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Out of the corner of her eye, she sees something. A pale face, lacy skirts, eyes so wide and so kind. A flash of blonde hair.
Just for a second, a mirage among the rest of the students clambering towards the windows like one singular mass. Just for a second, and then she's gone.
A second isn't enough.
She wants more.
But Hyejoo's hand is already at her wrist, her fingers already pulling at the loose thread. The ribbon is already shifting, the fabric of time melting between her fingers like soft wax.
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Bookmark Notes:
Oh hi I’m a creeper 👀
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