plant a rose in my heart and let your thorns bleed me dry
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Ryujin seemed to understand, in the split second before Sayeon’s fingers snapped, what Sayeon was about to do. Her mouth opened, her hands started to reach out, and then they were right back where they had been before Sayeon said anything.
Ryujin, by luck or some natural instinct, could see through Sayeon’s lies. She didn’t have control of that variable — yet. For now, the fact that Ryujin could see through her was for the worse.
It made Sayeon sick.
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Ryujin remembers who she’s talking to. Sayeon, who never seems vulnerable, who never questions herself. Who put herself and Ryujin in danger so Ryujin would use her gift, which she refuses to admit to. She wonders what it took for her to swallow her pride and ask something like that. Wonders what answer Sayeon is truly hoping for.
“Well, it’s all relative, isn’t it?”
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She sits down and picks up her stuffed rabbit from next to her pillow. Her heart feels like it’s in overdrive, struggling to keep beating. She slides off the edge of the bed, holding the stuffed animal close to her chest, and squeezing.
For at least a full minute today, she did not know if Ryujin was dead. That grief feels impossible to deal with. She’s right there in the shower. She’s alive. But it doesn’t matter. She was dead earlier.
And Sayeon can’t let go of the feeling.
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Sayeon is writing a report and Ryujin is laying on their bed. Then she says, “Is it going back in time?”
“What?” Sayeon drops her pen and turns around.
“Your gift,” Ryujin says. “Is it going back in time?”
“A gift like that would be absurd,” Sayeon says, but her voice is too tight.
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