The Girl With The Iron Will

Diamond Heart

"The wounds made of words, and my heart burnt black, where is love?"

EXO, Love Shot

***

I knew I was dreaming when I woke up in the vacation home my mother owned back in China. As I sit up, rubbing my eyes as I got accustomed to the bright surroundings, blinking at the powdery white walls, before pushing off the duvet off me and getting to my feet.

My body feels heavy and tired, and I let out a yawn as I walked out of my bedroom, and down the staircase. Even as I move, it was as if I was floating down the carpeted steps, my chest constricting with nervous anticipation.

I remember my mother painting the whole place white while she was in one of her moods; those same walls surrounded me now, almost harsh in its color.

There he was, at the base of the staircase, his back to me as he spoke to my mother. There's a grey scarf wrapped around his neck, and his blonde hair was a mess of wavy curls – longer than I last saw them.

It's my blonde dream boy.

I hurried down. "Wait," I called, as he and my mother walked away from me, towards the front doors.

I was running now, not even feeling breathless as I reached for his shoulder and whipping him around.

I woke up with a start, staring at the dark ceiling above me. I was in a dimly lit room, and I blinked groggily, letting out a soft groan as I took in my surroundings.

The room was dark, save for the soft glow of the bedside lamp, and I glanced around, taking in the four walls of the hospital ward I was currently in.

And the figure on the sofa, hunched over a phone.

I fidgeted, wincing slightly as I felt the sharp pain on my arm when I tried to push myself up to a sitting position. "Ouch!" I yelped.

My mother looked up. "Sweetheart, you're awake!" she said, coming over to sit next to my bed, "How are you feeling?"

"Could be worse."

She stroked my hair. "You fainted at the hotel," she said, as she helped to prop the pillows so that I could lean back comfortably, "Caused quite the stir on the way out."

I looked down at my bandaged arm, blinking at it for a few moments before remembering how I actually got here.

The vase. Minseok. The earsplitting shatter of ceramic against the stage floor. And of course, the moment I realized I was hurt.

The metallic smell of blood was still fresh in my memory. I blinked it away. "Must've freaked out half the ladies," I joked.

"Not just that," she said, her lips pursed, "Your friend tried to help with the bleeding and got his hands all bloody."

I don't remember that part. "Minseok-sunbae?"

"The other one, the one we saw on the school rooftop," she said, "Said he used to be a boy scout or something. He helped to carry you downstairs when the ambulance arrived."

My heart sped up. I let out the breath that I had been holding and peered at her from the corner of my eyes. "What drama episode is this?"

She shrugged, oblivious. "You tell me. It was chaos."

"Did they knock me out?" I asked, looking at the bandage.

"Just local anaesthesia," she replied, "They made short work of the wound. I was surprised when they said you're good to go."