BELLADONNA

Chp31: For You

When I woke up that morning, the soft, sweet aroma of a freshly baked blueberry muffin filled the air. It gently stirred my senses awake, my eyes caught sight of a delicate hydrangea bloom resting next to the muffin on the nightstand. The pastel petals looked soft and fragile, almost too perfect to touch.

Nestled between the muffin and the flower was a neatly folded note, written in elegant, familiar handwriting.

I reached for the note, my fingers trembling ever so slightly, and unfolded it carefully. My eyes scanned the words, and my heart skipped a beat:

"I am very near, my dear. Please don’t be frightened. I will never harm you. I am on your side, and I always want the very best for you. You can count on me."

A chill ran down my spine despite the seemingly comforting words. There was something unsettling about the message, something in the way it was phrased that made me uneasy. It was meant to reassure me, but instead, it left me with more questions than answers. Who had left this for me? Why?

And then it dawned on me… belladonna. It’s her. The realization hit me like a cold wave crashing over my body. She had left the blueberry muffin—again—and now, with these flowers. The hydrangea seemed innocent enough at first glance, but after what had happened before, I knew better than to dismiss anything as mere coincidence. This was her signature, her calling card. The belladonna—poisonous, lethal—had been her first message, and now this was her way of reminding me she was still there, watching, always near.

The thought sent a jolt of panic through me. I couldn’t stay there any longer, couldn’t linger in the presence of her silent, yet ominous gift. Without even bothering to tidy myself up, I rushed out of the room, the sense of urgency fueling every step. My breath came in shallow bursts as my mind raced, piecing together the scattered fragments of fear and confusion.

I needed answers, and Wooyoung was the only person I could turn to. I bolted down the hall, the familiar surroundings of the house suddenly feeling foreign and claustrophobic. My footsteps quickened, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of Wooyoung’s door, hand raised and trembling slightly. What if he knew more than he was letting on? What if he had answers to the questions that had been gnawing at me?

I knocked firmly, the sound cutting through the heavy silence, and waited—praying that he would answer quickly.

Wooyoung opened the door almost instantly, as if he had been awake long before I even knocked. His eyes met mine, and without a word, he seemed to understand.

“Wooyoung…”

I whispered, my voice barely audible, filled with a mixture of fear and confusion.

He didn’t need me to explain; the look on my face said it all. He knew. He knew about the muffins—again. It was as though he could sense the anxiety radiating off me, the dread I felt from seeing those little reminders of her presence. Without hesitation, he reached out and gently intertwined his fingers with mine. His hand was warm, a grounding contrast to the icy fear coursing through me. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, silently telling me that I wasn’t alone in this, that we’d face it together, whatever “this” was.

He didn’t say a word as he started leading the way back to my room, guiding me with a quiet, steady determination. His presence brought me some comfort, but the weight of the situation still hung heavy in the air. I could feel my pulse racing, my mind frantically trying to make sense of everything—why was this happening again? What did she want from me this time?

As we approached my room, a part of me dreaded returning to the scene, but with Wooyoung by my side, I felt just a little stronger, just a little less afraid.