Eyes.

She dreamed of those same dark eyes. 

They drew her in, making her sink deeper and deeper into the dark brown.

She couldn't escape.

Every second took her deeper, every twitch strengthening the eyes' grip on her.

She was trapped.

She didn't want to escape and let herself fall freely.

Wheein woke up with a feeling of safety and content flooding her. All from the chocolate-colored eyes, she kept dreaming about. She yawned and stretched her arms rolling from side to side, almost falling from the small bed in her studio. She had, once again, fallen asleep too late to return home.

She carelessly swiped at her face, trying to push the blue strands of hair tickling her nose away. It took a few tries but she managed to free her nose and open her eyes, her sight still blurred from sleep. Her eyes focused on the fresh painting lying in the middle of the room.

The eyes.

They felt so incredibly familiar.

She knew she had seen them before.

The question was where?

And more importantly; on who?

Wheein pushed herself off the bed and stretched again for good measure. A few satisfying pops later she grumpily dragged herself to the spare shirt hanging on the back of one of the two chairs.

Her view automatically flew over to the painting when she pulled the shirt over her head. The painting was a mess. You couldn’t decipher anything clearly, of paint more or less randomly splattered across the canvas. But they felt the same as in her dream. And that’s all that mattered to her.

The annoying alarm broke her out of her thoughts. Her phone was vibrating in sync with the alarm, dangerously close to the small table’s edge. Wheein immediately sprinted to her phone trying to catch it before it hit the ground.

Keyword try.

The spider-like web spread over her display, an intricate pattern of small fissures in the glass.

Wheein’s head fell forward.

Whatever.

That phone had gone through so much with her, it would survive a few more cracks and dents. She unlocked the phone and immediately saw the two missed calls.

.

Wheein hit the ‘Call Back’ button and started running around the small studio, trying to find and collect everything she would need for the day.

“Miss Jung Wheein!”, the deep voice on the other end scolded, “Did you sleep through your first three alarms again?”

“I would never Byul,” she grinned when she finally found the second sock, “You don’t know me at all!”

Byul’s smile was evident through the sigh.

“Just move your cute to the cafe. I have to tell you all about this new artist I’m choreographing for. Even your peculiar taste would like her music.”

“Excuse me just because I don’t like the major screaming that is going on these days does not mean my taste is weird,” Wheein pouted.

She couldn’t find her damn keys.

“The keys are in your left pocket.”

“Stalker,” she stuck out her tongue at the phone and ended the call.

Byul had been right, her keys jiggling in the left pocked of her trusty blazer.

With one last look at the mysterious eyes, she left the small studio, heading towards the cafe Byul was sometimes working at. She’d always claim she simply liked the atmosphere but Wheein knew it was mostly because of the Boxer who’d frequent the place. Byul was whipped.

The cold air hit her face like a truck. Perhaps she should've brought a scarf. And maybe a simple shirt and blazer were not close to enough fabric to keep her warm.

Wheein shrugged and kept on walking. Winter was coming. The world felt fresher, cleansed even. Trees were slowly losing their last leaves in an ever spinning dance. Left and right she saw people walking huddled together, enjoying the morning sun browsing through the unique shops littering the street.

Soon enough she saw the teal sign swinging in the light breeze. As much as she loved teasing Byul for her reasons for working at the cafe, she loved the place. 

It was comfortable.

Not that many people frequented it simply because it's focus wasn't on quick mass-delivery but hand-crafted specialties adjusted to the customer's wishes. She'd always be able to quietly listen to her favorite artists whilst silently sipping on her tea or hot chocolate, watching the outside world turn without her.

"Wheepup!" The purple-haired barista enthusiastically greeted her, turning the few pairs of eyes in the cafe, "Is it a chocolate or tea day?"

"Tea. Black," Wheein grimaced, "I need caffeine. A lot."

"Your secret lady keep you awake again?"

Byul moved around behind the counter with the swiftness and elegance only a dancer could achieve. Wheein could've sworn she simply teleported herself from time to time.

"I keep dreaming of her eyes, Byul. They're all I can think about. All my paintings are just her eyes. It's driving me insane."

Byul nodded with sympathy.

"Are you any closer to remembering who she is?"

"All I know is that I met her before. Her gaze always feels so warm and familiar. It's hard to describe."

"I'm sure you'll find her soon. Just sit down in the middle of the street and stare down everybody you see until you see her beautiful dark eyes," Byul laughed when Wheein hit her shoulder.

"Shut up."

Byul kept on laughing and added the finishing touches to the tea, softly placing a blue-colored flower on top of the liquid.

"There you go, a beautiful flower for a beautiful lady," Byul's smile disappeared in the middle of the sentence. 

Wheein couldn't contain her chuckle and smirked at Byul in revenge when she saw the reason the purple-haired girl froze.

"Have fun, Moonstar," she whispered and left to sit down in her usual corner.

She saw Byul turn red as she spoke to the blonde customer. Shaking her head Wheein raised the steaming cup of tea to her lips and took the first sip. The black tea's slightly bitter taste contrasted with the sweetness of whatever additional herbs and fruits Byul had mixed into the tea. She exhaled, softly smiling. 

The tea was as good as always.

Purple strands of hair appeared in front of her when Byul placed a plate with scrambled eggs and some greenery in front of her.

"Knowing you you probably haven't eaten in a day," Wheein didn't miss the scolding gaze, "Enjoy your food, kid. And listen to Hwasa. That's the new artist's name. I'm sure you'll like her music."

"Thank you," she smiled widely at Byul, her eyes disappearing and her dimple showing stronger than usual.

Byul shook her head and patted Wheein's head.

"Take care of yourself, kid," Byul scratched her head a few more times and turned to leave, throwing shy glances towards the blonde who had captured her heart.

"I'll try to," Wheein unconsciously rubbed the butterfly close to her wrist, "I will be okay."

She searched for Hwasa on her music app and let the soft tune flow through her. Raising the cup of tea back to her lips she closed her eyes and let herself be transported to another world. She didn't pay much attention to the lyrics, simply letting herself feel the music. 

The soft bell ringing from the cafe's door brought her back to the real world.

"Blue Hair," the artist's voice calming and husky in her ears, "Sparkling like a painted ocean."

Blue hair?

Wheein opened her eyes, meeting the dark ones she knew so well from her dreams across the room.