I couldn't believe my eyes. My beautiful nightmare, sitting right in front of me, her brown eyes boring into mine. After all these years, I got the chance to look at her. Really look at her. See how much time has changed her. See whether her eyes looked more tired than I remembered. I could tell almost instantly which features were now sharper, that she's grown older. I could observe everything now from the one simple look we've exchanged. And this time I was sure it was longer than just mere seconds. That our eyes have been connected for longer, as the air grew distinctly thicker.
History repeated itself over again with the way our eyes focused on each other and everything else seemed to cease to exist. However, given our situation, I couldn't speak for the beautiful dark-haired woman sitting on the leather couch in front of me, her body visibly tensing. No, I could no longer even assume what she might be feeling. Because this time around, I knew her nowhere near enough to deliver a good judgment. To tell what kind of collection of feelings flitted through her eyes.
But no matter what happened between us, one thing I knew for certain; she was still the person to complete me. My second half, that I would spend the rest of my life searching for. Nothing could change that, even hurt that split us apart once again. So though I no longer knew her, nor the person she hid beneath the cold exterior, I could still see something.
Unlike the first time we met, she seemed to be surprised. She didn't see this coming; she didn't expect it, and it was obvious. Though I knew she was trying hard to conceal, she felt anything at all. This time, she wasn't prepared to see my face as she must've thought she was alone in Chanyeol's office. So this time around, I no longer saw indifference. The hurtful ignorance, as if I was no one to her. But then again, that's probably how she perceived me now. How could she not?
No, this time I could clearly see lightnings flashing behind her dark eyes, lighting up the deep forests within for just a second. But there wasn't just one silver rip through the mesmerizing browns. There were millions crashing against one another, clashing as if going to war. Each one trying to outshine the last in its size and terrifying bolts, as it tore through.
There were dark clouds in those eyes. Full, dark grey - almost black, clouds shielding them away. They were thick and had it not been for the stormy weather, I wouldn't be able to see past them at all. But each time the lightning struck, her emotions flashed and I could see them more clearly. Although she tried to hide it, there was panic, and fear, perhaps even hatred, and so many more striking against one another. They were all battling hard with determination, however, there was no winner among them. There was only confusion and chaos, no one gave up and no one fell down to their knees in defeat.
It was captivating me in more ways than one. It was oddly beautiful how so much could go behind a pair of irises. How by one glance alone you could see everything they saw, they felt, and they were dealing with. Like you were looking straight into their head through a glass. Like there was a direct pathway to their soul.
That made me remember her words, the way she would talk about the way my eyes shone when they met hers. She was right then, and I understood fully now - eyes were the windows to one's soul. Even so, it saddened me. Because the windows to hers weren't grand, dust-free, and so clean that you couldn't tell what was just in your reach and what was shielded away.
No, her windows were smashed, and only sharp shards of glass were stuck to the wooden sashes - from which the colorful paint seemed to peel off, leaving shabby rain water-soaked wood. And though you could try to pick up the pieces, you could never put them back together because though the glass broke, as soon as it fell to the ground, shards turned into tiny fragments.
So though I whispered her name inadvertently, a small gasp following, I couldn't tear my eyes away. And neither could she. Not for a few more beats, at least. At first, I thought that was a good sign. That maybe she wouldn't march out or come over to slap me. I surely deserved the latter of the two. But she didn't. She remained seated, glued to the spot as if the soft cushions held her in place, drowning her in them like quicksand.
I attempted to smile, to show her I was happy to see her, but before I got the chance to, I found out my previous hypothesis has been mistaken. Because as soon as I tried to turn the corners of my lips upward, she stood up, and just like the first time we've seen each other, she headed for the door without sparing me a second glance. And I wasn't sure what to do. Whether I should call her name again, louder this time, hoping she would turn around and look at me, or whether I should stay silent, and let her go. I clearly perfected the other option the night I took a flight back to Korea. But this time around, I hesitated.
However, she remained in her spot. After her name escaped past my lips like a prayer so fragile as if it were glass, she no longer fought. Her battle came to an inevitable end. It's like all those lightings, crashing without a pause, suddenly stopped. Out of nowhere, they ceased to exist in her eyes. The dark clouds shielding her vision got blown away by the wind, and all trace of the previous storm was gone. Her eyes were clear, however, there was no sunlight peeking through. There was just a grey sky, looking dull, like the one you would see in an end of the world movie. It was like there was nothing at all.
And suddenly, I saw disgust and disdain, as her eyes focused on mine. However, unlike mine, hers weren't searching. They were just observing for a short time before she fully realized what was happening. And in that short while, she came to the conclusion; she hated what she saw. That she despised the person standing in front of her and the way her eyes flickered in the light. She loathed the hair that remained blonde, reminding her of all the times she waved her fingers through it. She hated the way my lips parted in a gasp when I gaped at her as if she was the image of God himself. In that brief moment, I was sure what I saw, but then, it was gone. Just as fast as it came by. And yet, I knew what I saw before she turned back to indifference as if I was a mere peasant who she didn't want to waste her time on.
Like I was no one.
So when she started walking away, I reached for her. I stood in my spot, but I extended my arms as if to grasp her wrist that was already out of my reach. In a sense, it always has been. Close, but never close enough. Right there, but like a fog, my hand fell through. And this time was no different.
Her back already turned to me, my hand searching for hers as my skin ached to feel her warmth again. But she was too far, and so I balled my hand to a fist and averted my eyes, tears already threatening to fall, with pain in my heart, as I let my hand fall limply to my side.
There was no point in chasing her. I would only bring her more pain by trying, and I've already inflicted enough.
However, I would lie if I were to say there was nothing I wished more than to find the courage and run after her as she walked out of that double door, slowly putting more distance between us. One would think I would be used to it. I was the one who put it there, in the first place. But just like the first time, seeing her back when her figure retreated, was the most painful sight my eyes have witnessed. She walked away from me, leaving me behind just how I've done to her. And yet, I had the audacity to hurt. After the things I've put her through, I had it in me to run my hands through my hair and suppress the urge to scream in agony.
And though I knew I should let her go, I was still having a million thoughts on what to do. Was I supposed to run after her after all? Was I supposed to stay and do nothing at all? Not fight for her? But I've given up that fight a long time ago. There was no longer a thing to fight for, let alone a battlefield to stand on.
Yet, I wanted to. I was scared out of my mind, fear of rejection, and the look in her eyes once I addressed her again clouding my mind. And yet, my left foot stepped forward, followed by my right.
The motion was slow at first, but the farther away she got, the faster it became. What started out as small steps turned into strides. Those turned into rushed walking as I pushed through the glass door with force. And then, I began losing her in the sea of faces and bodies that tried their hardest not to collide with the CEO's wife.
Murmurs, grumblings, quiet curses, barking of orders, and shouting of questions resounded all around me, as people brushed past me. I was standing in the middle of the meeting of all paths, blocking the way to the chaos happening outside the CEO's office, desperately trying to see past what felt like hundreds of heads, trying to see one in particular. Trying to catch sight of raven black hair.
I couldn't let her walk away again. Not this time. It wasn't right. And though I was supposed to let her go, God knew, I was not good at that. Not when she was fully awake, looking right at me with those doe eyes. Not when she was there, breathing the same air, her chest heaving as she refused to look away.
Call me selfish, but I couldn't let her go. Not now that I found her again.
And so, after what I knew to be seconds, but sure felt like minutes, I spotted her high ponytail swaying from side to side as she walked towards the elevators. There was no time for walking, no matter how fast, and I was ready to bolt, to run after her like a protagonist of a tv drama. However, I couldn't. There were too many people surrounding me and I wore heels. There was no way I could run, howbeit there was no way I would try my hardest to.
So as rude as it was, without warning, I pushed through the employees walking left and right, ignoring their "Hey watch it!" replaced by stuttered out, "I-I'm sorry, I-" when they noticed who I was. Just like always, I drowned out all sound as it became nothing more than mere white noise, rustling in the background like the black and white grains, in old television. Because just like all the times before, it was just me and her, even in the crowded hall.
I watched her closely, barely even blinking. I refused to lose sight of her for even just a second, as she rushed towards the elevators at the end of the hall. Luck seemed to be on my side, however, as just before she reached them, the metal double door shut close and the elevator began descending no matter how many times she furiously pressed the call button. It wouldn't be back so soon.
It baffled me though, that despite not catching it, not once has she looked back. Not only did it baffle me, but it also hurt because it felt like it was something more. Like I was no one, just a part of her past that wasn't worth even looking back at. Like she gave up the possibility I could tail after her because, after all, I've given up on her before. On us. Like she didn't even consider I could trail after her because she wasn't worth it. Because I didn't want to try anymore.
And yet, although she acted like I didn't affect her whatsoever, she seemed panicked. Like she wanted nothing more but to get out, to escape, and get as far away from me as possible. To put as much distance between us as she could. And so, when she realized the elevator wouldn't be coming back, she threw her hands up into the air exasperatedly and made a turn for the stairwell. She didn't seem to want to waste a single second knowing I was near.
I was still quite far behind though, as now that I actually needed to move fast, everyone seemed to be so damn busy suddenly. And so when I reached the elevators and my path became clearer, I picked up speed, jogging towards the grey door, hoping I wouldn't sprain my ankle. I didn't even try to appear like I was okay and people must've noticed, as I noted - barely but still, a few concerned looks thrown in my direction, as I slammed myself against the door, throwing it open.
Lisa must've been further down already and I could no longer see her, however, I heard her footsteps as she hurriedly made her way down the stairs. There was no hesitancy in my actions, as I leaned down to take my heels off and take them in my hands before I leaped for the first step.
Never did I go down the stairs so fast in my life and I felt myself losing my footing several times, however, the image of the Thai woman kept me from slowing down. I would not slow down this time, I wouldn't stand in my spot like a coward, hoping she would turn around and smile. Because I knew she wouldn't.
This time, I was the one who had to take a step forward. Because unlike Jennie, she didn't have anyone who would bug her to talk to me. She didn't have anyone who believed that I might have had motives. No, she gave up on that. And of course, I couldn't hold it against her. So this time, despite not knowing what her reaction would be, I had to make the effort.
Suddenly, I heard a door opening, and I wasn't sure if it was two floors down, or one, and I've almost caught up to her. However, I needed to make a decision, and I needed to think fast. And so, hoping I was right, I bet on my instinct and all those hours I've spent on a thread mill when I was bored and alone and headed for the first door presented in front of me.
Of course, though I might have started catching up to her, I couldn't see her at first. It was a big building with lots of employees, so seeing one in particular, no matter how strong the connection to the person was, would be difficult.
I looked around, not really paying attention to my surrounding, rather on the lookout for Lisa. Not that there was much to look at anyway, since this floor looked almost identical to the top one. The only actual difference was more desks, albeit more people, and despite never having a problem seeing the girl in a crowd, I was having my doubts.
So after looking for her, for a bit longer than at the crossroad a few floors up, I caught sight of her again. She was walking towards the offices at the end of the long hall, these having regular walls compared to the glass ones, offices of the editorial team had. No, these looked fairly regular - white walls, light wooden doors with silver doorknobs, that kind of thing. And from where I was standing, Lisa was heading straight for those.
And again, without a second thought or as much as a plan in mind, I followed her. The only difference in pushing through people who just refused to make way for you was that these people weren't aware of who I was. So this time instead of stuttered out apologies, I was only met with curses and grumbles of disapproval, one less friendly than the other.
Just like on the top floor though, I tried to mutter out a few apologies, but I was sure they got lost in the loud noise in the office and seeing as I was busy, I didn't have time to stop and apologize to everyone one by one. No, I only had my eyes set on the goal of reaching Lisa, who was now nearing an office that I assumed to be hers.
Pushing through another dozen unfriendly employees, I felt swallowed out by the crowd at the end of the hall, just outside the offices where no one stood. All the commotion was happening behind me while I stood in front of a row of doors, each looking the same.
I didn't know which one Lisa entered, seeing as I was compelled to avert my attention from her this time, as I walked past an especially unfriendly crowd who seemed adamant on giving me a piece of their mind, and then offended after I brushed off their hands, not giving them the time of my day. I hated being rude, however; I had my priorities straight.
Looking at the door, I knew that despite not seeing which door she took, it wouldn't be hard to find out as next to them were metal plates with names engraved in them.
There was no need for me to rush anymore, so I bent down and let my heels touch the floor again, putting them on, not wanting to visit Lisa barefoot. I suddenly felt dread as I took an office by office, letting my finger graze the metal plates as I read the names quietly. I didn't even know what I would say since the decision to follow her was more of a spur-of-the-moment decision. But I wasn't backing out. I needed to see her, talk to her. I needed Lisa to look at me again, even if her eyes were filled with hatred.
"Lalisa Manoban," I breathed as my fingers traced the letter engraved on the silver plate.
I watched my fingers wrap around the silver doorknob, ready to twist and enter the office, but before I could, I halted. She was right there. Only the wooden door standing in between us. And it was as if only now that it dawned on me and I felt the courage and adrenaline slowly slipping away.
No longer was I ready to barge in and tell her...whatever it was I planned on telling her. It was as if I acted on pure instinct when I saw her slipping away again, and subconsciously my mind has been overwritten. Now, knowing what pain it brought having to part ways with the one you loved, it apparently didn't want to let me go through that again. So before I even got the chance to comprehend what was happening, I was running barefoot down the stairwell, high heels in my hands.
And although my mind seemed to want to protect me from potential hurt by resolving the issue, it failed to come up with how exactly I ought to do that. It's not like I could just appear before her and everything would be okay. It's like at that moment, I forgot about the past completely and just wanted to be in her presence again. However, that wouldn't be so easy. Not when I've severed all our ties a while back, and we've become the thing I feared most.
Strangers.
This was more than just about taking a deep breath and biting the bullet. I wished the situation would be that simple. But it wasn't. Despite showing little to no reaction to seeing me from what she showed, I knew I was the last person she'd want to see. Now or ever.
It seemed stupid now. Ridiculous and, to an extent, even cruel, showing up in her office, in her safe space - within the glass walls of the towering building - unannounced after not seeing each other for three years. After I broke off what we had in the worst way I possibly could.
And so, with these thoughts in mind, I let my hand fall to my side, fingers sliding against the cold doorknob. There was no bravery left in me. I was petrified. And I had no idea how to overcome this fear, and whether I should overcome it at all.
Maybe I should just go back, I thought to myself as I exhaled through my mouth, letting a quiet sigh escaped with it. There was no way I could make this right, or make the visit not too overbearing. This was the fate I decided to bear the night I left, and by now, I should've learned how to live with it. And I thought I did, but the second I saw her face, all that I thought I knew, was gone. All left in its wake was the urge to scream in frustration.
But, my thoughts ventured, it would be a waste if I came all the way here and did nothing.
So with that, I raised my hand again, but this time I let it brush past the doorknob and lifted it higher until it was just a few inches away from the door. You can do this, I told myself and took one last deep breath. And with a racing heart and shaking hands, I knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" I heard her cleared her throat on the other side and when the voice reached my ears, my heart dropped. That was the first time in years, that she's spoken to me, and it had a bigger effect on the way my heart thumped, then I thought it would.
Lisa sounded as choked up as I felt, and for that, I found myself not having the answer to her question. Well, in actuality, I did. But there was no delivering of the words that have died on my tongue the second I heard her. Because not only has she not spoken to me, but I haven't heard her speak at all. This was the first time I heard its beautiful melody that never failed to relax me when I most needed it. And though I haven't heard it in so long, I've confirmed it to myself - I haven't forgotten it. It sounded the exact same as I remembered it. The exact same I heard in my nightmares when she would call my name.
"I asked," she sounded more annoyed this time, and I heard her marching steps approaching the door, "Who is it?" her voice faded out with the last syllable she spoke as she swung the door open and we came face to face.
Her eyes widened as she stared at me in what I assumed to be disbelief, and I wasn't sure what to do. What other than stare at her beauty that was now even closer than before. And not just that, I was completely at a loss for words as she seemed to be. Like I thought, she didn't seem to think I would actually follow her, and she definitely hasn't noticed I've been tailing after her the second she left me standing alone in Chanyeol's office.
"Hey," I said, my tone just above a whisper as if I was scared to speak in her presence - which essentially, I was.
She stared at me for a little longer, not quite believing her ears - and eyes, and I wondered if she perhaps hasn't heard me. It wouldn't be surprising because I was sure the hammering of my heart against my ribcage was loud enough to make it hard to hear anything else. However, from her lack of reaction, I was scared to repeat what I said and had nothing better to say either. So I just continued standing there, my fist still up from the previous knock, barely breathing, and hoping that she would just do something.
And just when I started losing hope, just like when we met in the office, her eyes turned cold and she attempted to shut the door in my face. Luckily, I expected that kind of reaction and so I stopped the door from closing with my hand and looked at her through the gap with pleading eyes, "Lisa, please-"
"Leave," she said coldly, "I have work to do," with that said, she attempted to close the door again, but failed as my palm against her door hasn't relented.
"Can we talk?" my tone hopeful as I pleaded with the younger woman. However, her stone-cold gaze hasn't softened one bit. It grew even more apathetic with each word I spoke.
"No,"
I had no plan in mind, nothing specific I hoped to tell her in case she'd let me in. And still, I fought. I came all this way and now I was standing right here in front of her, talking to her, looking into those eyes. No, I wouldn't back down. Even if we ended up sitting on a couch in her office, in complete silence.
With renewed vigor, I pushed against her door, seemingly startling the other woman, and pushed it open a tad further before she recovered and stopped it from moving, "I have to talk to you, Lisa, please,"
"There's nothing to talk about Mrs. Park,"
Her words cut deep. The way she said it as if I meant nothing to her. As if I was no one but her boss's wife. As if I didn't matter. Discarding me completely and treating me as if she didn't even know me. I felt tears sting in my eyes as I became nauseated once again, but I held my tears at bay.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work," that seemed to do it. The professional tone in her voice, the look of complete indifference, no sign of emotion in her dull eyes. Nothing. I was absolutely nothing to her but a nuisance. But a part of her past that apparently wasn't even worth remembering.
My head hung low as tears prickled in my eyes, on the verge of falling. I didn't want her to see it. I refused to show her that her attitude hurt me as much as it did. Not because of pride, but simply because I wasn't the one who was entitled to cry. No, I did this. And she just continued living her life as she should've. So if I expected anything else, I was a fool.
There was no fight left in me, no motivation raging like wildfire within my heart. Lisa killed whatever was left of it, and I knew she did what was right. I no longer had it in me to be relentless and stand my ground. She made her choice and clearly; she wasn't about to change it. And she sure as hell didn't want to see me.
I will not hurt you anymore, Lisa.
So when the door shut in my face with a bang, without another word from the raven, I let my tears fall freely as they cascaded down my cheeks, leaving wet trails in their wake. And though I knew I deserved it, I couldn't help myself but cry. Because I really messed up. It's like I realized just now that I got to see it on my own, but she really loathed me. Having the one you'd put your life for hate you the way she did was beyond any pain I could've imagined.
But I would endure the pain for both of us because that's all I could do. Pray for you and hope that there's someone who's making you happy. Someone who you can come rushing home to. Because that's what at least one of us deserved - a home.
"What are you doing here?" an angry voice made my head snap up to meet a fiery gaze, "I thought I told you to wait for me in the office," he seethed.
"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered out, trying to conceal that I've been crying, but it was to no use. I didn't have to see myself to know my eyes have been bloodshot red, there was a red tint on the tip of my nose, and my lips were quivering. I didn't have to see, to know I was a mess. And I knew it didn't get past his sharp eyes either.
"And why the fuck are you crying?"
"I-it's the hormones," I excused myself, hoping Chanyeol would eat up the lie I made.
He looked me up and down skeptically before relenting, and his eyes softened, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I muttered under my breath and dabbed under my eyes carefully to get rid of any runny mascara, or remains of tears. I had to appear composed.
"I was just about to head up when I noticed you standing here. Why did you leave the office?" the question sounded reproaching and I knew if I didn't give him a satisfying enough answer, he wouldn't be happy that I disobeyed his orders.
However, for this question, I didn't have an answer. What was I doing here? Why did I leave the office? Why didn't I stay just like he told me to? Ever since we got to New York, I started "acting up" and I knew he took notice. Thankfully, now that I was pregnant, he usually refrained from physical abuse and let a few things slip here and there, but I could tell from the way he would look at me or address me; he wasn't happy with my change of attitude.
I was always the silent wife he nurtured with fear. I never talked, let alone, talked back, gave my opinions on matters, or questioned his decisions. Not once would I do anything that went against his orders, and I always did everything in my power so he would be happy. But ever since we left Korea and I've got more anxious, I was on edge. And apparently, when I'm on edge, I'm not the perfect wife he created.
However, despite all my efforts, and getting in Chanyeol's bad grades, I failed to avoid the things I feared. But now, for once, I thought that maybe it was for the better. At least as far as it goes with Jennie - probably Jisoo too.
"I was dying to check out the other offices that I couldn't wait until you got back," I tried, "I was hoping to get back before you did, but I lost track of time. It's so beautiful and huge, I still can't believe it's all yours," I faked a smile.
He didn't look too pleased with my answer, but he seemed to decide to let it go for now and sighed, "You should've waited as I told you to. No matter, I wanted to show you this floor next. At least I don't have to go up and down,"
"Y-you did?" I started panicking.
"Our best photographer is situated here," he nodded, "In fact, you're standing right in front of her office,"
Oh no, I felt the blood in my veins run cold as I was sure color drained from my face.
"Come on, I want to introduce you,"
If I could escape, I would. But there was no other option for me but to watch him raise his index finger and knock against the door with fear filling my entire being. And Chanyeol being Chanyeol, he hasn't waited for the person on the other side of the door to open it or tell him he could enter. Instead, the second the sound of knocking filled the now empty hallway - since everyone quieted down after seeing their new CEO, he grabbed the doorknob and twisted, exposing the insides of Lisa's office to my eyes.
"After you," he muttered and stepped away from the door, letting me enter first. Already, I knew this was a terrible idea.
Walking inside the office, I met Lisa's gaze instantly, and this time around, her anger was mixed with visible annoyance. She was fuming, and I would lie if I said it didn't hurt, "I thought I told you to get lost," she walked over to me and was just about to push me out of her office, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Chanyeol behind me.
"Miss Manoban?" Chanyeol asked with raised eyebrows, daring her to repeat her words.
"I-I.." she stuttered, clearly embarrassed and surprised seeing both of us enter, "I thought..."
"Yes?" he challenged.
I could see it in her eyes - she had no explanation to give for her behavior that clearly annoyed her boss. It was my fault, and I couldn't let her get into trouble for something caused by me. Not again. So without hesitation, I spoke up, turning my head around to look at my husband.
"Earlier I came to see her, I wanted to see some pictures she shot and even after she asked me to leave because she had work to do, I continued to annoy her. It's not her fault,"
The black-haired man looked at me incredulously but averted his eyes back to the beautiful woman standing in front of us, "Is that so?"
"Well..." she clearly didn't know whether to go with the lie I made up and was struggling whether to accept my help. I knew she hated my guts but despite that, I trained my eyes on hers that searched mine, begging her to just go along with it, "Yeah," she muttered quietly and looked back at Chanyeol.
"Still, that's no way to treat my wife. She just wanted to see your pictures I'm sure it wouldn't take up much of your time," he said, annoyed, "Don't you have something you would like to say to Chaeyoung?" he stepped closer to her with a threatening posture after she stayed quiet.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Park," she mumbled.
"Louder!" Chanyeol roared.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Park, it won't happen again," she looked up to meet my eyes, and this time, they were filled with so much anger, directed at no one other than me, it broke my heart even further than she already has.
"Where's the respect, Manoban?" he spat, "Know your place. You're not irreplaceable,"
And as much as I tried to convey how sorry I was through my eyes, her anger only seemed to rise as her brown irises practically turned orange from the flames of hatred smoldering, roaring in them. It was hurtful to see the same pair of eyes that used to look at me with so much love; were now looking at me with loathing, staring daggers straight into my soul. Killing every last part of me that remained alive.
"Yes sir," she said through gritted teeth, her eyes, however, not leaving mine for even a second.
I couldn't take the pain, couldn't take the way she was looking at me as if she wished nothing more than for me to disappear. My eyes searched the floor, avoiding hers because I knew if I looked at her for even a while longer, I would break down in tears once again.
Never in a million years have I thought I'd see you again. And now that I did, there was nothing left of your love. Pain, anger, and regret replaced all of it. So now, all that was left was hatred filling your previously loving heart. I wished you knew that I hated me plenty for both of us. That you didn't have to poison your heart with wretched hate and ruin yourself for me.
Because I wanted nothing more than to disappear too. To be deep under the ground where no one could reach me, not even oxygen I knew I needed to survive. Because I didn't want to. Not like this. Not when I couldn't look at myself without regret. Without wanting to scream at what I saw.
You didn't have to hate me, Lisa, not this much. Trust me, I hate myself for you too. My heart - just like yours, has transformed, and there was nothing of my previous self left. Only anger and humiliation. Though I understood, you shouldn't have to waste your energy on someone as pathetic as me.
So when you looked at me and I averted my eyes, it was not only for the pain but for respect. Because I didn't deserve to look at you, meeting your fiery gaze. I didn't even deserve to breathe in your presence. Not after everything I did. I was ashamed. I would always be ashamed.
"You're lucky your photographing skills make up for your lack of respect," he continued after a few seconds of silence, "Otherwise you'd be packing your things right about now.
Anyway. Chaeyoung, I would like you to meet Lisa, but it seems like you've already had the pleasure," he said bitterly, and I shakily extended my hand for her to shake.
As expected, Lisa hesitated and looked rather reluctant to take my hand, repulsed at the idea of touching my skin. If only she knew, I was repulsed to be in my skin too. I couldn't blame her for not wanting to touch me as if I was a deadly disease. Because in a sense, I was. A deadly virus, destroying everything - or rather everyone, it touches. And she was my first victim.
However, after Chanyeol gave her a pointed glare, she slowly raised her hand up, and I unknowingly held my breath in anticipation. Because though I didn't want to admit it to myself, I craved her warmth. I craved to feel the way her hand fit in mine. To touch her skin again. Just like always, she was the drug I was addicted to. But it was hard being addicted to something you couldn't get, and when you did, it was killing you.
The second her hand touched mine, it was as if an electric current ran through me and I suppressed the urge to shiver. Because as soon as I felt the warmth of her hand, it spread through me like a wildfire, setting my body on fire. Suddenly I no longer felt stone cold, as if I were already dead, but warm. And as much as I hated the thought, I knew her touch brought me back to life again.
Her skin was just as soft as I remembered, even though she no longer touched me the same way she used to. Even so, it was gentle, as if she was holding onto a fragile piece of glass.
The way her fingers wrapped themselves around the back of my palm made butterflies in my stomach erupt, and it surprised me. I believed they were long gone, but one touch and all the feelings I once felt came rushing back.
My heart started beating harder, but this time around, with each beat, I felt it shatter. Because I knew this was no longer mine. That her hands weren't mine to hold anymore, and this would be the last time I would feel their warmth. The last time I would feel her fingertips brush against mine like they used to back when we were both in denial, repressing our feelings from surfacing, but always found a way to each other.
It was beautifully nostalgic, but more than that, it was painful. One touch and all others came rushing back. My body remembered her loving hands, her touches, and the way she would trace patterns along my skin. And every inch of skin she ever touched started burning, as if trying to burn a hole through my clothes and divert attention to them. It was so clear; my heart wasn't the only part of me that missed her.
And though it was short-lived, I knew the simple touch ruined everything. The moment her hand left mine and twitched by her side as if she was suppressing the urge to wipe it against her slacks, my heart hurt. My head hurt. My body ached. I didn't want to do this anymore. I didn't want to be in her presence any longer. It was too painful watching her hate me as much as she did. Everything she did screamed just how much she despised me - everything about me. And I couldn't handle it.
"So how's it going with the newest pictures? Are you at least halfway through? Because from what I've seen so far, they're pretty shit. I expected more Manoban, especially from the way your previous boss gloated about you,"
"It's better, I've been-"
"I sure hope so. Because if you disappoint me, I'll have your replacement here by Tuesday,"
"Tuesday? But there's still so much-"
"Are you saying you're going to defy your superior?"
"What? No! I-"
"Are you questioning my judgment?"
"I wouldn't dare to-"
"Leave it on my desk by tomorrow morning or you're fired. Are we clear?"
"Yes sir,"
"Now show me-"
Their faded out conversation, became even more distant, as I ran out of the office and I could barely hear Chanyeol calling after me. But I couldn't be bothered to turn back. The room was suffocating me and the need to vomit became more pressing with each second the thoughts of her hands, of her intoxicating smell that lingered the office, filled my entire being.
I couldn't be in her presence for even a second longer. It was too much for me to take. So without another thought, I ran out and headed for the restrooms.
Rushing past the employees, not caring about the looks I received, I made a B line for the women's bathroom I saw behind the corner just ahead.
"Don't worry, Chongha, it's cute,"
My head was pounding, and I felt myself losing footing as my head spun.
"I'm going to keep you safe, remember?"
I threw myself at the grey door, falling through and almost down on the white tiles of the restroom.
"Am I corrupting you?"
Headed for the first open stall, I swung the door behind me, without bothering to lock it.
"I missed you,"
Falling down to my knees, I and wrapped my arms around the toilet seat.
"You're beautiful,"
And spewed my insides out.
"Because I love you,"