fallin flower, yoon jeonghan

09

song:
loveable - jo yuri

SPIRALING

She hugged herself as the water dropped onto her exposed back, it pattering onto her skin and creating ripples, relieving the pressure in her body, and temporarily subduing the inevitable.

Her head was roaring in confusion, so loud, it overcame the noise of the water dropping—the oddity of these occurrences. The resemblance to the heat she felt simmer in her dreams, except the heat in reality hurt, but felt as if it was supposed to be there; like the pain was meant for her.

Haco's disappearance, unlikely rage, encrusted ash, and now dramatic sickness. Something was obviously wrong, as right as the heat felt, even if it hurt, something was wrong.

But who was she supposed to go to? There was no one who would believe her and even if she decided to risk telling Jeonghan, there could be so many consequences.

Yes, supernaturals were real, but Chiasa was not one. This town didn't hold a population of supernaturals evidently. It just couldn't be that she was one.

Maybe one was encrusted into her soul like she was cursed. It was the best guess she's come up with, still, Haco didn't seem to be a threat and how could she have been cursed? Nothing really made sense.

Although the shower provided some relief, its temperature began to slowly drop, signaling her to get out. She wrapped herself in her gray robe and even though she was ready to leave the bathroom she didn't. The small room, with steam floating around the room, was her refuge, where no one could see her turmoil.

In the steamed mirror, she looked at her distorted figure. Not being able to see herself made her mind travel to the man she presumed was in her living room. Her curiosity about his past never vanished, it was just pushed down as she tackled everything else.

Thinking of him made her realize, her life isn't so mundane anymore. Even though not much greatness had occurred, the pace changed, and the company of the stranger— that deep down she loved to be more than just two strangers— became beneficial.

Still searching for purpose, her life was less concrete, unstable in the best way and it seemed that he was the first step into a journey that seemed fruitful even if it really is just many splashes of different hues of gray onto her life.

The steam hovered on the mirror but it was beginning to decrease and fall off. Her face was becoming more recognizable, which made the pace of her frail heart pick up.

Those eyes weren't of her own. An illusion of Haco's cat-like eyes felt painted onto hers, her eyes were naturally defined but these were not her own. A shrill high-pitched short-lived scream escaped her dry cupid's bow lips. The more she looked the more she realized they were less cat-like and more like a hawk, or a bird that lives on the high part of the food chain.

It wasn't that she looked like a bird, just the casting of Haco's eyes, the shape mixed with the color she saw before, a vivid amber resembling sparks that fly off of fires. It was haunting, something she didn't want to see. Self-pity mixed with horror as that illusion, hallucination whatever it really was dusted off of her face at a similar pace to the steamy fog.

"No." She practically cried out. Terrified at her own reflection, or whatever reflection that was. A nauseated feeling, no burning sensation like earlier present, flew up her throat and once again she was hunched over. But now over the toilet in her own home instead of a trashcan feet away from a crime scene.

It would be incorrect that Jeonghan didn't hear the scream or the retching, and it would be a lie if he wasn't outside the bathroom door contemplating if to knock. He didn't find her throwing up at the horrific scene she saw earlier odd. But the scream was more concerning.