extraterrestrial || winrina

1

The smell of freshly baked bread and roasted vegetables filled the small kitchen, but Winter barely noticed. She sat across from her grandmother, the gentle clink of cutlery against plates the only sound between them. Her fork hovered over her food, pushing around the peas rather than eating them. The weight of silence hung in the air, thicker than the summer heat outside.

Her grandmother noticed Winter's distraction. "Something on your mind, dear?" she asked, her voice gentle yet probing.

Winter sighed, her eyes never leaving her plate. "Just… a lot," she murmured.

The old woman nodded, her face lined with understanding. "And your parents? How are they?"

Winter's voice was tinged with a familiar frustration as she replied, "Same old story. Dad's busy with his new family, and Mom... well, she's too wrapped up in work to notice much of anything."

Her grandmother's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Winter. You know you're always welcome here. This place is yours as much as it is mine."

"I know, Grandma. Thanks." Winter offered a small smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

After dinner, Winter offered to help with the dishes, but her grandmother waved her off. "It's fine, love. You've had a long trip today. You should get some rest."

Winter hesitated, not wanting to leave her grandmother to do all the work, but eventually nodded. "Alright, goodnight, Grandma."

"Goodnight, Winter. Sleep well."

But sleep was the last thing on Winter's mind. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a tangled mess. Life had become a monotonous cycle—school, home, silence. No real friends, no one who truly understood her. She felt a deep, aching loneliness that seemed to grow with each passing day.

Restless, Winter slipped out of bed and moved to the window. The cool night air greeted her as she opened it. Without much thought, she climbed out onto the roof. Her bare feet gripping the roof tiles as she carefully made her way to her usual spot, seeking solace under the blanket of stars. She often came here when she needed to think, or when the world felt too heavy.

As she gazed up at the sky, a sudden streak of light caught her eye—a shooting star. Her heart leaped at the sight, and instinctively, she closed her eyes and made a wish. "Please… let this summer be different. Let something exciting happen."

But when she opened her eyes, the shooting star hadn't vanished like usual. It was still there, growing larger, brighter, hurtling toward the Earth. Winter's breath caught in her throat as she watched it descend, confusion and fear mingling in her chest.

The streak of light crashed into her grandmother's sunflower field, the impact sending a shockwave that rattled the roof beneath her feet. Startled, she almost lost her balance, but managed to steady herself at the last moment.

Her breath caught in her throat. What had she just seen? There was no way that was just a regular meteorite. Gripped by a mix of fear and curiosity, Winter scrambled back into her room and grabbed a torch from the bedside drawer. She slipped on her shoes and, heart racing, made her way outside, towards the sunflower field.

The cool night air brushed against her skin as she jogged through the familiar rows of sunflowers, their tall stalks towering over her. As she reached the edge of the field, she saw it—a smoking crater with a small, sleek object at its center. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie: a spaceship pod, small but undeniably advanced.

Winter's heart pounded in her chest as she approached the pod, her torchlight flickering over its smooth, metallic surface. Before she could process what she was seeing, the pod hissed, and a section of it slid open. She stumbled back, nearly dropping the torch.

Out of the pod stepped a figure—a girl, but not like any girl Winter had ever seen. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with features that seemed almost otherworldly. She wore a high-tech suit that clung to her slender frame, the fabric shimmering in the moonlight. But the girl was injured. Her movements were slow and pained, and as she took a few unsteady steps, she collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

Winter hesitated, fear and confusion warring within her. But she knew one thing for certain: this girl, this alien, needed her help.

She took a deep breath and slowly approached the unconscious figure, kneeling beside her. "What am I even doing?" she muttered to herself, but there was no turning back now. With considerable effort, Winter managed to drag the girl into her grandmother's barn.

Inside the barn, Winter carefully laid the girl down on the soft hay, her mind racing. It was then that Winter noticed something peculiar about the girl's suit. Written on the front, in a mix of what looked like human letters and numbers, were the characters "K4R1N-4." Winter stared at the name, trying to make sense of it.

Pushing her questions aside, Winter hurried back to the house, because the alien girl needed aid right now. She grabbed a first aid kit from the bathroom and returned to the barn.

The alien girl was still unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady. Winter knelt beside her, opening the kit with trembling hands. "I hope this works," she whispered, as she began cleaning and dressing the wounds as best she could. She was no doctor, but she couldn't just do nothing.

As she gently applied the medication, the girl's eyes suddenly snapped open. Winter gasped, nearly dropping the kit in shock. The girl's eyes were unlike anything she had ever seen—one was a piercing pink, the other a deep blue. They were beautiful, but there was something unsettling about them in the dim light.

The alien girl sat up abruptly, her expression blank as she scanned her surroundings. There was no emotion on her face, only a cold, calculating look. But when her gaze fell on Winter, she backed away, fear flickering in her mismatched eyes.

"It's okay," Winter said quickly, holding up her hands to show she meant no harm. "I won't hurt you. I'm just trying to help."

The alien girl watched her warily, her breathing shallow. Winter slowly reached out with the antiseptic, her movements careful. "See? I'm just going to treat your wounds, okay?"

The alien hesitated but didn't move away as Winter gently applied the antiseptic. The girl winced but didn't pull back, watching Winter warily with those strange, glowing mismatched eyes. Winter couldn't help but notice the streaks of pink in the girl's otherwise black hair, adding to her ethereal appearance.

The alien girl tried to speak, her voice a series of unfamiliar sounds, like a language Winter had never heard before.

"I... Don't.." Winter shook her head, as if to say she has no idea what the other girl is trying to say.

The girl frowned and reached for her neck, where a small device was clipped. It was cracked, sparking faintly.

"Is that... a translator?" Winter guessed, but of course, the alien couldn't understand her either.

The girl grimaced, her hand going to her head as if in pain. She swayed slightly, and before Winter could react, she slumped forward, unconscious once more.

Winter caught her before she fell, gently laying her back down. "What am I supposed to do now?" she whispered to the dark barn, but there was no answer.

Sighing, Winter settled down next to the alien, deciding to keep watch for the rest of the night. Whatever had just happened, she knew one thing for certain: her wish for excitement had just come true—though not in the way she'd expected.

As she sat there, listening to the alien's slow, even breathing, she realized this summer was going to be anything but ordinary.

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When I was thinking about this story, I couldn't help but envision Karina as the alien girl. Because her beauty is just so...unreal! Also, I took the inspiration for her pink and blue mismatched eyes from aespa's Savage M/V.