Blue.

Was what the sky should have looked like. Blue, that is. Or dark blue. Or any shade of blue. Yet that night, the stars littered the sky ever much more than before– twinkling, painting an illusion of a white night. Stars have lived for thousands and thousands of years, maybe even reaching millions in age. And they are only balls of gas. Albeit, this does not stop some from thinking that these twinkling dots in the sky are the souls of their passed loved ones– as per the "Stars are Souls" trope.

And that includes Hwang Eunbi.

Even if she has lived for hundreds and hundreds of years, with hundreds and hundreds of years of experience and wisdom, she chose to believe it. That the stars carried souls. That although astrology and reality have proven otherwise, those damn twinkling spots carried souls. Because reality– Plato's Cosmology has always been better. Or as claimed by someone.

And perhaps it was just her fantasy, but she swore that one, one of those bright dots above belonged to the soul of the only person who made her feel.

"Damn you," Her hoarse voice whispers, bringing the bottle of soju to her lips again as her eyes remain plastered to the starry sky. Her (mind you, there is one ) remains still on the hard, wooden bench along the Han River, her knees pressed up against her chest. Her body shivers as a cold breeze passes by.

She could care less though. Could care less about the stinging alcohol flowing down , about the temperatures of the cool night dipping lower than it usually does. Because she would still be alive even if a truck hits her at full speed (which by the way, tried and tested– not recommended). She swears she could still feel the pain from the impact to this day. Yes, she can and will feel pain, even if her heart refuses to stop beating.

Her eyes squint at the stars, matching the gazes of them one more time. For even if the distance between her and the stars could never be possibly measured, there was– without a doubt, a strong connection.

Eunbi chuckles harshly, slamming the empty glass bottle onto the concrete ground. The bottle shatters and cracks into glass shards, resembling her heart when she left– broken, vulnerable, exposed. There she was again, thinking about her. A few hot tears drip down her cheeks. Her blue heart, a wilted scent. It felt like a rose losing her thorns. Helpless, powerless.

"Damn you, Jung Eunbi," She sniffles, wiping at her cheeks aggressively with the back of her hands. And though she calls out her name, there was no response. Of course, there isn't, stupid, she thinks as her feet meet the ground.

"Damn you, Jung Eunbi!" She screams—her lone scream echoes across the vast river. More tears pour out. Her hoarse throat throbbing painfully. But it was nothing compared to how she feels. She could endure this much, and so much more– only if it was for her.

Jung Eunbi– the blue in her heart, the blue who fills her with longing. Jung Eunbi. The name alone pains her. Pains her so much it was as if her heart was being torn to pieces mercilessly.

She falls back onto the bench, bringing her knees up to her chest once more. Her head drops in between her knees as she sobs pitifully. It wasn't her being intoxicated that made her this emotional, this sensitive. But it was her being intoxicated so so much that brought these pent-up emotions out.

How long has she repeated this same routine? Drinking and drinking and drinking until she passes out, regretting it when she wakes up. But learning nothing from her empty regrets and doing the same later at night. Again and again and again. What day of the week was it? What year even was it? Because she couldn't be bothered. Her time on earth was pretty much endless, yet her days were pretty much the same after she had lost her. To those stupid stars.

When Hwang Eunbi first found out she was immortal, was when she was still around. For even after a decade together, she still showed the same appearance as she had when they first met, looking as fresh as any young adult does. She was twenty-two (which was when she had still bothered to count her age) when she first met Jung Eunbi– or Eunha, as she had liked to call her.

She remembers that day clearly. Another chuckle leaves her lips. It's a wonder how alcohol can make her so sentimental. But she gives in to her hazy state of mind, allowing her to remember.

"A woman shouldn't be eating alone out here, at this time."

Eunbi paused, her cheeks filled with the instant noodles she had practically inhaled in under a minute. A blanket was draped around her shoulders before the figure behind the sweet melodious voice plopped herself onto the space on the bench, alongside the Han River. Eunbi stared at the woman, brows furrowing– confused at the unknown woman's antics. 

"I'll eat with you, if that's okay with you," She asked Eunbi, who slowly chewed the noodles in and wordlessly shrugged.

Only then did she realise the other woman had a plastic bag, with the logo of a convenience store printed on it. She watched as the woman pulled out a sandwich, unwrapping it and taking a bite out of it. A small sigh escaped her pink lips, her twinkling eyes focused on the calm river before them. 

There was silence between them, though Eunbi did not feel uncomfortable. In fact, she was quite comforted by the woman's presence. She took this time to observe her. 

The woman sported a black bob hairstyle, a simple graphic tee and probably the comfiest sweatpants she had ever seen. A pair of rounded glasses sat on