chrysalism

(n.) the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm

The loud thunder of the sky roars, disrupting her sleep. Her body sprawled across the couch shifts as she tries to put her mind at ease. Lightning flashes through the window. One second, the dark room lits up. Then it dims. No use - it's hard for her to fall back into slumber after the rumbling noise outside awakened her. She sits up, her eyes still shut. The soft blanket that covered her slides down her body. She flutters her eyes open with a knowing smile plastered on her face.

“Hey…”

His peaceful expression when he sleeps always brings her into a smile. His kindness always manages to cheer up her low spirits. The look in his eyes when he talks to her always make her wonder if he’s secretly in love with her or make her doubt her true feelings for him – is he really only a friend? A colleague?

“…Hyerim-ah?”

She hadn’t realized he’s already awake, not until his voice takes her away from her thoughts.

Composing herself, she says, “Why are you sleeping on the floor, Taekwoon?”

“I was afraid you might have nightmares again. It’s a good thing you didn’t,” he beams.

She sighs, not knowing why his concern causes her anxiousness.

“Thank- ”

The raging storm cut her off. “There’s still no el