Even After You Die

THREE

I sit up. I'm in bed.

Strange, I don't ever remember putting on pajamas. Come to think of it, I don't even remember driving back to the apartment. I slide my legs over to the side of the bed and grab my phone. It's Tuesday, May 12th.

Wait, yesterday was September. Had I... what's going on? My phone must be malfunctioning. I'll get it looked at later today. I step away from my bed, leaving my phone on the pillow, and walk out into the hallway. I can't help but stare at Haneul's door. Missing him like this, it hurts; if only he really was there. It's slightly cracked, the door, but I'm pretty sure it was shut the last time I saw it. I walk over to close it when I see someone shift in his bed. I freeze.

A burglar? At five in the morning? Not likely.

Maybe I'm seeing things. I open the door wider and my jaw drops.

A man's back is to me, sleeping peacefully in the white of the sheets. My feet move me closer, ignoring the rule of having to knock first. Besides, he's not really there, is he? He's just a depiction of my imagination conjured up from my depressed and guilty conscience.

I'm inches away from the bed when he turns over, his broad chest facing me. I choke on an inhale. If this really is him, being here right now is a big no-no.

His eyes are closed and I can't help but swoon over his thick, dark eyelashes. His black hair sticks up to and fro, covering his perfectly placed eyebrows. His straight, rounded nose and perfectly pink lips... God truly blessed this man with excellent facial features.

Against my better judgment, I brush away the strands of hair to better look at his face. My fingers graze his skin, I can feel his warmth, and I know he's really there. Something heavy on my shoulders melts and I feel an unfamiliar warmth circle my chest.

I trace his cheek down to his jaw, I shouldn't but I swear I can't help it. He's just too beautiful... and alive. There's a string on the hem of his shirt, catching my attention. I grab it and flick it away. Then I freeze, I should probably just pick it up and throw it away. One thing I do remember fully is that Haneul likes things tidy.

I bend over to pick it up again, inspecting it for no particular reason as I stand up again. A tingly sensation creeps on the back of my neck and I let my vision focus past the string.

Two beautiful brown eyes are staring dead at my face.

I screech, my hands flailing up to cover my mouth, the string flung away again. He blinks at me as if he doesn't believe I'm really standing in his room. I turn around and tiptoe away, but his hand reaches up to grab my arm and I'm suddenly pulled into his bed.

Flat on my back, I find myself staring once again into Haneul's eyes as he looms over me. His gaze lowers and I suddenly remember I'm not wearing a bra. My arms slip out of his grasp to cover my chest.

His cheeks turn slightly pink and he steps away from the bed.

"May I ask what you're doing in my room at this hour?" He yawns.

I slide off his bed, still in shock that he's living, breathing right in front of me. And also a little flustered at what he just did.

"I... I just had to make sure you were alright." Without another moment to waste I dart out of his room and into mine, not even bothering to pick up the string again.

But to my dismay, Haneul follows me into my bedroom.

"Hey, you can't be in here!" I wave my hands to shoo him away.

"If you can come into my quarters, I can come into yours." He leans an arm across the door frame. His eyes fall to the stack of papers on the dresser.

It occurs to me that if I've gone back in time, this must be the morning before I give them to him. I run to the dresser and snatch the papers, hiding them behind my back. And even if this is just a dream, I don't want this fantasy to pan out as it did in real life.