Status: sandeul is my b1a4 love and i definitely want to finish this c:
Dreaming
THE FIRST DREAM
She’s sick.
The white blankets underneath her frail body curls into her hands. Her fingernails dig into them. She breathes in and out shakily. Small sounds escape her throat; tiny little nothings that no one can understand. Her body twists and turns. She’s bothered. Her mind’s hazy and troubled and sick sick sick. A bead of sweat runs down her forehead and into her wild, brown waves. She whimpers.
It’s a nightmare.
She’s in a white gown and everything around her is blacks and whites and greys. The pebbles on the wet ground press into her bare feet. The raging winds are slashing into her pink cheeks. The bitter cold of the air slices across her arms and legs. It hurts. It hurts but she doesn’t care; she keeps going.
She’s seen it in a movie, about the water and the ships and the people on the deck. Miyoung doesn’t remember much – only sounds and colours of the most wonderful kind. But when she reaches the bridge, she remembers. She remembers the girl running and crying and bent over the rail in desperation. It’s all in her mind, but it’s all new at the same time.
Cautious fingers skim across the roughness of the grey rail. Slowly, she lifts herself up onto the bar and peers down. The lights are bright; they move quickly and flash up and down. She’s dizzy, but so, so enthralled. A small giggle escapes her lips. She bends over the rail and breathes in, with her head above all the flashing lights.
She wants to do it. She needs to do it. She’s going to do it. She’s going to. She’s going, going, going –
And then she falls back, the adrenaline leaving her as the arm pulls her in. Dazed, she turns around, and then she sees him for the faintest moment. She sees his big brown eyes, widened in terror. She sees his pink lips, trembling from the cold and from the thought of her and her mad thoughts. She sees him, and she remembers him.
Then everything goes black.
Miyoung’s eyes startle open. Sitting up in her confined bed, she tries to calm down. She’s sweating. She’s panting. She’s awake, and soon her mouth drops open.
It’s him, and he’s grinning at her with his pink lips. “Morning.”
They think she’s sick.
“Lee Junghwan,” he says, with his hand outstretched.
They think she’s crazy.
The white blankets underneath her frail body curls into her hands. Her fingernails dig into them. She breathes in and out shakily. Small sounds escape her throat; tiny little nothings that no one can understand. Her body twists and turns. She’s bothered. Her mind’s hazy and troubled and sick sick sick. A bead of sweat runs down her forehead and into her wild, brown waves. She whimpers.
It’s a nightmare.
She’s in a white gown and everything around her is blacks and whites and greys. The pebbles on the wet ground press into her bare feet. The raging winds are slashing into her pink cheeks. The bitter cold of the air slices across her arms and legs. It hurts. It hurts but she doesn’t care; she keeps going.
She’s seen it in a movie, about the water and the ships and the people on the deck. Miyoung doesn’t remember much – only sounds and colours of the most wonderful kind. But when she reaches the bridge, she remembers. She remembers the girl running and crying and bent over the rail in desperation. It’s all in her mind, but it’s all new at the same time.
Cautious fingers skim across the roughness of the grey rail. Slowly, she lifts herself up onto the bar and peers down. The lights are bright; they move quickly and flash up and down. She’s dizzy, but so, so enthralled. A small giggle escapes her lips. She bends over the rail and breathes in, with her head above all the flashing lights.
She wants to do it. She needs to do it. She’s going to do it. She’s going to. She’s going, going, going –
And then she falls back, the adrenaline leaving her as the arm pulls her in. Dazed, she turns around, and then she sees him for the faintest moment. She sees his big brown eyes, widened in terror. She sees his pink lips, trembling from the cold and from the thought of her and her mad thoughts. She sees him, and she remembers him.
Then everything goes black.
Miyoung’s eyes startle open. Sitting up in her confined bed, she tries to calm down. She’s sweating. She’s panting. She’s awake, and soon her mouth drops open.
It’s him, and he’s grinning at her with his pink lips. “Morning.”
They think she’s sick.
“Lee Junghwan,” he says, with his hand outstretched.
They think she’s crazy.
♠ ♠ ♠
I think I'm starting up waaaay too many stories BUT this is a contest entry so it's all good. c:And I love Sandeul so - c:
Chapters will be short because I plan on (hopefully) finishing this up within two months.