Everything is on fire.

The smoke smothers her lungs and she gasps for fresh air, her vision marred with amber that would otherwise look beautiful against the hazy background. If only it isn't up the world around her, if only it isn't climbing up her skin - if only the heat around is something that provides her warmth and protection, rather than something that burns every fibre in her body. She wants to feel safe right where she is, but now it's where her terror survives. If she gets to live through this, will this be what she'll have to remember for as long as she's breathing?

I don't want to live anymore.

I don't want to live to remember all of this.

She doesn't want to feel pain as the flames get higher, she doesn't want to open her eyes to capture the falling world around her. She wants to go away as quickly as possible, not by suffering as her supply of oxygen is cut short, as her body becomes the fuel to the fire that's ravaging everything she loves.

With her limited vision through her half-closed eyes, the view gets fainter, either due to the smoke that's getting thicker or the state of her brain that has slowed down its gears. She can't move a muscle from fear, or it may be her giving in to her fate that's locking her in place. The tears that flow from her eyes seem to evaporate quickly from the intense heat while she calls out their names, which get swallowed in that feels like it will collapse any time soon.

Am I really dead, for is that an angel that's coming towards me?

The angel calls out her name, but her lips are too dry; they feel like they will crack the moment she opens . She gets picked up, hugged close and instead of ascending towards the sky, she is brought down, away from the raging fire and the collapsing structure. It feels like she's being stripped away from everything that she has known as the angel brings her far, far away. As she's held close to the angel's chest, she searches for comfort, she searches for the pair of eyes that would tell her that everything will be alright. She is put down, the words of her being safe wrap around her before the angel cries, holding on to her hand.

Why is the angel crying when it's supposed to be me?

What if I didn't want to be saved?

"Byul-ie?" a tiny voice fills her ears, which floods her senses and her immediate response as she opens her eyes is to cry, the nightmare - the memory that had turned into a monster that terrorizes her every now and then - too much for her to bear. As she sobs she feels two small hands cupping her cheeks and helping to wipe away the tears so she grabs them gently.

"Byul-ie, did I make you cry?" the voice asks again, but as she shakes her head to refute it, she cries harder. "I'm sorry if I made you cry, please don't cry. I'm sorry."

"No, no it's not you Hwayoung. I just had a bad dream, that's all. It's not your fault I'm crying." She sits up straight before she cups the little kid's face, the former's face decorated with her dried-up tears. "You're a little angel that won't hurt anyone." As she looks into the child's eyes, she sees the eyes of the angel that had saved her, that had brought back the life she thought she had given away.

Those pair of eyes that I would never forget.

"Are you feeling alright?" a man's voice comes from the direction of the door, and she looks up to see Seonghwa at the door, his hands holding a basin filled with water and a towel. He looks relieved to see that she has finally woken up, and he puts down the basin on the bedside table. "Hwayoung didn't want to leave your side until you woke up, even when Yunho begged her to go to sleep. She slept beside you and held your hand every time you stirred." He places a hand on Hwayoung's head, and she sinks back into his embrace.

Seonghwa picks her up and says, "You promised that you would go to sleep properly once Byul wakes up, so will you keep your promise? You have to be ready for kindergarten."

She nods with a tired smile, putting our her pinky finger. She links it with Seonghwa's and exclaims, "Of course, uncle! Hwayoung is not someone who breaks promises. See you tomorrow, ah, no it's already tomorrow." She giggles, "Bye Byul-ie, please don't get hurt again." She tiptoes and pecks her on the cheek before running off, leaving Seonghwa and her in the room.

She realizes that she's in Seonghwa's room, and even from a glance she can feel his personality radiating in every corner of the space.

Her heart does a little flip when she sees a framed picture of him and Akira on his desk as she's reminded of their meeting at the tattoo parlor. The single picture seems to depict their relationship at best; where Akira had put on her best annoyed face, while Seonghwa was beaming, but even with their contrasting expressions, their arms were wrapped around each other. At another corner of his room, it seems that he has his own personal cleaning supplies, all arranged neatly and look like they're used at least twice a day.

"I'm sorry," is the first thing she says, but she doesn't know the exact reason why she's apologizing. Somehow she feels the need to, that she feels like she's being a burden to them; like she always has been to others.

"Ms. Han, there's no need for you to apologize," he tuts, dipping the cloth in water. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I just feel useless. The only things I seem to know how to do are only crying and fainting," she manages a slight chuckle. "It's no wonder that I'm not being accepted anywhere; I simply don'