I want to throw up.

I woke up, my muscles so tense that they felt like solid and liquid metal at the same time. My joints don’t have enough strength to retain a single upright position. I peek through my eyelashes and to my horror, they’re blonde like they were dipped in bleach while I was sleeping. Adrenaline pushes me off my bed and my eyes and feet forget their fatigue and scramble to the nearest mirror.

I exhale loudly seeing my reflection, my eyes lock into well, the reflection of my eyes and they’re silver like they were little vacuums that ate all the moon’s rays and now my eyes are emitting a powerful silver hue it’s almost white.

I forced my eyes shut like my reflection is not worth looking at when it’s exactly the opposite. I pressed my palm to my chest directly above my heart and attempted to calm myself. I exhaled out my mouth and inhaled through my nose. Dry cold air touched my lungs and it doesn’t matter because it’s actually refreshing.  I imagined myself, not my true self the other one, the dark haired girl that’s getting punished and opened my eyes still reflective silver looked back at me. I exhaled loudly yet again using up all the air in my lungs ending my complaints with a low growl.

I shook my head first slowly and calmly turning into aggravating, migraine-inducing shaking of my head and I think I might be going insane. I glanced quickly at my bedside clock and see that I might be late if I don’t shower, get dressed and turn back to having dark eyes and hair.

I slid the opaque shower door close and open it just a few minutes after. I dressed myself and tried to dry my hair. The warm water did wonders for my aches and pains. I grabbed my books and shove them into my bag when I felt a presence behind me, dark, brooding.

I couldn’t speak or turn my head to validate what I felt. My ears can’t pick up a single sound like my whole body is stuffed with cotton, everything is muffled and my senses are failing me.

I’m falling in an endless abyss of black and numbness. It felt like that for a while, a really long while longer than I have ever been in this planet. Finally as my senses come back I felt like I’ve slept long enough for my joints to fuse permanently and the small of my back throbbing in a dull pain. A small thump was all I heard and then heavy footsteps, I don’t realize my hands are shaking until he takes them and help me up. My sense of sight last to come back.

“Princess.” He takes in the sight of me, clumsy and just picking myself off the floor. His voice clear and his skin warm. My eyes were shifty, looking around for the presence around me, Hyuk’s here and I suddenly become hyperaware.

He too looks around, calmly. In our silence he grabs my bag and guides me out the door. I took a hesitant step, then another his hand clutching my bag, the other resting on the small of my back. I look over my shoulder, eyes darting around the empty room.

Eyes! My eyes are back to ink black, I hope. But if Hyuk’s not acting like I’m a stranger then my eyes and hair must be onyx. “Hyuk.” it’s uncomfortable to speak, my senses might not be back completely. He doesn’t speak yet I found comfort in his hands, warm like newly baked bread, touching me and the dull pain eases into something I can’t pinpoint. I suddenly have butterflies in my stomach, waiting to fly away with delicate wings fluttering away in the wind.

He’s standing too close, feeling too warm like a fever but not quite. “Hold my hand.” He says, catching my cold, clammy and shaky hand with his warm one. The school’s a few steps away. He’s been holding my hand but I let go always. Transfer of heat, the lack of heat from my hands balanced by the abundance emitted from his body, it feels unsettling.

“I’m okay.” He reaches his hands again to mine, catching it into a secure grip. I don’t desire to welcome his comforting touch, this situation—people staring and whispering because of what happened does not bother me. “Just hold my hand, please.” His eyes reflect nothing but concern, he exhales and stiffen when I don’t respond.

He’s stubborn, like the dull pain on the small of my back that doesn’t go away. I see him straighten his back, like he’s feeling what I’m feeling and take a step away from me. As his hands leave my body, the shaking and pain intensifies but I forge on, walking. Walking like there’s no burden on my back like there’s no fear shaking my hands because I want to be strong, I know I’m strong.

The grimaces and ugly words don’t stop, even meals are hard to take. I’m spilling of prejudice at the seams and physical hunger gets pushed back, like the thousands of emotions I am feeling. “It’s okay.” Hyuk whispers to me, his breath burning my cheeks and hands slowly caressing my back. It matters that I don’t want his comfort but it seems like I need it.

My hand reaches for him, the hand holding me, easing my pain. I look at him feeling insensitive as he withdraws involuntarily. He’s fighting the grimace tugging on his lips as I observe his hand. “What happened?” My voice was still in the turbulent air of the cafeteria and the crowd catches on observing us closer.

He doesn’t pull his hand back nor speak but his hand, the back of it decorated with bruises at different stages of healing, blue and yellow and all types of unpleasant colors peeking beneath the broken capillaries and the fair skin.

“Tell me Hyuk, what happened?” I held his hand tighter feeling the smooth skin erasing the unsightly colors of his bruises. He sets his chopsticks down, still not speaking, for how long does he want to not talk to me? And pushes the tray away from him, leans closer to me, forgetting the intrusive glances and enclosing us both in our own little bubble. “I did it for you princess.”

My stomach churned out an ugly, disgusting cold feeling at its pit and I shivered. I’m confused, Hyuk is never cold and twisted and dark but with what he said he’s exactly that. I don’t press him further and he walks me to my room stopping by our lockers and his hands still warm against my back.

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