With his first successful meal, they'd gone to bed in a good mood. Throughout the night he could feel Namjoo curled up beside him and even when the sun rose, she was still there. 

Namjoo should have been first to awake, but that morning he'd woken up first. She was the first thing he saw upon opening his eyes. The way she slept so peacefully was dreamy, like she was soaking in a tub of warm water scented with flowers. Namjoo barely budged when he moved and he thought to disturb her sleep, like she always did his. 

Slightly sitting up he leaned over to closely peer at her unmoved expression and ran his fingers through her hair. They coursed through his hand softly before settling back into place. Even so, she didn't stir as he expected her to. 

"You're really going to keep sleeping?" He asked. "Hey, don't pretend with me." 

Softly patting his hand against her cheek he waited for her eyes to open and have to her scold him. He wanted to know how it was to receive her annoyance again, but she never woke. Again, he noticed how she didn't move at all; remaining stiff and rigid with her head turned to the side. 

"Namjoo?" His voice merely began to tremble; leaning in closer. Tucking her face between his hands he desperately called, "Namjoo. Wake up. Wake up." 

Now shaking her, "Namjoo! Wake up, please wake up!" 

The casket zipped across his mind and he let out a loud cry of despair. Oncoming sighs of misery rolled out through his breath and he wanted to throw his head back, shake it and deny what was happening. 

"No! Namjoo, wake up! Please wake up. You can't go. You can't!" 

His heart plunged into the deepest depths of sorrow when he pulled her up only to watch her head hang back lifelessly. Those pursed lips split apart and he wanted to hear her say his name once more, but her voice didn't come through. At once, the tears started plunging down his face uncontrollably and his chest throbbed, shaking in chaos. 

Luhan didn't want to go through it again. Not her death...not another burial. He couldn't lose her. 

Thick air, like a tornado spun in his chest before gravity suddenly seemed to pull him up by his shirt. Sitting up with eyes wide open; heart tremoring in fear, he stared at the wall ahead. A welcome was bid on him by the morning sunshine floating into their room. As the tree leaves weaved back and forth outside with the soft wind, he thought he heard happy jingles throughout the sullen room decked in darkness even through the light. 

A heavy breath forced itself out of him, his body trying to rid of the shock he'd momentarily experienced. His chest was heavy as if the pain, the torment were all there gathered up into a dark gray cloud. Blinking in order to capture the reality of the moment to assure himself he was really awake, he turned to look at Namjoo. Like in his dream, she was asleep beside him looking as peaceful as ever. 

His lips quivered as he leaned over forcing a hand out. He was afraid...very afraid. It felt like his esophagus had swelled up, refusing to take the saliva crowding in his mouth. All he heard was the loud drumming of his heart within his eardrums. Gluing his lips together he forced himself to swallow the saliva choking him up and finally placed a finger underneath her nose to check for her breathing. 

The silence continued to thicken around him, laughing, yet silently waiting for the news he would have to bear. 

Again, his chest shook when he felt warmth bounce off his hand, disappear, and come again. Clamping eyes shut he exhaled a deep sigh of relief, barely letting out a whimper in the process. 

Namjoo was alive. 

Luhan was so thankful he wanted to start crying on spot. It had been a damn dream...just a damn dream. Maintaining his composure he slowly lay down so as not to disrupt her sleep. 

He was and had been so scared. 

Burying his face into her shoulder to seek her free comfort, he wrapped his arms around her to keep her near. No one could take her, he wouldn't let them even if they tried. Namjoo had to stay with him at all times. She couldn't leave until he let her. 

Unable to restrain himself, he slightly lifted her off the bed so her back was no longer pressing into the mattress, in order to better embrace her. 

A tired moan draped her lips when she rolled onto her side and he felt her hand touch his arm, "What is it?" 

"Nothing, it's nothing. Go back to sleep." His voice was dry and course, cracking slightly.      

Opening her eyes she peered around the room, confused. Her chin tapped the roof of his head when she tried to glance at him. 

"What are you doing?" Namjoo finally sounded wide awake. 

"I just want to hug you. Lets stay like this a little while longer," keeping his eyes shut he pressed his face deeper into her shoulder. 

Her breath resounded into his ears and he fought to ward off the frightful pain still lingering in his chest. His scalp tickled when she brushed his hair with her long fingers. 

He never wanted to lose this again. 

"I love you." He told, fearing he might not be able to tell her those words again. From now on, he'd say it to her every day, every night so that she knew how important she was.    

"Me too." 

Snuggling against her, he hugged her tighter, unable to assure himself this would last forever.

"Did you have a bad dream this morning?" Namjoo questioned while the noise of water running faded to the background. 

A warm cup of tea was sitting in front of him to help calm down his nerves, but he didn't think the tea would work. Staring at Namjoo's back in order to engrave the vision into his memory was all he did while he sat at the table. He was afraid time wouldn't last for him; that there wouldn't be enough time to look at her or be with her.

And what if something happened when he wasn't around?

He didn't want to think about it. The pain still pulsating in his heart was heavy. 

"Luhan..." Namjoo called as she spun around his way. 

Her voice immediately caught his ears and he turned to look at her. She looked worried and a little blank. 

"Are you ok?" 

Pulling on a smile, he nodded, "Don't worry about me. Say, I'm going to head out for a little bit, so stay home and don't go anywhere."

"Where are you going? It's a Sunday." 

"Just," he felt his eyes roam a little, "somewhere." Then with another smile, "You can't go anywhere, you got it?" 

"Not even for a walk?" 

"No, not anywhere. Stay inside at all times," Luhan emphasized. 

He was afraid someone outside would hurt her. As of yet, home was the safest place for her. He didn't even want to see a drop of blood escape her body.                                                              
Again, looking concerned she said, "What's wrong?" 

Getting up from his chair he started toward her and gave her a peck on the forehead, "Just stay home and wait for me, ok? I won't be gone long." 

I~I~I~I~I

Something was amiss, but Namjoo couldn't describe the undercurrents to his movements. It was in the way that Luhan touched her, hugged, and kissed her that resounded some sort of desperation. He was more touchy than she remembered. The way he stared at her, too, spoke of something...almost as if he hadn't seen her for a few days.  

And what about it? Why had he touched her abdomen that morning, asking if it was still there? She had no remembrance of carrying, so what had he been mumbling about?  

Frowning, she turned the faucet off. Luhan hadn't touched the cup of tea she'd given him that morning. When they got up that morning, his face had been a pale white. Obviously, he hadn't told her anything. His recent behavior was a bit strange, even forgetting his father's death. He shouldn't have forgotten about it when the death anniversary was just a week ago. They would have held a memorial service for him...

A memorial service...

Namjoo found her memory blank. It was hard for her to recall if she'd been at the memorial service or not. She would have gone to help his mother with food preparations. All that composed her mind was a black canvas.  

This wasn't right. She knew she'd been at the service, but why couldn't she remember?

A knock at the door surprised her. Leaving behind her thoughts, she turned to open the door. The young woman from next door was standing on their doorstep with her four-year-old boy, Jinwu. On evenings when his single-mother had to work overtime, she and Luhan would take to babysitting her son. They adored him and had planned on having their own child by the end of the year.  

A child...it...

As if forgetting where she was, she stared blankly at the woman and her child. For a mere moment, she felt Luhan's hand on her tummy again.  

"I'm sorry," the woman apologized, "but I have to head out immediately and I can't leave Jinwu alone. Would you mind watching him for a couple hours or so?"  

"Yes, that's fine. Don't worry about it," Namjoo pulled on a smile and reached out for Jinwu.  

After the woman left and she'd busied Jinwu with some cartoon on TV, Namjoo found herself blankly sitting on the couch nibbling her thumb nail. She was suddenly overdriven by a sense of intuitive anxiety, like something was very wrong even though all seemed right. The feeling was overwhelming and she thought of how Luhan had been showing random acts of affection, telling her he missed her; telling her she couldn't go anywhere. 

"Auntie," Jinwu turned around from where he was sitting on the floor to look at her. "I want ice cream."  

"Ice cream?" She repeated. "Let me see if we have some. Your uncle likes sweet stuff, so we might have some lying around."  

Getting up to head toward the fridge she searched inside the freezer. Among the frozen meats and foods she sorted through she couldn't find any. 

"What do we do?" Namjoo turned around to look at the small boy. "Doesn't look like we have any ice cream."

"Then can we go get some? I really want ice cream," the little one's big eyes softened her heart and Namjoo ended up giving in. 

"Should we?"

The boy's eyes twinkled the very moment he broadly smiled and jumped to his feet.  
"Wait here, I'll go get my wallet."  

I~I~I~I~I

The large dome doors of the library snapped shut when he started down the few dozen staircase. The research had taken much longer than he'd expected, but with the address in his hand he'd be sure to get everything over with today. 

Wiccan specialist, Song Eunni, lived on the other side of town where fortune tellers marketed their business. He wanted to meet with her quick before returning home to Namjoo. The longer he was away from her, the more uneasy he felt. 

While treading toward his car, his eyes helplessly scanned the busy peoples rushing to and fro. Everyone looked harmless upon first impression, but among them could be a killer; Namjoo's murderer. Judging by the book didn't do justice to anyone. He and Namjoo always believed in kind people, but now he was beginning to become wary about anyone approaching them. 

Pulling the car door open, he got in and drove off. 

Along a cracked street district were many buildings boarding his left and right. Some were jewelry shops, quick-to-loan-money businesses, and as expected he caught sight of the fortune teller businesses ongoing with customers. The few cars parked along the side of the road told him he wasn't the only troubled person seeking counsel.  

A little globe in a window display with dark purple curtains glowed when he passed, a store belonging to a psychic. A pair of old woman stepped out of a red tinted building, its panes chipped, frantically speaking in hushed voices about an upcoming wedding date. 

His steps quickly halted when he spotted the Wiccan symbol, a five-pointed star, of protection on the window. Through it he spotted various books, candles, and other miscellaneous items Wiccans would use with their spells sorted throughout the store. It was tiny with wooden shelves nailed to the walls and a circular table to support a large book on display.  

Luhan didn't actually want to go in, but it was because he needed to. Before entering through the jade colored door, he turned to look both ways down the street. He didn't think he wanted to be seen in this place, even though no one would probably remember him.  

A bell jingled overhead and the strong smell of spices hit his nose at once. Luhan almost started coughing, but it was shocked and withheld upon hearing a clear voice.

"I've been expecting you." 

From outside, he hadn't seen anyone in the store. Searching around brought to him no one in particular either. Confused, he quickened his gaze through the room. He immediately turned toward a purple drape as substitute for a door to see someone draw it aside, stepping through. A woman with long permed hair and long nails painted in gray appeared. She looked like anyone he'd see walking among the street in high casual wear and simple flops.  

"I had a vision you'd be visiting today," the woman spoke without turning to him as she walked behind the counter. "So what can I do for you?"  

Unsure where to start, Luhan stepped closer to the dark brown counter textured with carvings. Taking the spell out of his pocket he slid it over the counter toward her.  

"When I found it yesterday, it looked like the paper's disappearing," Luhan started. "It doesn’t make sense."  

The woman tilted her head for a better observance and for a few seconds, he couldn't see any display of emotion on her face. He was nervous, as if waiting for test results.  

"It's a spell to bring back a love," she stated the obvious. "Who did you bring back? Ex-girlfriend?"  

Luhan hesitated to answer. It felt like he'd receive a scolding from a parent, but she was no one related to him.  

"My wife," he confessed with eyes lowered.  

She raised a brow at the unexpected answer and replied, "Your wife..."  

His heart was pounding a little harder now, as if his intuition knew he'd done something that couldn't be fixed, something...very bad.      

"She...was murdered."

A strong wave of silence passed over them; that being his slap to the face. 

"You've tilted the balance of nature; good and evil; live and death," the woman explained. "When someone dies, they're forever dead. What prohibits the living from touching the dead, is time. After leaving this world, they eternally belong to another dimension, but you've violated the essence of time." 

"So...what do I do?"  

She shook her head, "You can't do anything." 

"But my wife...she can stay with me...right?" He was begging for the answers to be on his side. 

Song Eunni seemed to stare him down, "She is alive, but dead." 

"What do you mean?"

"She may in fact be who she was in your memories," she explained, "but her life will never be the same, because there is a void between when she was alive and when she was dead. You're doing more harm to her and everyone around you. In the end, all the losses you experience are going to be of your own doing. There are consequences with every spell used for personal gain. This is one of the worst I've seen throughout my whole career.

"You're not supposed to wake the dead. There's an axis on which life and death sit on; parallel to that, good and evil. Evil has taken her life and she's settled in death, but you've woken her spirit back up. Now there's a tilt, because she's living when isn't supposed to be. In order to restore the balance, you have no choice, but to lose what is important to you as your wife is."

Luhan's eyes widened.  

"This here," she went on without waiting for him to re-gather his senses, "is time's warning. Once the spell disappears, it's over. Everyone in your life will be dead at the cost of your wife's existence." 

"It can't be," Luhan shook his head in utter denial. "There must be something I can do." 

When he thought about waking up to his dad's missing existence, he couldn't go through losing anyone else. Not his mother...not anyone...

"I'm afraid not," she sounded sympathetic. "It will have to be one or the other. But, there is still one chance." 

"What is it?" 

"If your wife's murderer is still on the loose," she said. 

Luhan's worst nightmare started to shake him mentally. Namjoo's murderer...her death.  

"If they run into each other, he's going to kill her again. Everything will be restored once your wife returns to the other side." 

Upon hearing this he shook his head furiously, "I'm not letting her go. She isn't going anywhere." 

Song Eunni at least tried to smile apologetically, "Then your visit here is useless. The only solution to this is your wife needs to die again."

Suddenly infuriated by her, Luhan snatched the piece of paper off the counter and turned to walk out. The hell with it! He would never give Namjoo up. The pain and the misery that had weighed his world down, he would never go through it again.  

No one and nothing would take his beloved again; not without his permission.  

"But hear me out," she made him stop in his tracks, "time waits for no one. The dead is still the dead and the living still has to go on." 

Luhan drove back to the apartment enraged, but knew that the moment he walked through the door he'd forget all he'd heard.

"I'm home," he called out, stepping into the house.  

A silence answered him. Among the empty apartment he didn’t see a single movement belonging to his wife. Dropping the movie he'd rented along with the popcorn he'd purchased he raced throughout his apartment, searching even through the curtains as if she'd be hiding.  

"Namjoo!"