The white linen drapes stretched right to the floor and billowed as the breeze came in through the open windows. Hyemi awoke to soft sheets, a warm enfold - warm enough to cause her bones to ignite, and a steady beat under her right ear. Her muscles begin to tighten, and her eyes flicker to the unbothered male under her, whos eyes were closed shut in the wee hours of the morning.

She has an urge to scramble back to sleep, but her eyes refuse to hibernate a second time, so she cautiously places her ear back to his chest, concentrating on his tranquillizing pulse that drifts her thoughts away to a past, joyful memory. They are a happy bundle on tangled legs and unseperated arms on his cosy bed, and she likes that for now.

It's almost embarrassing how uncaring she is of their position.

His features are so soft, so ethereal in the faint shadows of the sliding drapes. His face is deceptively calm, so unassuming and innocent, that she has a terrifying, powerful desire to touch his face, to run her fingers through the falling strands across his eyes and caress his sharp jaw, the bridge of his perfect nose and so much more. To do things she's ashamed to voice out aloud.

And so she does.

Her unsure fingertips softly glide to his cheekbone, tracing his calm features. They hover above his closed eyelids, and drift to outline the straight bridge of his nose. As they linger absent mindedly above his lips, her breath hitches as she stare at them. Strings of yesterday's scenes flicker between her eyes, and her fingers draw back. She crawls out of the warm sheets she's caught in, and with one last guilty look at the unstirring male, she stumbles into the bathroom across the hall.

Her eyes catch the sight of her face as she leans back and crings. She barely recognized herself. Her eyes are puffy, red and swollen - possibly from the amount of time she wasted crying yesterday. Her strands are a proud bird-nest, left uncurled and free, and she runs her fingers through them, only to untangle the knots she finds. She's only wearing the mid-thigh shirt Luhan distributed to her, and her pale legs were bare.

And my oh my, doesn't his shirt smell good.

Once she was sure her face was free from any trace of make-up, or evidence that she cried, she leaves. And out the door, she notices the lean, tall figure of someone by the wall. His fresh look, with him holding a mug filled with the scent of warm tea and honey, drives out a wary smile from her lips. He sure does know how to make her day better.

"Baby Hye, you look terrible." He scrunched his nose with effort, and she snorts.

"I'm leaving no comment for that, sherlock." Hyemi mutters while glancing back at the blonde male. It doesn't function in her mind, how she and Kris became friends - mind you, extremely close friends. But she can always blame it on the advanced Night classes and HyunRim. It's as if they won't survive a day without insulting or embarrassing each other, which drove them to this state. But if she needs comfort, he definitely won't bail her.

"In need of a hug?" He already had his arms spread.

Hyemi exhales, cradling the mug he handed her a minute ago with her nimble fingers. She bites her lower lip, coming to realize that Kris won't even care if she refuses, and will pull her into an excellent hug anyway."Yes, please. And make it tight enough to knock the air out of me, too."

"Right away, ma'am." He chuckles, before gently yanking her into a firm embrace. His head settles by her head, murmuring. "Y'know, I should begin charging fees for this. I shouldn't give out luxurious hugs for free."

"Shut up." She mumbles, before punching his shoulder blade - causing him to wince. At then, she clutches enough fabric of his shirt in her hand, trying to remember how this feels. "Oh, Kris. What am I supposed to do now?"

...

Time dissolved into itself, and the hours became minutes through her eyes. At the time she went back to her own room, she refused to utter a word or any to the girls. And she kept her performance until it was their break, where she kept spacing out, staring at the marble floors. Just as Night classes began, Hyemi flew to the hall, eager for a distraction. Her eyes were a broken record, replaying yesterday's scenes over and over, which didn't help at all with her mental health.

She slips her garments in lifelessly : a pair of black leggings, with a jetblack blazer that will fight the nasty cold away. Above all that, she chose to wear a combact jacket underneath, since her teeth were still chattering. Once she grabbed her boots and gloves, her attire was perfect.

Her fingers tug on the straps of her leather gloves, ignoring the other two girls who were silently stripping out their clothes for the Night classes gear. The weight of their pity is like a stone tied about her neck. And she can still feel the little side glances, the hushed whispers that are carried around her air. So she digs her nails into her gloved palms and say nothing as she strains to see movement in the thickening dark. Anger of their pity hums beneath her skin, and Hyemi decides she had enough pity to last her a lifetime, so she stalks out the room, chin up and spine straight.

...

"Today, we fight. But the only weapons you're allowed to hold is your own strength and a stick." Mrs.Jung declares, and Hyemi's skin sends a tremor down her spine.

As the students surround each other in a corner of the practice field, their mentor, Mrs.Jung, begins picking partners. They begin running practice drills, and the sharp slap of wooden sticks slamming against each other fills the air. The practice sticks are heavy enough to to approximate the weight of a sword and long enough to lengthen their reach and change their balance. Hefting her stick, Hyemi finds Hyuna, her partner, waiting for her at a corner of a wall, and they begin.

Once they are sparring, last day's scene once again hit, and she had enough. She can't witness the scene again without flashing her eyes back to Baekhyun's pitying eyes, Hyuna's sympethatic glances, and HyunRim's effort to cheer up. Rage is fiery beast, caged beneath the ribs of her chest, begging to be released. The locks of his chain snap, and the torment starts. She's too blind but from the sight of their sympathizing stares.

So when Hyuna's stick whistles through the air as she swings it to her side, she pivots and slam her stick to her weapon. The power of it reverberates up her arm. Hyemi swings to the left, ferocity rattling her bones with fury, and slams the hardest end of her stick against her partner's thigh.

How many times will they stare at her with empathy?

How many times will they look down at her as a pitiful girl who lost everything? The sad, pathetic being?

The girl who was betrayed over and over?

Heat stains her cheek with humiliation, gushing through her body, and she grips her stick harder. When her rival swings wildly at her side, she ducks, executes a half turn, and jabs her harshly across the back with her own stick. Hyuna flinches and releases her stick to the ground so she can press her hand against the skin she bruised. Hyemi grabs her arm, spin her around, and drives her to lay by her back on the base. Her fingers curl around her stick, slashing it towards her neck.

"Hyemi, stop!" Someone yanks her arm away, before slamming his own weapon to hers. The impact makes it fly from her hand and clatter to the ground.

Her eyes blink, and she regains composure. Her lips are salty, and only then she realizes she's crying.

"You can stop holding the stick now. No need to kill her. It's over, you've won." Luhan gently says, and the compassion in his voice makes her want to inflect damage to his body instead.

Her tears dry, and the rage disappears with them. The silence within her absorb her, and it takes a moment to be aware that all their eyes are on them. Stepping back from both Hyuna and Luhan, she wipes her hands on her pants and refuse to look at the two.

Had Baekhyun's betrayal broke her this much?

Enough to have a desire to destroy her own friend for understanding her situation?

All of them remain silent.

Without waiting for a response, she walks away. Out the field, through the empty, bleak halls, and far away. Hyemi keeps her head high and shoulders tense, through there's no one left to see it.

She won't look weak again.

Not for Luhan, Hyuna, HyunRim, and the others.

Not for anyone.