JUNG DAESOM 
She is cold, and she never bothered to care.

The door slammed open, the door knob rammed on the white wall with a loud click on the lock as he wobbles into the house. He tried to keep his balance and coughed, red faced as he turns around, his hands struggled to close the door. A girl stood by the stairs, her silk white nightgown flowed down to her knees as she watches the man’s struggles to grasp onto the door knob. Carefully, she approached him and reached for the knob, pushing the door close with a click. The house was hushed, engulfed in darkness when his eyes caught the sight of the raven that wore a cold, harsh mask. Quietly, she turned her back against him. She was going to leave him, but the man stumbled, his voice stammered as his vision of the girl blurred.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?!” He shouted, screamed at her face as he dropped cold by the frigid ground. Her expression stayed, like the cold that sent shivers down his spine, she turned back with an expression of the glacial storm.

“Because they’re none of my concern.” She advanced towards him. Her cold fingers brushed against the red, warm mark on his cheeks. She wasn’t stupid, she knew that he was out on his usual games, and had gotten himself a beautiful red mark printed on his cheek. Her lips pursed, and she carefully slung his arm over her shoulder as she struggles to balance their bodies.

Wordlessly, she quietly led him into the cold, isolated room and dropped him onto the bed that sunk in with his weight.

“Good night…” Her voice came soft as whispers when her fingers carefully brushed his messy fringe aside. Cautiously, she traced his jaw, her expression softened slightly before she breaks off the contact and turns around.

With steady steps, she stepped out of the room and closed the door with a gentle clink.

There was the dawn, and there was her. She rose from the white covers and removed the quilt from her body. Her eyes bore to the flaring light that shone into her room as she runs her fingers through her long, black streaks. It's a Monday morning. She released a soft sigh and brought her legs to the ground, taking steady steps towards the bathroom to start her day. In the mirror, reflects a girl of an ice, cold heart. Her hair wasn't particularly messy, her skin that was pale, porcelain white glowed dimly under her black locks, and her eyes... They were dull, boring. She shook her head and washed up, getting ready for the day.

Today was just another day that was marked in her boring life, crossed out with a flat red line as she breathes.

She patted, straightening the slight crease on her black uniform and looked into the mirror. Rather than checking the beautiful mess on her hair, she turned to check if there was any sign of crease on her black uniform. Satisfied, she left her room and stopped her tracks before the opposite door. There was silence, dead silence when she curled her fingers into a loose fist and gently tapped the door. No response, but that was expected.

She sighed and reached for the door knob this time. She twisted the knob open and swung the door open, making sure to keep it as gently as possible when she took quiet steps towards the bed. There lies a man, his dark raven locks messily tangled around. His eyes were closed, but she knew that if he were to part his lids, his deep, intense gaze would be the ones that sends shivers down her spine. This man. The one whom she held responsibility on. She shook her head, knowingly dissatisfied with his tardy attitude. It is a school day, and there he was, cuddling his white pillow and his mind still trapped in his dream.

She pulled the covers, an attempt to break his dream and pull him back to reality. Under the covers, he was bare, exposed off his fawn skin that trailed down his pelvic bone. She pursed her lips, expression stayed firm as she heaves another sigh. She was used to seeing him topless, and none of these seemed to surprise her anymore, seeing that he in facts, strips in his sleep.

"Jongin." She called his name once, but he did not budge.

"Kim Jongin." She called his name twice, and a smile crept beneath the white pillow, unnoticed by the girl.

"Jung Daesom. Shut up." His voice rang stern in her ears. And she sighed.

She had completely given up on waking him up. So she turned around and left.

She entered the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking all the ingredients she needed for breakfast. She looked at the time. 7:32a.m. She nodded to herself and cracked an egg on the heated frying pan, then dropped in two slices of bread into the toaster. This will probably take off 30 minutes of her time, she estimated and transferred the egg from the frying pan to a clean plate. Cracking another egg, she turned her attention to the empty stairs and let out another sigh. 

She was going to have breakfast alone, again.

Placi