While You Were Sleeping — Prologue
South of Yeongdong Bridge, where the land was notoriously expensive, a low moan that had no business being there drifted through Felice, the townhouse enclave sprawled across an enormous stretch of ground.
"Kh... damn it."
Pale moonlight seeped into a bedroom that held nothing but a single wall-mounted television. A frameless mattress lay stark against one wall, filling the whole of it.
At the center of that wide mattress, a woman in a rippling silk nightgown straddled the man lying faceup and bore down on him with brutal force.
"Ah—ngh..."
A groan kept forcing its way through the teeth he had clenched shut.
A keenly honed blade bit into skin, and blood pattered down the arm where the tendons stood out like cords.
The moment he let go, the point would be at his throat. The threat left him no room to move.
Damn it. Damn it.
He couldn't decide what to do. There was no telling what that cold, gleaming knife might do, and he didn't dare put his strength into a sudden move.
More than the palm being carved apart, what seized him first was Yeon—the fear of her waking to this and coming undone.
Or should I wake her? Can I keep her safe while I do?
If I shout, will she wake? And if she does, what am I supposed to say?
This is going to drive me insane. It really is.
Judging he could not hold out any longer, Seol-woo squeezed his eyes shut and shouted.
"Chen! Ethan! Chen!"
The voice rang down the hall. Urgent footsteps answered it, and two men came running.
"Careful—don't let Yeon get hurt. Careful. Chen, get the knife away first."
"Ethan, a towel! Are you out of your mind? You trying to get yourself killed? You should've called us ages ago! How the hell did you endure it until it got this bad, you crazy bastard!"
"Quiet. Yeon isn't awake yet. How's her hand?"
"It's not deep. She's all right."
Chen, who had already flung far aside the fruit knife that belonged in the kitchen, turned his fury on his boneheaded friend. Seol-woo clenched his teeth against a groan and closed his hand around the towel Ethan held out.
His face, crumpled past recognition, and the hands that would not stop shaking told the measure of the pain.
"I'll get Dr. Jang on the phone and be right back."
"Cha Seol-woo, get up. Living room first."
Ethan let out a pained breath and left the bedroom to call the doctor. Seol-woo glanced at Yeon—still asleep, thank God—and began, carefully, to move.
"Oppa..."
Hell.
He had been crawling out on his knees, his hands useless, and at the sound he stopped.
Yeon, awake, looked from the sheets stained red to Seol-woo, and back again.
The situation was not hard to read. It was obviously her doing.
The golden eyes that had been full of light sank beneath an abyss whose depth no one could measure.
"What happened? Don't tell me—again. Where are you hurt? Are you hurt badly? Turn around."
"I'm fine."
"Liar. You don't want to turn around? Then I'll come around front."
Yeon shot up off the bed and came around to stand before him.
And of all colors, the towel had to be white.
Seol-woo fidgeted with the cloth wrapped around his hand and avoided her eyes.
She swept the bedroom once, as if searching for something, then looked up at Chen where he stood at Seol-woo's side.
"Chen. What was it?"
"Don't tell her, Chen!"
"A fruit knife. I'm sorry, Yeon-ah. We should have been more careful."
Chen answered without resistance. He wanted to keep it from her as badly as Seol-woo did, but it was not a thing they could hide to the end.
"Ha... a knife? So that's what I've come to—I tried to kill Oppa? What is wrong with me? If I'm going to lose my mind, I could at least lose it cleanly. Why!"
"Yeon-ah, calm down. Oppa's fine. He really is all right."
"No, he's not. He's not all right, not all right at all! I—to Oppa, I did this to Oppa... How is that all right? What about any of this is all right!"
Shaking from head to foot, she sank down and wrapped her arms around her knees, screaming as if the sound might tear its way out of her. The fact that she had nearly killed Seol-woo terrified her.
The tears that had gathered spilled over and fell, drop by drop, from her chin.
"Send me to the hospital. I'd rather be in the hospital."
"Yeon-ah."
"I want to go. Please send me. I'm scared that if this keeps up, I'll really kill you, Oppa."
"Stop."
Seol-woo dragged his knees forward until he was close to her. Chen watched the two of them for a moment, then shook his head and went out.
"How many times is this already? I can't live like this. I don't want to live. Living is hell!"
Yeon lifted her trembling hands and covered her soaked face.
"If you die, I die too. If you're going to be the one who kills me in the end, whether we live or die, then let's live a little longer together. You've gotten so much better. Today was my fault. I was wrong."
Does this man not even feel pain?
The hand streaming blood was the last thing on his mind. Seol-woo smiled, soft, set only on soothing the Yeon who was crying so hard. It ached that he could not stroke that lush fall of platinum hair.
Yeon bit down on her red lips and could not take her eyes off his wounded hand.
She disgusted herself. She wanted to tear at her own body.
Unsound mind or not, how could she hurt the man she loved and still fail to claw her way out of the dream?
You're horrible, Sun Woo-yeon.
"It must hurt. Dr. Jang, he—"
Without her meaning to, the words slurred and tangled.
Yeon's eyes slackened, heavy and unfocused, and Seol-woo let out a breath of relief. However long she slept, he would wait. For now, it was better that she sleep.
Maybe this is for the best. When she wakes, everything will be all right.
"Oppa, you have to..."
"Don't worry. Sleep."
Her eyelids, growing heavy of their own accord, chose the wrong moment once again and sank.
She needed to see Oppa treated. She needed to see how deep the wound went.
Sleep crashed over her, and Seol-woo's face blurred as if it were very far away. Closing her eyes completely, Yeon wished for one thing.
That even this moment—the moment she had nearly killed him—would, please, only be a dream.