trouble ¦ lee jeno (UNDER REWRITING)

ch ; 07

.・。.・゜⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ 07 ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅・゜・。.

Seojin found herself adrift in a sea of inky blackness. The only point of reference, a single, beckoning door, glowed with an otherworldly light.

Drawn by an unseen force, she reached out, her fingers brushing cool, smooth wood. With a creak that echoed in the vast emptiness, the door swung open.

Stepping through, the darkness deepened, a thick, suffocating blanket that stole her breath. Her head spun as she stumbled forward, each tentative step echoing in the void.

Then, a flicker. A shape began to coalesce in the inky distance, a silhouette limned in an ethereal glow.

Her feet, seemingly disconnected from her own will, propelled her forward. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, a drumbeat against the silent symphony of darkness.

As she drew closer, the figure remained tantalizingly out of reach, receding with each step she took. A yearning, sharp and unfamiliar, clawed at her chest.

She reached out, a desperate plea in the silent expanse. But her hand, heavy and sluggish, could never quite grasp the retreating form. Panic gnawed at the edges of her consciousness.

Who was it?

Why did their presence evoke such a profound longing?

Finally, the figure stopped. It stood before her, bathed in the same ethereal glow that cast its face in shadow. Seojin strained to see, a desperate need to know warring with a strange sense of familiarity. This shadow, this stranger, felt like a missing piece, a puzzle fragment she yearned to fit into place.

Just as she leaned forward, hand outstretched, a wave of black water surged forward. It pulsed and swirled, engulfing the figure, devouring the room, devouring everything. Fear turned the dream liquid, and she was drowning, pulled under by the relentless tide.

Then, with a gasp, Seojin woke.

Her eyes flew open, the darkness of the room a stark contrast to the inky depths of her dream. Her heart hammered in her chest, a frantic echo of the dream's urgency. The figure, the longing, the suffocating darkness – it all lingered on the edges of her consciousness, a half-forgotten melody playing on a broken record.

Seojin blinked, the dream a hazy wisp at the edges of her mind. Disoriented, she took in the unfamiliar room – dark-wooded furniture bathed in a soft, indirect light.

Peering out the window, she saw an inky blackness that offered no clues about the time. To be sure, she pinched herself, half-expecting to wake up from another dream layer.

A dull ache throbbed in her head, a souvenir from her self-inflicted night of misery. Fumbling on the bedside table, she found her phone.

The screen illuminated the darkness, displaying 3:14 AM on Sunday, July 16th. A gasp escaped her lips. She had slept through the entire Saturday, lost in a house that wasn't hers.

Panic clawed at her throat. Multiple missed calls from her parents flashed on the screen, a stark reminder of her recklessness.

Throwing off the covers, she realized she was still in the clothes she'd worn on Friday night, an oversized shirt the only addition.

Leaving the room, she navigated the unfamiliar hallway, her senses on high alert. Every corner seemed to hold a question mark.

The kitchen beckoned, and she stumbled towards it, her throat parched. A swig straight from the first water bottle she found in the fridge did little to quench the burning dryness.