She rubbed her eyes which was now secreting tears. It flowed down her cheeks, as a sweat would do in your chest after a nice volleyball game. Her eyes were beginning to redden now as she had just cried while reading the notebook she was clutching in her hands.

The notebook was an old one, molten and browned by age. It's pages were already aeons behind the pages of the notebooks today but nevertheless Tiffany liked it. She was after all an antique lover.

For the past moments, she had flipped the pages of the old notebook, skimming through every pages and reading what's inside it. The letters on the paper was alive as if it was a movie that she began to sob. The writings make her feel overwhelming sadness, not to mention unconditional grief upon remebering her once again.

She was clutching her grandmother's diary, the deceased Mi-young as she closed her eyes to make out what she read. Her grandmother was a fragile girl who fell in love with some Andrew Choi. Not familiar with the name, she tried her best to ignore him but can't. The name seemed to affect her much.

Was she angry with him? Not possible as she was not that emotional to plant anger to anyone she doesn't even know. But the name is something like a magnet. It attracts her.

She opened her eyes this time and raised her head, fighting the fatigue she was feeling after reading the long tale of her grandmother's romance. She expected the dirty house welcoming her vonce again but she saw a different scenario.

Surprisingly, she was still on the house, but it's undeniably cleaner. The curtains covering the furniture earlier were no longer there. She reached on the phone on her pocket but found no trace of it. Her hands then flew to silk gown she's wearing. It was not the checkered blouse and skinny jeans she's wearing earlier. Far from it. She looked at the mirror and saw she was wearing nowhere same to what she was wearing a while ago. There before her, was the reflection of herself wearing a garment nowhere close to a blouse and a jeans. A yellow gown used by traditional Koreans.

She frowned as she saw that her hairdo had altered too. She frowned. A while ago, her hair was an image of mess and shambles but now it was tied neatly in a ponytail. And also, she no longer had the make-up masked all over her face, as it was replaced by the natural hue of her face.

She looked around the room once again. The room was indeed the room she had been but it was mysteriously altered. It was as if she had just transported back to the past.

That rang a bell on her head. She quickly ran to the door and viciously struggled to open it. The double door then creaked open, revealing a huge stairway, nowhere near the dusty stairway she saw earlier. The hall was dimly lit by incandescent lamps and the hall was deserted.

She walked on the white tiles. A few hours before, she was stepping on a yellowed tile but now she was on a clean and new floor.

Was she really sent back to time?

A tall guy then caught her eye. He was standing by the doorway of the other room. He was clutching something that Tiffany couldn't make out. A flower perhaps?

She paced closer to him as she tried her best to recognize the guy. The guy then turned, sensing her presence. Now Tiffany what he had in his arms. A bouquet of flowers indeed.

“Hey Mi-young!” He said in English which was peculiar for Tiffany since she only knew few Koreans who can speak the language. After a moment, she realized that the guy called her in a different name.

Not just a name but her grandmother's!

Was she really in the past?

***

This a short teaser for the fic. I promise to update as soon as I can.Comments were loved and appreciated.