Pose For Me | K.TH

30

TAEHYUNG

Soft hands.

I can feel the cool touch graze my face, leaving behind a pleasant chill. Heat is everywhere else, and I find myself struggling to focus on the fingertips against my cheek.

There's a silhouette over me, a slender shadow.

A name echoes in the corner of my sluggish mind.

Aila.

More.

I shift my hand heavily towards the hand on my cheek. My own fingers feel like fire, but it feels better against hers. In the distance, there's a quiet sigh.

Is it mine?

Does it matter?

Her hand stays still in my grip. And I'm thankful as I lean deeper into her touch, eyes closing into darkness again. And when her other hand gently shifts across my forehead, brushing back the dark locks above my brow, there's a pleasant happiness in my chest.

Séjour.

Séjour, l'amour.

Rester pour toujours.

But then in my cloudiness, I feel her hand slightly shift. Then it slowly draws away, taking all of the softness— the pleasant chill.

I grip her tighter, wanting to pull her back.

My mouth won't move. But does she not feel me?

Her hand slips out of mine. And the fever rushes back into my body the moment the last of her touch leaves me, filling me up with the heat. I feel like I might suffocate.

Come back.

My hand searches for hers. But I don't find anything in the darkness, nothing but emptiness. And then it's just the fever, the sweat matting my clothes to my skin and my hair to my neck.

Where have you gone?

Then there's a sudden feeling of my heart crashing down to the bottom of my chest.

Had she left?

Left?

My hand freezes. And then my heart is beating so fast that I can't breathe, throat filling with rushed breaths and choked gasps. The fever replaces with ice.

Then my eyes jerk open.

I sit up, sweating furiously, in my own bed. Rough gasps echo the entire room, dark with night. I'm in different clothes than the ones I remember.

Mon Dieu.

Had I slept through the day?

I tug on the neckline of the shirt.

Then the door swings open, making my head jerk upwards.

Aila.

She sweeps into the room, eyes widening when she sees me upright. There's a glass of water in her hands, and my eyes instantly draw to it, full of thirst.

"Tae."

Her steps hurry.

"When did you wake up?" She asks quietly, pressing the cold glass into my hand. It chills the burning in my throat, and I look up at her and her face, cupped with rich dark locks.