Fear | K.th [Editing]

A Tomorrow Without Tears [78°]

⚠️TW:⚠️ CUTTING AND ABUSE OF PILLS

Sanha's head turns toward the phone when it begins to ring. Closing the book he was just previously reading, he stands up from the couch to retrieve the call. It was close to six in the afternoon. He had just gotten back from his classes around four and was resting in the living area before he started dinner, lucky enough to get home before it started to pour down on the city.

His mind wanders to who could be calling as he reaches for the phone; maybe his professor, or someone from his job. He lifts the burnt-orange corded phone up to his ear and answers the call with a soft 'Hello?' as he shifts his gaze out the window, peering at the rain knocking against the glass.

It's silent for a few seconds. There's a chuckle on the other line, then a 'hey, dummy' flows quietly after. Sanha's eyes widen, lips curving upward in a lazy grin before he's running a hand through his dark hair. He looks toward the side and bites his lip to suppress his sudden elation.

Her voice was all too familiar, like a bed of roses blossoming in the night. It had been weeks, days he watched pass by. He waited by the phone, anxious, anticipating a call back to give him the relief that tugged against his hands, gripped around his neck, and itched inside his throat.

His long fingers wrap around the cord, hands trembling with fever. His eyes close as he sighs, inhaling solace. "It's about time you contacted me, jerk."

From the tone of her voice he detects a smile playing on her lips. He was proud that she's relearning to become less serious, being able to smile during the times of which she once huddled in the corner of the bathroom clutching her head to make the nightmares go away. 'How are you doing?'

The boy huffs, "Alright," His eyes cascade over to the calendar on the fridge. He repeats the same question to her, the female responding methodically.

He wishes he could call the female whenever, but she's made it clear it wouldn't be a good idea when they first arrived in Italy and he had to live on his own for the first time in his life. He was only 18. A bit afraid of what could happen to him, not wanting to let go of her as soon as they reunited.

She had reassured her little brother that she would come to his rescue if something were to ever happen to him, but not to worry because everything would be better—safer, here in Italy.

The tatted female would only call when she deemed it right to. Whenever she would call, there wasn't much the two had to talk about. It was the usual questions, how's school, has he been eating well, taking care of himself, etcetera.

Sanha's life was quiet for the most part, just a law student busy with his studies. She had mentioned to her brother one time she was recently involving herself with an older Italian man who lives in Florence.

He didn't worry over the age gap or criticize her choice of who she was attracted to. He was just venerated that she's finally opening up to new people and slowly allowing them to get closer to her. If the man was treating his sister with the worth he knows she deserves, he could care less about anything else. 'Your birthday's coming up,'

He smiles knowingly, lowering his gaze. "That's why you called...To ask me what I'd like for a present, right?" Guilty. She confesses, asking him what he'd want.

It's obvious. Both of them are aware of what lingers in the back of their mind. He's expressed his concern over it every time she calls; when she does call.

The law student takes a deep breath, pacing around the table where the phone resides. He knows it's not possible, deciding not to even bother bringing up his wish for his sister to tell him what he doesn't know about her. About why they fled Korea, who that man with her the night he caught her lighting their old home on fire was, or why his maid Gia knows more about his sisters double life than he, but won't tell him what he wants to hear.