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Myeong & Roco

Aisha did not return by the time they lifted off again. The three women exchanged concerned glances but did not speak. Rachel was looking low. Alexis and Chloe were lost in their thoughts. Myeong was trying very hard to keep control of her trembling.

Who was next?

The door opened and Aisha returned. Myeong watched the tall blonde alien behind her, his handsome face drawn into a frown, a deep furrow between his eyes. He led her gently back to her spot, kissed her on the cheek, then left.

Aisha's face was swollen with tears. Her eyes were red. Gripping her hands together, she looked down into her lap. Rachel touched her shoulder and murmured something but Aisha shook her head.

The next to go was Alexis. She returned shortly after, no tears, her face set. Typical Alexis. She spoke to no one and kept her eyes to her feet. Since they were both from America, Chloe headed out soon after. Then she, too, returned. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. Now, there was no one left. Myeong felt their attention like a prickling over her shoulders.

From America to Britain in hardly any time at all. The door slid open. Myeong felt numb as she stood. Her feet pulled her over to Roco who was standing quietly in the doorway. He took her hand and together they departed the ship.

'You don't have to do this,' he reminded her as they made their way down the ramp.

Myeong didn't respond.

Hand in hand, they walked along the path through the cool night air. Their footsteps crunched against the gravel. Behind them, the ship was dark and quiet and was slowly vanishing behind the trees. Straight ahead was home. No. Paul's home. It had never really been hers. He'd just let her live there. It grew taller and taller at their approach until it stood over her like a mountain.

Her heart was pounding. She felt dizzy. She gripped her throat as they entered the little front yard with its little wooden fence and stone path.

'I am here. Nothing will happen to you,' Roco told her.

Her shoes scuffed up the three steps. She wobbled a little when she made the top but Roco braced his hand against her back. She took a shuddering breath as she stared at the door. Though she wore a warm top she felt cold. She felt the prickling of nervous sweat behind her ears.

'Myeong ...'

Rounding her shoulders, she took the handle. It wasn't even locked. The door opened with a creak. Myeong hesitated briefly before stepping over the threshold, her eyes fastened upstairs upon the floor above. Don't look around the house. Keep focused. Time is short. Get this done.

Roco kept close behind as she climbed, smoothing her hand over the banister. All the lights were off but moonlight gleamed through the windows. The smells, the sound of her footsteps, the way her breath seemed to echo alongside her heartbeat—it all drew her back to those nights, those days ...

Myeong was breathless with fear by the time she reached the second floor. Three rooms. First room. Second room. Bathroom. She passed them by quietly, stopping in front of the main bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, darkness within. How did she want to do this? She hadn't been able to think when back on the ship.

Quietly, she pushed the door open. Myeong stared at the bed. She couldn't see him. She couldn't see anything. But she should hear breathing. His breathing. She knew it so well. Myeong bit her lip. Roco's warm hand slid into hers. She looked up at his huge dark figure and the pressure in her chest eased slightly. She flicked on the light.

There was a gasp. A figure sat up in bed. Roco's hand jerked in hers. It was a woman: long dark hair, thin and small, almost birdlike. Even smaller than Myeong. No. Not a woman; barely a woman. It seemed Paul hadn't taken long to move on. Had he missed her at all?