I love an extraordinary girl, gifted with many strengths and powers.

Kyulkyung has a confidence that I lack.

She’s so shameless about expressing her feelings or doing something embarrassing to make others laugh.

In that way she is the complete opposite of me; I tend to shy away from anything that could damage the image of a respectable leader that I worked hard to maintain.

Onstage, Kyulkyung is nothing less than powerful. She had a stage presence that couldn’t be taught. She executes every move with an alluring type of strength, demonstrating her hours of hard work and practice spent to perfect her motions and the sheer talent she possesses.

She has the power to fill everyone around her with joy. With a simple smile Kyulkyung lights up the room, her cheerfulness and warmth attracting fans to her like moths to light.

For so long I had been the one to give her joy as well. We were happy once, happy and in love. (I’m sad to say that I left her and that my leaving destroyed that happiness.)

It is her strength and power that causes me to marvel at how small she can look.

As she sleeps, she curls tightly into a little ball, making her look impossibly smaller. Here in our bed sheets, she is still just a young girl, not an idol but a mere human being. So fragile.

She shifts yet again - her tenth time tonight - as if struggling to become comfortable. Through the near-silence, I can hear her murmur lowly in her sleep, desperate words that sound almost like a plea.

“Don’t go,” I can hear her whimper, or maybe her words are just my imagination, just what I want to hear.

Her constant tossing and turning causes the blanket we once shared to almost fall off of the bed, only caught by her outstretched leg. Subconsciously, she pulls its fabric up, her arms stopping just above her navel.

Still cold, she reaches out for my warmth. Her hand stretches out to the side of the bed which was once mine, her eyebrows raise in surprise when she discovers I am no longer there. In her sleep, her lips purse at her discovery and her movement makes me frown to myself.

The moon peers through the curtains of our window, casting ghostly shadows around the mess of a room. I had always been slightly messy, going straight to bed after a schedule, not caring much about my surroundings. It seemed that after I left, she too didn’t care much about keeping tidy. We didn’t spend much time there anyway; we were too busy to care about clutter.

The smell of my flowery perfume lingers.

Earlier, I saw her spray it into the air then sob into my pillow. I hate causing her this much anguish, but I couldn’t change our situation, couldn’t return back into her arms.

I miss you too, I want to say, but don’t.

The night has a haunting chill rippling through it, causing the fine hairs on my arms to rise, the unforgiving cold present in every cluttered corner of the room. The window is covered in precipitation, little droplets running down every once in a while.

I see her shivering shoulder peering out from the blanket, her bare skin exposed to the winter cold.
My fingertips graze her expanse of pale skin, her overwhelming warmth an abrupt change from the cold I was growing used to.

I tug the worn fabric of our blanket above her slender shoulders to shelter her from the relentless cold.

A delicate groan slips out of her and a smile returns to her pretty lips.

Yearning for the feel of her warmth, I risk waking her up to run my fingers through her dark hair. She shifts closer, as if yearning for me too. I smile a small and somber smile as my thumb brushes away the tear that escaped out of her tightly-closed eyes.

My touch must have been too rough; she pulls away from it, pulls away from me.

Her eyes flicker open - her lashes heavy with unshed tears that she blinks away - and I in a breath, my heart pounding like a thudding drum. She always had been a light sleeper.

Those familiar brown eyes, more deep and beautiful than any other sight, cause my heart to swell in my chest, my body’s natural reaction to her sheer beauty.

I freeze where I stand, breath catching in my dry throat, not realising I’m gnawing on my bottom lip until a metallic taste reaches my tongue. I can do nothing but stare.

Kyulkyung jerks upright.

“Nayoung unnie?”

With my name Kyulkyung breaks the silence that envelops us, at the same time breaking my heart.

Kyulkyung’s eyes frantically flit across the room, searching for me. There’s a fear flickering within them; I hate that I caused it. I used to be the one to take away her fear, the one that protected her, but now I am the culprit.

Her breaths come in rapid bursts, her chest moving up and down in time with the air that enters her lungs. The area around turns white as her puffs of breath warm the winter air.

I force myself to relax as her eyes pierce straight through me, just as I knew they would.

I have to remember that people, even those as extraordinary as her, cannot - and will never - see ghosts.

Outside, the wind is howling loudly as if yelling at me to go. It rips off the remaining leaves on trees - stubborn ones that did not fall as they should have in autumn. Unfortunately, I know that I too will be torn away soon, Kyulkyung being the lone branch that keeps me tethered.

I can already feel something telling me to leave, pulling me away from my love.

“Goodbye,” I say, but she never hears.