaction to having to train a spectre candidate?

He isn't happy to say the least. Arlen likes his personal space and alone time which Seriana would never be able to give him at the time. 

9. What type of fighter is Alren? Does he fight with honor, or does he fight dirty

Arlen fights with honour until his life is on the line, then he will use whatever tactics necessary to survive. 

10. Does Arlen keep any pets? 

Not until Seriana moves in. 

12. Does Arlen have any nicknames? What do they think of em?

Seriana likes to tease him by calling him Arley. He finds it annoying but secretly thinks its cute. 

13. How does Arlen react to teasing/ribbing? 

Arlen doesn't know how to cope with being teased, he thinks people are being rude to him because he doesnt understand its something friends do. 

Sexually, he's the one that does the teasing (or so he likes to think) Seriana drives him wild and he finds it hard to control his impulses and instincts. 

14. Any good at flirting? 

Absolutely not. When it comes to love he gets very bashful and embarrassed. 

15. What colors does Arlen prefer for his armor?

His favourite armor colour scheme is black, the undersuit? Is a camo pink and grey. His regular armour is black with pink highlights. 

16. Is Arlen a drinker? History of other substances? Does he struggle with sobriety 

He drinks from time to time. He used to have a bit of a problem with heroin for a while but primarch Fedorian got him sober again. He is doing well and is over his addiction. 

17. How does Arlen react to attention? Does he enjoy it?

He hates it with a passion. He would perfer to go by unnoticed. 

19. Are there any companions Arlen just absolutely cannot vibe with or relate to

The twins on the ship Destrier and Dextane. 

20. Does Arlen enjoy looking for resources and upgrading gear, or do they see it as a chore?

He sees it as a chore. 

21. Do you have any AUs for Arlen?

I have, role reversal so Arlen would take shepards place, post war, slime rancher (come at me! My boy loves his precious slimes) and TWD would be cool. 

22. What’s the last thing Arlen ate?

It would've been lunch so probably a sandwich or two with turian delhi meats. 

24. Who does Arlen turn to for advice? For comfort? Who does he like to gossip with

Arlen usually sticks to himself but Fedorian knows when something is up and tries to help him. Arlen thinks gossip is a waste of time and only starts crap��� but he absolutely has to know what's going on between the councillors. Him and Seriana talk crap about it all the time. 

25. How emotionally articulate is Arlen? Doss he emote well?

He doesn't understand emotions very well. He had quite limited social interaction as a kid and only really understands basic emotions like anger, he does get anger and sadness confused sometimes. 

26. Does your Arlen have a romance? Who are they, and what drew Arlen to them?

Seriana Angavin was a merc before the council marked her as a candidate. What originally drew Arlen to her was the way she interacted with people around her, how she made it seem as if she understood everyone, understood him. From there Seriana worked with Arlen and helped him become more socially aware. The final thing that made Arlen realise he was in love was when Seriana had a bit of a sad moment and confided in him and he felt for her, he didn't want to ever see her sad again. They kissed not long after 😚

27. Does he have any pet peeves? 

He absolutely hates loud chewing and the squelching sounds of wet shoes.

28. What about hyperfixations? What’s the topic that will get Arlen rolling no matter the person or place 

History of all sorts but especially ancient krogan culture. He will end up on a huge rant like Mordin, Seriana watches with a smile of admiration and actively engages by asking questions which was another thing that Arlen likes about her. 

29. How active is Arlen? Is he hitting the gym, playing sports, or does he prefer quieter downtime.

Arlen often works out to keep in shape when he's bored, he also likes a quieter downtime. In his room he has a special reading spot where he sits and gets lost in a book for God knows how long. 

30. What will always make him laugh? 

Seriana making stupid jokes and her sarcasm at certain situations. Also when someone says something downright stupid, he will laugh and realise he was being rude when they were serious. 

31. Who can always make him laugh?

Seriana

32. What does he do when he have hit his limit angry, just incandescent with rage?

This is never good, Arlen becomes quite irratic and lashes out at the people around him. Sometimes for stress relief he will go looking for people to kill. When he is at his max limit he will drop off the face of the earth with no explanation and will return when he has dealt with whatever was going on. 

33. What skills does he have that are a surprise to the people around him?

Archaeology, journalism and robotics 

34. Got any tattoos?

Colonial markings/extended over his body

35. Which companions/friends has he lost? How does he cope with it?

He lost his only childhood friend because he ghosted her, he tries not to think about it often. He has experienced loss with many people he cared about and regretted never showing his appreciation for them. 

36. How does he feel about getting dressed up?

He likes fancy suits but prefers casual clothing.

37. Got any bad habits? 

He picks his plates and skin when he's anxious. Spending money on relics and fossils, this mf owns a full dinosaur skeleton and its in his house on the citadel. 

38. Does Arlen do any activities with friends, companions or the crew during downtime?

He prefers to spend his time alone but enjoys sitting in a comfortable silence/watching a movie with Seriana 

39. Does he keep around any sentimental items?

He has a bracelet his mother gave him to bring hope when he needs it most. Its a reminder of what he's fighting to protect. 

40. What does Arlen collect and display?

Relics, fossils and artefacts. 

41. How is Arlen with a gun? What about hand to hand?

He is best with a sniper, hand to hand he's had the best training the galaxy can offer and enjoys closer combat. 

42. Favorite weapon? 

M48 widow 

 

45. Does he approve of curing the genophage?

Absolutely, he likes the krogan and believes they were wronged.

47. Does Arlen practice any kind of self-care? 

He never used to, once him and Seriana got closer, she started using face masks for his plates and moisturising his skin. When she's bored she will file and polish his talons. 

48. What abilities does he rely on the most in a fight?

All of his senses, touch, smell, taste, sight but mainly his hearing and instincts. If he gets a bad feeling he knows he needs to get out asap. He also relies heavily on his speed and endurance. 

49. What is Arlens happy ending? What’s the dream that keeps em going

He wants to settle down with Seriana and maybe even adopt kids which is something he never thought he would be able to do.

(+1: what does Arlen smell like?)

Arlen usually smells like his natural musk which is pleasant, with also a slightly fruity smell from his soaps. 

[playpokerguru]

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[kalebanderson]

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[rosy-night-sky]

Of Treasure and Adventure

Genre: Treasure hunter/Indiana Jones AU

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Summary: Your grandmother gave you a gift that she won in a game, so naturally you are curious as to the origins of it. A decision was then made that you should seek the answers to your questions. However, you never expected your decision to lead you on a treasure hunting quest.

Tag List: @sevenincubistolemyheart

Chapter 1

The endless chatter and commotion of the marketplace echoed throughout of New Delhi. Various shopkeepers and traders yelled out their so called amazing products or the astonishing sales. Silks, spices, foods, animals, anything you could think of was there. Products were sold and coin flowed in steadily, although not as rapidly as before.

However, you weren’t here to trade or buy anything, although many things did happen to catch your eye. No, you were a reporter sent by a British newspaper company to cover the events of the growing Indian independence movement. The movement had caused quite a stir back in England, and the people there are anxious on what will become of India.

Honestly, although as a reporter you weren’t allowed to give your opinion, you were in the minority among the British, believing that India had a right to become independent from the imperializing country. The British, of course, acted cruel to the natives of the country, acting like they were no more than servants.

In addition to your assignment, you decided to take care of another issue. In your possession, handed to you from your grandmother, you had a small, ornate tapestry heavily influenced with Indian design. You were rather curious on the origins of the item and whether or not it was deemed valuable. You had already gone to many historians, but they all said that it was nothing of note.

You obviously weren’t going to take that as an answer and realized that you could only find what you were looking for by going to its home country, which was why you were currently entering a building acting like you were about to conduct some shady business. You got in contact with a historian who was willing to look at your tapestry and try to see if he could search for it origins. You were elated when he agreed to help you, and you couldn’t help the bubbly feeling of nervous excitement rush through you as you climbed the steps to the place where you both agreed to meet.

The floor you landed on looked like it was supposed to be a fancy bar, what with the fine tablecloths and baskets upon baskets of flowers littered everywhere. You saw many British military men chatting and drinking with familiar company. You ignored them and looked for the historian, who happened to be seated on the balcony looking over the city.

You strolled over to him and stuck your hand out. “Dr. Kim, I presume,” you greeted with a smile.

The man tore his gaze from the ongoings down below and turned his attention to you, a bright smile stretching from ear to ear. The first thing you noticed was how handsome and professional he appeared. His gray suit was nicely pressed without so much as a single hair or piece of lint on it. He adjusted his round glasses before returning your hand shake. “Miss. Y/l/n, so nice to finally meet you,” he replied. “As much as I’d love to stay and discuss your tapestry, I am currently overlooking a university class trip. So I’m afraid we’ll have to make this meeting quick.”

You nodded in understanding. “This won’t be an issue, doctor. I’m rather eager to hear what you have in store.” You both took a seat, and you found the pillow seats to be rather comfortable although quite worn from use.

“Now then,” Dr. Kim began, “may I?”

Once more, you nodded and grabbed the folded cloth from your leather bag. You placed it on the table before unfolding it to reveal the intricate image woven into it centuries ago. Although many colors graced it, it was beginning to fade from age. You could only imagine how vibrant it must’ve looked when it was first crafted.

Dr. Kim adjusted his glasses once more as he took in the history before him. You could practically see the wheels and gears turn in his mind. His eyes scanned it rather intensely, as if it was the last piece of Indian history on earth. Finally, he lifted his eyes up to you with a questioning look. “May I ask where you got this?” he asked, his hand cupping his chin in thought.

You smiled fondly as you recalled the memory. “My grandmother gave it to me. She told me she won it in a game of poker from an Indian lord back in the day,” you chuckled. You and your grandmother were always very close, and you were sad to remember how she passed away just a year prior to this trip. Perhaps she was the reason why you were so adamant on finding answers to the mystery of this tapestry.

The historian laughed almost breathily, and you noticed the cute dimples form as his lips formed a smile. “I should have figured, this doesn’t look like something that an Indian lord would be willing to part with.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and slight curiousity. “How so?” you prodded further.

He spread out his arms and if to say behold. “Well, this is finely made for starters, only the best quality of thread was used to craft this, and it is nicely preserved as well. The style of design used here suggests that this was made during the classic period of India,” he explained, his eyebrows raised in astonishment.

Unfortunately, you weren’t quite informed on the history of India. So you couldn’t exactly place a year on that given information. “So when’s that?” you asked, feeling a tiny bit embarrassed on how ignorant you were.

“Well...” His voice trailed off as his mind went to work. “If I had to pick a year. I’d say this was made in the early hundreds... B.C.” He rubbed a hand on his neck, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

Your jaw fell unceremoniously as you could feel the air in your lungs disappear instantly. “You’re saying I’ve been carrying an artifact... that’s thousands of years old...?”

He laughed sheepishly and nodded, which only lurched your stomach to your throat. You almost used that tapestry as a napkin on multiple occasions. Also, how on earth has this thing not unraveled or dissolved yet?! “Holy shit...” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Like I said, this has been preserved very well.”

“Um, yeah, I’d say so...” You ran your fingers through your hair. “How come the other historians back in England didn’t have heart attacks over this?”

Dr. Kim shrugged his shoulders, a small smile gracing his lips. “No offense, but British people aren’t interested in Indian history.” He then looked at his wrist watch abruptly. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss. Y/l/n, but I’m afraid I have to get going. I have to make sure my students haven’t wandered off and gotten themselves killed.”

You blinked yourself out of your bewildered daze and redirected your attention to the doctor. “Oh! Erm, of course, doctor. This has all been a very...” Your voice trailed off as you searched for the proper word to use in this situation. “... enlightening experience.” You stood up as you said this and made your way back inside.

“Namjoon, I-”

Suddenly, your body collided into another person, causing yourself to lose your balance all but for a moment. You held up your hands as if show how apologetic you were. Your eyes landed upon a much younger man than Dr. Kim. He had a youthful appearance that made it seem as if he hadn’t even graduated college quite yet. He was dressed in a nice, white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, khakis, and brown leather shoes.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was as his chubby cheeks flushed a faint tinge of pink. He smiled sheepishly and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “Ah, sorry, ma’am,” he apologized earnestly. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You lowered your hands and returned a warm smile of your own. “It’s no problem. The fault’s mine, my mind is a little frazzled at the moment,” you explained, chuckling at the end of your statement.

Dr. Kim then stepped into the exchange. “Jungkook, I’d like you to meet Miss. Y/l/n. She is a reporter covering the independence movement.”

Jungkook bowed his head in greeting, his dark hair brushing over his beautiful eyes. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” You couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter ever so slightly in your chest.

“Jungkook is one of my students,” Dr. Kim informed, a look of pride glimmering in his eyes. “He’s probably here to tell me about the other students, right?”

The student blinked his eyes, as if suddenly remembering why he came up there in the first place. “Oh, yes. Jaehee wanted to show you some pots she believed were made in the eighteenth century.”

The doctor arched an eyebrow in slight interest, digging his hand in his pockets. “Did she now? Well then, I better go and see for myself.” He nodded his head to you. “Miss Y/l/n.” With that, he left with the student. You were now alone with the ancient tapestry. You suddenly felt as if you were unworthy to carry around such a valuable artifact. Perhaps she could donate it to a national museum? Who was she kidding? The British might get wind of it and steal it for themselves.

You grabbed the tapestry and exited the bar, heading down the stairs, your footsteps echoing off the walls. You couldn’t believe it. Your grandmother won a two millennia tapestry in a game of cards. If you went to the right people, you could end up a millionaire. Finally, you could live an easy life without scrambling around for every odd job.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you were just about to put the tapestry back in your leather bag, but a cheery voice suddenly spoke up. “That’s quite a drape you have there.”

You turned your head to the source of the sound and found yourself looking at a small, make-shift shop set up in the far back area of the room. Colorful blankets and curtains hung around to give the shop a rather bohemian appearance. The shopkeeper sat on a comfy looking pillow behind his stand, looking up at you with a sweet smile.

Curiousity piqued your interest as you took a few steps at the shop. You brushed away a few giant leaves from the potted plants arranged at the sides of his stall. His whole vibrant arrangement gave off a rather magical, almost fairytale aesthetic.

“It’s not a drape,” you corrected him. “It’s a tapestry.”

He tilted his head to the side quizzically. “What is the difference between a drape and a tapestry?” he questioned, his chin resting on his folded hands.

You pondered on it for a few moments. “A tapestry has images on it, I suppose.”

“I guess you’re right there,” he replied, a rich laughter escaping his lips.

You looked at a sign standing next to him that was written in both Indian and English. “Hope’s... World...?” you read questioningly.

He smiled sweetly again. “My wish is for my products to be the solution for all your hopes and dreams.” He gestured for you to sit on the pillow laid out on the other side of where he was sitting.

You accepted his invitation and sat down, mostly because you were curious of what this shop exactly was. “So then... Mr...?”

“Hoseok,” he introduced himself, extending a hand out to you, which you shook. You then gave him your name

“Alright then, Hoseok, what is it that you do exactly?” you asked, noticing all the different spices and herbs strewn about on various shelves.

Suddenly, Hoseok got up from his seat and moved toward the back shop. “I’m what you call in your language a tea merchant,” he explained. “I simply sell teas that help ease all your troubles away.” He then returned with two cups and a steaming pot. He sat back down on his pillow and poured the warm liquid in both cups, offering you one.

You gladly accepted the drink and sipped on it, tasting the sweet spices on your tongue. “Is this chai tea?” you questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

He laughed again, setting the pot to the side. “Ah, you British, you know your teas very well.” He then whispered, “It’s a secret recipe of mine. My mother would kill me if I told you.”

You then smiled as you took another drink. “Say no more, I had a grandmother who has an amazing custard tart that she said she’d take to her grave,” you recalled, chuckling at the fond memories. Your mind began to relax and feel calm. You were unsure if it was because of the tea or the soothing atmosphere of the tea shop that calmed you.

Hoseok gave you an excited grin. “May I see your tapestry, please?” He bounced on his pillow like a child opening his presents on Christmas. You couldn’t help but comply with what he asked. After all, it was merely two thousand years old. What’s the worst that could happen?

As you unfolded the tapestry, Hoseok viewed it over intently, running his long fingers over the fabric. He seemed absolutely enthralled by the worn pictures and faded colors. His childlike eyes ran over the tapestry over and over again, taking everything in as if he would never see it ever again. He finally tore his gaze away and looked up with a knowing smile. “This tells a story, you know,” he revealed, catching you off guard.

You raised your eyebrows in astonishment. “Really?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yes, you see these people here...” He pointed to a group of people who appeared to be fleeing away from soldiers on horses, who were firing their bows upon them. You couldn’t help but feel slight pity for them, but nonetheless nodded. “These aren’t Indians at all. They are, in fact, my ancestors, Koreans, fleeing from their homeland from the Chinese in 108 B.C.” He then pointed at the soldiers. “My people fled to protect the most valuable treasure in our kingdom. The Dragon of the Stars, said to be made of every precious gemstone on earth.” He moved his finger back to animated Korean who was carrying something in his arms, but the color was too faded to really decipher what it was. On the other hand, you could barely make out the outline of what appeared to be a small dragon. However, you would have never known it was a dragon if Hoseok hadn’t pointed it out.

The tea seller continued, “My people fled to the one place the Chinese couldn’t reach, where this tapestry was made.”

“India,” you breathed out, followed by a stifled yawn. “I’m sorry, I don’t find this boring. Please continue.”

Hoseok chuckled. “I suppose it has been a very exciting day for you. It certainly has been for me now that I’ve seen this.” His eyes crawled back down to the tapestry. “You are a lucky woman to have this. I’d estimate this would cost a few million.”

You leaned against your propped up arm, finding your eyelids to grow heavier and heavier by the second. “A few million?” You drawled out, yawning once more. “That’s a lot... Say, Hoseok, how could you tell this explained that story just by looking at it?”

Hoseok smiled, finding your drowsy attitude to be rather cute. “I guess you could say I’ve always been interested in the history of my people.”

You mumbled in agreement. “I should be going now. I don’t know why I’m suddenly exhausted right now.” You reached out to grab the tapestry, content with the knowledge Hoseok shared with you. In fact, once you rested up, you were definitely going to find someone who would pay the right price for this.

You could see the deflated look in Hoseok’s eyes, but he reluctantly allowed you to leave. “Here, let me help you,” he offered, folding up the tapestry into a neat pile.

You were about to help him when a huge bout of exhaustion overwhelmed you. You swayed from side to side, finding the floor to sway as you wobbled. Your eyelids felt as if weights hung from them, dragging them down further by the second. You felt as if you hadn’t slept in a week.

“Hoseok...” you mumbled before suddenly collapsing to the floor.

The last thing you saw before you fell into unconsciousness was Hoseok smiling sweetly upon you with the radiance of a thousand suns. He looked absolutely heavenly, as if he was a god come down to bestow his blessings upon you. “Sweet dreams, Y/n...”

You obeyed him and fell into a deep sleep.

—————————————

“Who are you?”

“You may call me Mr. Kim... Kim Seokjin...”

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