byul lies, asleep. one hand hangs off the couch, the other is draped across her eyes.
yongsun left two days ago, and byul refuses to move from where she sat, forty-eight hours before.
her mind is full of grey, dull pink, and ice blue. her hands feel light and sunflower yellow, buzzing. her chest is pitch black, an abyss, a void.
her eyes snap open.
they are crimson and deep ocean blue, and they are cloudy with tears. byul feels a lump of pain rise in her throat and she can't take a breath.
she lays there, silence pressing in on all sides, dust hanging in midair, until she falls asleep again.
..a quiet hand wraps around hers. cold, calming fingers slip gently between hers, and a strand of hair is brushed away from byul's forehead.
another hand holds her close, and byul feels. she feels everything at once. she feels a campfire burning into the night, abandoned and silent and peaceful. she feels trees grown hundreds of feet tall swaying in the wind. she feels soft grass dancing beneath soft sunlight during a cloudy midday picnic. she feels the waves of a pool during a thunderstorm, when leaves are flying and everything is grey, but the pool is blue.
her eyes snap open.
yongsun is there, kneeling by her. soft hands around her, soft eyes trained on her, quiet smile reassuring her without words.
byul can't bring herself to speak. her fingers tighten around yongsun's.
