「 deja vu」° || baek kyung ||

ᴇᴘɪʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

She dreamt of him long before they crossed paths.

His laughter mixed with the crashing of waves; a lopsided dimpled smile; letters and white flowers that slipped from her grasp like grains of sand; warmth seeping into her through an intimate embrace; the ghost of a touch down her spine — a glimpse of a life next to someone long ago.

It felt too good to be true and so, just like her flatmate had advised her, she brushed it off by labelling it as a 'result of reading too many romance comics'. Besides, what was the point of dwelling on the dreams when she didn't even know what the person looked like?

⚜

"My name's Haru."

She craned her neck upwards, clicking her tongue at the boy who towered over her. "I know." She grumbled, "You introduce yourself to me every time we see each other."

He looked pleasantly surprised and couldn't keep the smile from forming on his face, "I'm glad we get to see each other again."

This Haru never stopped fussing over her. He'd ask if she had slept properly, if she was doing well in classes, and made sure that she never skipped lunch. The one time she had mentioned it to her flatmate, Aeil had excitedly wondered whether he had had a crush on her. The idea was immediately shot down because, for some reason, just the thought of it was disgusting.

As Haru pointed out that the orange splatter of paint on her bright blue shirt resembled that of a sweetgum leaf, she wondered whether he had siblings back home.

⚜

As she got up to leave the library, the boy across the table slid her a note. They often sat together without exchanging any words. This was quite possibly the first time he had spoken to her.

"I think this is yours." He said, returning to his books. A baseball cap lay next to his things.

She frowned, examining the slip of paper. It was a phone number and it was very clear that it wasn't addressed to her. She handed it back to the boy.

"No, it's definitely yours. The library assistant left it while you had left for a bit." She swung her bag over her shoulders, "And also, because my name is not Jung. See?" Her finger tapped at the top of the note before she glanced at the other name on the paper. 'Taek' with a heart next to it.

Something flickered in his eyes and for a second she thought they had met before. But it was impossible. With the exception of Kim Aeil, she had never had friends outside of the orphanage.

"Oh." He nodded a thanks, "Um...okay. See you around."

"You too, Jung."

⚜

The world was unbearably loud and overwhelming. It drove her over the edge and made her feel anxious because something was off.

But then, in the sea of strangers, she accidentally collided with him while hurrying to her next class one day and everything stopped.

The harsh bumping of their shoulders had caused his glasses to go flying into the grass. She blurted out an embarrassed apology while fumbling to pick them up. He squinted at her, as if he recognized her voice, and waited for her to hand him his glasses. As he slipped them up his nose, his eyes widened ever so slightly.

She held his gaze and felt the tips of her fingers and the back of her neck buzz. Her heart twisted and thumped wildly, as if it would jump out of her ribcage. The whole world around them stopped spinning in that moment and quietened down. It calmed her down.

Until her traitorous mouth broke the silence by saying, "I love you."

"What?" He was as taken aback as she was.

She shook her head, face turning the same faint shade of pink as his knitted cardigan, "No, I—I meant 'I'm sorry'."

He blinked and smiled that lopsided, dimpled smile, making her feel as if she had awoken from a century long coma. "It's alright."

"I think I dreamt of you." She admitted and strangely, it didn't feel as if she was talking to a stranger. Jolting out of her fantasy-like daze, she mumbled another apology, tucking her short hair behind her ears, "That was—sorry, I don't know why—"

"It's alright." He repeated gently, "I think I've known you all my life."

A vague memory flitted through their minds. A familiar bittersweet feeling exploded in them, making them reach for each other at the same time. His fingers threaded through her hair.

"I found you first." He whispered.

"As if." The deluge of emotions that she was experiencing was overpowered by slow spread of the fear of the unknown. "What now?" She spoke softly, against the fabric on his chest, "Now that we're here—now that we're together, Kyung, what do we do?"

Kyung looked so different and yet felt the same. He tilted her chin so that she was looking at him again.

"Whatever you wish for, Yeonha," His thumb brushed against her jaw, "We can live as ourselves now."

The autumn breeze rustled the branches over their heads. Somewhere far away, she imagined that she heard the feeble noise of the turning of a page.

"For now, we are free."

⚜