O N E;

I peeled open my eyelids that felt as if they had been sewed shut for too long. The intensity of sunlight hurt when I opened my eyes. I had to blink a couple of times for them to adjust to it. I allowed them to wander around, only to find that I was in a room that was surrounded with white furnitures - White racks, white side table, white walls, white couch. On the couch sat a woman who had dozed off, her head supported on her wrist. She had wrinkles etched at the edges of her eyes and at both sides of her lips, her hazel brown hair laid carelessly across her shoulder, remnants of tears across her cheek.

I couldn't help but cringed. She's my mother.

"Mum," I said, propping myself up with my elbows but they were too weak and I fell back down. I let out a pained breath. My chest. It hurt . Images flashed behind my eyelids. Blood, cars, fire. And, everything came into a clarity. I nearly died in a car crash and, this was a hospital. That explained it. I felt a tinge of warmth on my arm and I saw my mother's wrinkled hand. The pair of smooth and delicate hands. Where have they gone when I was unconscious? I repeated, "Mum."

She smooched my forehead as usual but this time I could feel her pain, as raw as mine. There were tears in her eyes but I said nothing. I'm too exhausted for anything. She flashed a smile of relief at me, "It's fine, sweetheart. It won't hurt for long. I was so, so worried that the doctor would announce any transplant rejection and I'll never be able to see you again. Now that you're awake-"

"Transplant rejection? What happened, exactly?" I cut her off midsentence. I didn't know my condition was this serious.

Her lips pressed into a grim line, as though I had just reminded her of something she very much wanted to erase in her mind. Apparently, I had just made that stain more visible. Guilt engulfed me but I just had to know what happened. I mean, it was my body I was asking about. I have the right to, don't I? "You had a heart failure and the doctors have to get it replaced. Someone died in an accident and his parents agreed to donate his heart to you."

I don't know if my mother noticed through her tears but my eyes widened. My heart was removed but it was fortunate. Fortunate for someone to have his heart donated to me. Fortunate that my mother didn't have to cry over my death.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

The double door opened, and what greeted us was the usual warm atmosphere my home can offer. My mother slid a comforting arm around my shoulders and handed me my luggage before she went back out to go to work. Without my mother, a wave of dizziness came over me, the strong sensation that I was going to faint. My fingers could no longer hold the weight of my luggage and it slipped from my fingers, landing on the wooden floor with a loud thud. The next thing I knew I was falling backwards along the force of gravity. I shut my eyes tight, waiting for the impact but it didn't come. What came was a pair of hands steadying me. "How are you doing?" It was an unfamiliar voice.

My eyes sprang open and there seemed to be a sudden kinetic, almost feverish energy to me and I pulled away from him. It was a towering man. He had a rectangular face with a defined, slightly pointed chin and a sturdy jaw line. His hair - a charcoal black colour - was worn back, revealing his forehead. I had to admit, this guy was absolutely good looking but there wasn't the point. The point being, how long had he been here and why did I not know? He parted his full lips and smirked a playful smirk, "Or to be more precise, how's my heart doing?"

The hair rose along my arms and the back of my neck, prickling almost painfully. "What's that supposed to mean? And what are you doing here? Get out of my house!" my voice rose into a scream. I didn't know what he may do even though he seemed harmless. Strangers are never here for nothing. What was his intention?

"Come on, you above all people should have figured it out already," he said as he took a few strides towards me, the smirk still on his lips. His strides were large, I had to move back with more steps than I'd expected when my back hit the wall. "Careful there, it's my heart you're carrying inside." He pointed directly at my chest with his index finger where underneath was exactly where 'my' heart beat.

I laughed. Not because I find it funny but because everything this stranger said was absolutely ridiculous. But, I was wrong. So, so wrong. What's so funny? I heard his voice but not through my ears. He didn't move his mouth but I could hear his voice in my mind. I felt a wave of panic. "What did you do? How did I hear your voice without you speaking?" I asked, my lips quivering.

You can do it too, through the bond.

"What bond? Stop giving me rubbish and tell me what's going on!"

You have my heart. That's our bond, Park Ji Yeon. And, if you don't mind, do stop panicking. As I said, it's my heart you're carrying.

"You can feel me?" I asked incredulously.

Yes, I can. But even though I can't, your expression pretty much gave everything away. 

The smirk on his face grew wider and I hated it. "Kim Myungsoo! You're the guy who donated his heart and, you ... you were dead in an accident."

"My parents, to be exact. I didn't agree to anything but I guess that was the only thing they had done right for me. For your information, I did not die in an accident. My parents killed me." He finally stopped talking in mind and started speaking. I wasn't sure if it was because he started talking but I could feel the pain and hatred in his tone. But I wasn't concern. What I was concern about was that the guy who was talking to me was, in fact, a ghost.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you."

"Don't be. I don't wanna look pathetic."

"You don't look like one."

His smirk returned and I immediately regretted what I just said. I should have just kept my mouth shut and never talked again. "So, why can I see you if you're ... you know ... dead?" I asked before he could do anything to make me feel more uncomfortable than I already was. I had to accept that a guy can talk my head, a guy - ghost - who was not going to stop pestering me just because I have his heart and most importantly, he's a ghost. And my stomach knotted at that thought. It felt as if I was being haunted.

"The bond. I can do anything I want and people can't see me, but you," He leaned closer, so close that I could feel his body against me. Funny how a ghost can still have warmth in his body. "You, Jiyeon. You are different. You shared the bond with me and so you can see me, touch me and feel every ounce of my emotions. You can do whatever you want with me when people couldn't."

"I'm sorry to inform you that I have no intention in touching you," I shifted away uncomfortably and he followed, which made me frown and had gained me another smirk from him. "I don't care what bond we have. Just leave me alone. You said I can do whatever I want and this is the only thing I want. Get. Out. Of. My. Life."

"Unfortunately, that's also the only thing I can't give you my promise. We have the bond, and each day, you'll feel more attached to me and I'll feel the same. It's like two poles in a stretched rubber band. Let go and the poles will meet."

"Then don't let go," I pleaded. I returned from the edge of death and I didn't want to have any relationship with any of that darkness. I just wanted to be normal, live a normal life like a normal teenager. I'm only 17 and this isn't helping.

He dissapeared in a 'poof' and for a moment, I thought he was gone but then he reappeared behind me and whispered beside my ear, his lips tickling my ear, "No."

As you all have already noticed. The story title is not longer 'Bellis Perennis' because I think it'd take me a super long time before I start working on a chapter as it is actually a genre that's pretty new to me. This story 'Lovely Trap' however will take about 10 chapters or so, which means you can have a complete story sooner than 'Bellis Perennis'. I know I'm repeating myself when I've already said it in the foreword but you guys can go check out the foreword 'cause I've done some adjustments. So yeah, don't hate me. ;-; I just wanted to have a quicker update for you all. But don't worry, the main characters are still the same and 'Bellis Pereniss' will be written once again after I finish editting. 

It's my first attempt in using first person POV to write a story. Enjoy Jiyeon's POV. I'll try Myungsoo's one soon. (: