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"love's an odd, spectacular feeling. like i knew it was dangerous but i knew it'd be worth it. it felt like everything we were raised not to feel."
☆☆☆
Eunbyeol has never liked the Moon Manor. It's beautiful, with lavish decorations and lush gardens, but it's cold and hollow and echoes far too much for a home that has been lived in for over fifty years.
Her mother disapparates them into the hallway. "Unpack your things." Her words are faintly repeated as they echo down the hallway. The chill from the house already begins to set into Eunbyeol's body and seems to seep into her skin as her mother briskly walks away.
The girl walks through the twisting corridors and finally enters her room. She shuts the door behind her and slumps against it. Eunbyeol wants to scream. She can almost see it clawing at the her throat, shredding her insides into deep pink ribbons with jagged black nails. She closes her eyes and inhales and exhales deeply, forcing the sound to retreat back into the crevices of her mind. She glances around, noticing that her room is just as she left it, covered in beiges, creams, and whites. Did it always look this colorless? Eunbyeol tilts her head, frowning at the room. The walls are white, and her furniture is a pale beige. Her owl, Haseul, is covered in pure white feathers and rests in a slim, silver cage. Even her trunk suits the room, painted a pale beige. It's neatly placed at the foot of her bed, and she kneels down and opens it.
The first thing Eunbyeol sees is a photo of her and Cedric, protected by a thin sheet of glass and a plain, delicate border of silver. She remembers contemplating throwing the photo away, but tossing it into her trunk as a rash, last minute decision. They're sitting under a tree by the Great Lake, and he's nudging her arm and saying something to her and she's laughing at him and beaming at the camera. A book is propped on her lap and a golden egg is lying on the grass between them.
"I'm telling you, the egg sounds horrendous when it's opened!" Cedric protests loudly. He leans against the tree in exasperation.
Eunbyeol is sitting with her legs delicately crossed beneath her. A linguistics book rests on her lap. "I know, Cedric. I was there when you opened it, and I told you, I'm fairly certain it's a language of some sort."
"What an awful language," The older boy shakes his head sympathetically. "Imagine having to screech like that all the time just to communicate with someone."
