The same girl, in the same white room, is walking on an endless white ocean, on the tip of her toes.

She’s wearing a white one piece swimsuit.

Jungyeon is standing on the side, like many of the past nights. She’s watching the girl walk ever so slowly on the lifeless water with dazzled eyes and a beating heart.
 

She tilts her head. The girl’s jet black hair cascade down her frail, pale shoulders.

She tilts her head the other way. The girl doesn’t look at her just yet.

Jungyeon wants to move her legs, not afraid of falling into the water next to the platform she’s on, but she can’t feel them.
 

She looks down to her hands. She can move them but they’re covered in a glistening dark ink that drops into the water, contrasting greatly with her white button up sleeves.
Jungyeon looks up to the girl, who is now staring at her with a surprised expression.

“Who are you?” Jungyeon asks. A single drop of ink spreads into the water until it reaches the girl. The water turns completely abyssal.

The girl does not answer. She only walks closer to Jungyeon as her steps cleanse the water from the darkness, like the spreading of a cure.

Red lips like a heart, droopy eyes framing vibrating black eyes, black bangs; pale complexion.

“What’s your name?” Jungyeon asks again. There’s a jolt of light that gets marked to the point where it blinds her. The only thing she can see is the girl’s face, until the light becomes too strong for her eyes to handle.

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Jungyeon jolts awake in the middle of the night. She blinks the drowsiness away, sits up on her king sized bed. Her breath is running short and her bangs stick to her forehead.

I had that dream again.

She doesn’t know anything about it except that she’s been having this recurring dream for over a month now. It’s always the same thing. She sees the girl, a drop of ink takes over the water, Jungyeon can’t move and she ends up getting blinded by light.

Jungyeon doesn’t know that girl. She has never seen her before, but she remembers every feature of her face, every curve of her body, every curl of her hair and every red shade of her lips.

There are other things too, like how her hands are covered with some black, sinister looking ink that shines under the look of her eyes. Like how she feels cold until she sees the girl tiptoe on the water.

But in this dream, differently from the others, she could talk.

I guess that’s some progress, she tells herself, while she slips away from her covers.

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Jungyeon gets home with company the next night. A tall, blonde girl that goes by Momo, which she remembers her explaining it means peach in some foreign language, but Jungyeon doesn’t focus on that useless detail when all she needs to know is what to moan in the darkest hours of the night.

They met a few hours ago at Jinyoung’s party, Jungyeon’s dimples pleased her, Momo’s toned stomach pleased her; it was a mutual accord (though Jungyeon’s self promise rings in her head, let’s stop this, but she doesn’t listen).

It was so easy, much easier that declining

.

Jungyeon goes to the messy bed after a shower because she hates the sensation of sweat sticking on her skin, and by now Momo is already sleeping.

When she looks at her, she gets reminded that she couldn’t wash the sensation of regret sticking on her skin.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The same girl, in the same white room, is walking on an endless white ocean, on the tip of her toes.

Jungyeon is wearing a black suit, black all over. The collar rides high.

She raises her eyes to the girl.

She looks at her tiptoe around, then looks down to her dripping hands, then the ocean gets stained and-- the girl abruptly stops, and turns to her with tensed shoulders and furrowed eyebrows like she just caught her in her intimacy, immediately draping her thin arms around herself.

Jungyeon feels her chest burn when the girl opens .
 

“Who are you?” A voice rings inside of her head, not hers, the girl’s.

Her legs move on their own accord. Jungyeon starts walking toward her, unable to stop herself. The girl steps back, one step, with a confused look on her face.

Jungyeon tries to speak but the words die down in , tighten of panic, and feelings.

This dream is long. She’s a few steps away from the girl when they both stop moving altogether.
The dark ink on her hands slowly begins to crawl into her skin. It pains her, and the girl watches her. In the midst of the stings, she gets surprised at the flash of blonde hair in her mind.

The girl raises a hand to her own, perplexity emanating from her face. Jungyeon wants to tell her not to touch her because it will hurt her, and she doesn’t want her to be hurt.

The tip of her fingers gets closer and closer. The black ink flees from where her digits hover over. More drips into the water.

When the girl touches her, her whole chest constricts.

When the girl touches her, the latter hisses and takes her hand away.

Jungyeon immediatly looks up to her wary eyes but a flash of white light blinds her, again.

She felt it.

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