content warning : car crash
appearance/s from : jang do-hyun in reference to this
"― and if all things go well, there might be a wedding invitation for you too," the delighted grin falters for a moment, contemplating her own words as if confusing even herself. "are you allowed to come to patient's weddings or is that another boundary crossing rule?"
melia smiles, almost apologetically, "that is another boundary that's best not to cross. i appreciate the thought though."
clicking away on the keyboard, she wonders what about her seems to unintentionally invite others to latch on, especially at work. she'll mostly get harmless comments like that; patients seemingly forgetting they're talking to a medical professional and instead treating her as a friend. on one hand, it is a sign that they're comfortable and trust her, which is a good thing, especially with this population. on the other, she can't help but wonder if she's giving off the wrong impressions...
"so, we're okay with leaving things where they're at, right?" melia steers the conversation back to wrapping up their appointment when she looks at her screen and sees the girl's dejected expression.
"...yes,that's okay."
"perfect. i'm thinking we can also check back in a bit later than a month, since things are going well... what about in january?"
────── 〔✿〕 ──────
she stretches a bit after closing her laptop and glances at the clock. a little break before the next session won't hurt and she wants to check-in on yeonu anyways. she ventures out the office and down the hall to the living room, but before she can make it there, melia feels a hand circle around her wrist and tug her backwards, sending her stumbling into a pair of arms.
"jang do-hyun, you scared me half to death!" the scolding she wants to give him doesn't quite land, failing to resist the urge to giggle when he does his usual greeting of lightly bumping his head against hers.
"sorry, i was just about to let you know i'll be gone for a few hours."
"to see your friend, yes?"
he nods. he had been getting out quite often lately— not that she has complaints. as much as melia would love to spend all day snuggling up with her baby and boyfriend, maintaining healthy boundaries was important. she raises herself on her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye but the moment lips touch, a stabbing pain erupts in her head. she gasps, almost doubling over while clutching the right side of face.
"mel?!" dohyun’s frantic voice sounds muffled and far away, though she knows he’s right there. she can feel him his arms tightening around her waist to keep her upright, "are you okay? what's happening?!"
it only lasts a few seconds, subsiding to a dull throbbing, but the pain is so excruciating it felt like hours of torture. something is very wrong, something to do with him. her head was spinning with waves of emotions as he holds her at arms-length to examine her. "i-i'm... fine," she answers weakly, doing her best to straighten up and give him a reassuring smile. "it's just a migraine. i get them a lot." and when the look on his face makes his concern obvious, she waves him away dismissively, "seriously, i'm okay! i'll take some medicine and lay down for a bit... but you should get going."
those words leave a bitter taste in her mouth and her throat dry but she choose to ignore it. it was likely some kind of sickness, her body still recovering from giving birth. dohyun is clearly not convinced, so she all but shove him out the front door. "your friend is probably waiting, hyun! just... be careful, okay?"
he hesitates for a moment but knew better than to argue with her, and mutters a "of course" while leaning down to give her one last kiss on the top of the head before heading out the door. "i love you."
"love you too."
as soon as the lock turns, melia is stumbling back down the hall, shearing pain returning in full force. vision is blurry and her mouth tastes like pennies. her stomach churns and threatens to come up. half-blind, she rummages through the bathroom's medicine cabinet until she makes out the label of the right bottle, struggling with the cap for a second too long before throwing back two pills dry. she then leans over the sink, turning the faucet on so cold water gushes out and greedily drinks straight from the tap until the thirst finally subsides.
breathing heavily, she slowly raises her head but is no longer in her bathroom and instead on a street. all around her, there's debris, smoking pieces of various vehicles, people screaming in agony. the ones who weren’t crying out for help are crowded on the sidewalks, trying to catch a glimpse of the scene with some morbid curiosity, gawking like a mindless mob. she shoves her way through the crowd, no one really paying her any mind, and stumbles into a smaller street, only to be met with something that makes her blood run cold. in front of her, there's a familiar car flipped over and without really thinking, her foot takes a step forward. glass crunches beneath her feet and smell the scent of blood is invading her nose. her whole body feels like it's weighed down, making ever step harder and harder to make.
she doesn't want to see who's in the driver seat, but she has to. she already knows who it is, but she has to look.
eyes are burning, either from smoke or tears, and breath is rapid and shallow with a growing sense of panic as she inches forward. she doesn't want to see, but she leans forward anyways and the driver's lifeless corpse comes into view.
her mouth opens to scream.
"ms. chu?" a voice snaps her back to the present. melia is in the bathroom again, faucet running on full blast; no wreckage, no fires, no image of dohyun's unmoving body bent in odd ways inside a totaled car. the nanny is standing in the doorway holding yeonu, and she meets her disturbed gaze in the mirror. "are you alright, ms. chu?"
she couldn't answer at first, her body still in frozen as she turns her attention back to the reflection. she's pale as a ghost, eyes tinged with red and blood that she hadn't noticed until then trickling down her nose. cursing and grabbing a handful of toilet paper to stop the bleeding, she answers forcefully while fumbling to turn the sink off, "yes, i'm fine! it happens sometimes." grabbing a second wad of toilet paper, melia begins to wipe up the blood that had dripped onto the counter but the nanny stops her.
"you need to go lay down. i'll clean this up."
"but―"
"go. lay. down." the older woman's tone makes her shrinks away and shuffles back down the hall to the master bedroom, hearing her call after, "and change out of that shirt and leave it in the hall! you got blood on it too!"
sure enough, there are bright red splotches dotting the front of the blouse, causing her to curse again. she stops at the vanity mirror and cautiously pulls the paper away from her face. it looks like the bleeding has stopped as quickly as it started, only leaving behind its smears across her lips. she sighs and tosses the soiled wad into the wastebin, then reaches a few more tissues to gently blow her nose with. the pain she felt in her head is now just a normal headache, but it left behind a realization that is even more agonizing.
something is going to happen to him, something bad (she should've said something. she should've stopped this. she could've saved him).
melia isn't sure how much time has passed with her laying numbly in bed. it felt like mere seconds and also eternity at the same time. there's a sudden flash of light, followed by the sound of her phone vibrating against the nightstand. it takes a second for her body to respond to her brain trying to make her arm move, reaching out for the device then frowning when she sees the caller id, "soyi?"
"hayoon! oh my god, it's bad... it's so very bad―"
"what? what's―"
"it's dohyun, there's been a huge wreck! people are hurt and..." his sister's voice fades away and so does everything else. it feels like the wind has been knocked out of her and she can't get enough air in her lungs. all she could do was face the horrors of the same thought over and over again.
⸝⸝ melia constantly emits a small amount of energy. as a conduit for celestial entities, cosmic energy flows through her. for those who have hypersensitivity, it can be felt or heard as a faint vibration or buzzing, or can be seen by a weak, pale yellow glow known as her aura. smell alone will not expose her for having any supernatural abilities— she is still human.
⸝⸝ she draws attention of other psychics― or any being drawn to energies. it feels like a magnet is drawing them together. melia is able to transfer cosmic energy into another to amplify their own powers or heal mental / emotional (sometimes even physical) wounds. this isn't something she can control, or even have a full awareness of, and can be "overuse" by letting too much energy pass through her at once, causing mental stress.
⸝⸝ at the moment, melia can only do very small feats of the supernatural. she has always been aware of having abilities, though she doesn't know the extent. she can make small objects move on their own, pick up on certain emotions or impressions of the past that others may feel which can sometimes seem like she's "reading minds", astral travel, "good" intuition, and what seems to have a connection with bugs: pollinators such as bees and wasps especially. if someone asks nicely, she'll perform one of these acts to entertain them, but doesn't believe they're anything special.
⸝⸝ melia gets visions from the celestials, however, they are not necessarily of the future. rather, they are what the celestials want or are manipulating to happen. she has free will and can go against them, though it can lead to suffering the celestials' wrath for disobedience. she is their priestess and their servant, even while ignoring that part of her as best she can, she is playing her role to carry out their plans.
⸝⸝ melia is restless. it's not particularly distracting for most people, but she is always moving— twirling a pen, fixing her hair, rocking or swaying slightly, always moving. it's not from nerves, though she can be jumpy or skittish at times. call it high perception or easily distracted, even her eyes will dart around constantly.
⸝⸝ that being said, she can get absorbed in things very easily. it could be a book, a task or even a daydream; melia often has her 'head in the clouds' as the saying goes. this makes it easy for her to be startled, clumsy due to lack awareness for her surroundings, especially with tasks that are more autonomous, such as cleaning or driving.
⸝⸝ she is not very imposing. her presence doesn't demand attention or command the room. she moves around quickly and lightly, like a breeze, making it easy to miss her. it's as if she can only be caught from the corner of the eye or as she disappears around the corner. some people might see it as elegant, others may think she's just perpetually keyed up.
⸝⸝ her appearance is effortless, though she does go to lengths to maintain it. not to say she's 'flawless' but she does know herself well enough to be able to throw on a look that will suite her best, even on days where she's tired or in a rush.
⸝⸝ her voice is lower than expected, and is usually very clear and carries. she doesn't mumble (unless she doesn't want you to hear something) or speak softly. while her sentences start of slow and thoughtful, the longer she talks, the faster and more jumbled up her speech can get. due to her job, melia is more accustomed to listening and she pays attention even when she seems distracted. that being said, she is perfectly capable of talking a lot, and will do so if she's allowed.
⸝⸝ though she is fluent in korean, many who are born and raised in her home country are able to tell she's a foreigner rather quickly. it's something in the tone, how she holds her mouth, that gives her away. while speaking in english, she has an irish accent despite living in australia for longer than she was in ireland. don't ask her about that, she is irish and proud.
⸝⸝ she's spoiled and materialistic... at least, that's what it looks like upon first impression. melia has the latest tech, high quality clothing (not always branded but will occasionally put on something from a luxurious one), a big apartment in an upscale area, and a brand new car. her perpetually pouty appearance and polished look can deter people from approaching— what would they have in common with the daughter of one of the wealthiest authors in the world?
⸝⸝ melia is smarter than people think, and she will make sure they're aware of it. she won't brag, won't be condescending, but if she has the chance to flex her knowledge on someone, she will. she plays modest but secretly loves being praised for her intelligence and chases after it as subtly as she possibly can.
content warning: gaslighting, violence, emotional and physical abuse, etc. all the makings of a toxic relationship that would probably be defended by some creep that knows the age of consent in various places off the top of their head.
he was everything she wasn't. the stereotypical brooding, 'bad boy'; complete with an old beat up pickup, four-man rock band and the means to provide alcohol to the underage. he was as much charming as he was unconventional; despite his drab appearance, there was a glimmer in his eyes that was playful, inviting even.
she wasn't immune to it.
"what's your name?" he had asked at the party where they first met― one she had organized. he sounded impressed. the place was packed with happily drunken young adults and yet, none were too rowdy. a group of boys even asked her if they could use the pool table downstairs before running off gleefully when she approved.
"my friends call me mel," she answered, keeping it cool though her heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird within her ribcage. and why wouldn't she be a bit enticed? here she was at seventeen; it had been a year since she was approved to stop attending academy and go on to study independently (possibly because of the countless challenges and corrections faculty receive from her. as if it were her fault they didn't know how to teach), and she excelled on her own― but being so far ahead meant being so alone. this was the only way she could stay connected, the only way people seemed to see her without that look of judgement or annoyance or, worst of all, pity.
"are we friends?" he had asked. she could see the corner of his mouth threatening to lift and it felt like a rush of adrenaline was coursing through her veins. they were pulling together like magnets and she knows he feels it too. she looked up at him coyly and lifts her cup to her lips.
"we could be, if you like,"
"i think i would like that, mel."
────── 〔✿〕 ──────
six months. six months was all it took for isaac to reveal his true nature, and for melia to have enough. what seemed like a gradual buildup, suddenly sent her hurling towards an inevitable end at terrifying speeds. she knew if she didn't get away, she would end up dead. his bandmates made many attempts to placate him when his frustration with melia reached violent levels, only to become collateral damage by his rage.
"do these look like what i fucking asked for, mel?!" he was everything she wasn't; loud and cruel as he towered over her, throwing the bundle of cables in her direction. she hardly had time to raise her hands in front of her face to block, a sting left on her palms when it made contact.
"hey, man. it was just a mistake—" she hears someone say, only to quickly shut up when isaac turns his rage towards them.
"oh, right. she conveniently makes a stupid 'mistake' on the biggest night of our lives—"
"you didn’t tell me which one you needed," she finally speaks, her voice soft and thick with emotion.
isaac's outburst stopped abruptly, turning so that his gaze falls on her once again. that look he gave her felt heavy as lead and cold as ice. she wanted to fold, wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear until his anger passed and he is softly coaxing her back to a false fantasy that he just lost his temper, that he won't do it again...
he took a step closer, jaw clenched, "what did you say?"
"i said," she took a deep but shaky breath, raising her face so she could lock eyes with him. the entire room was silent, still, as if afraid that any sudden movements might shatter the delicate space they were balanced on. "you didn’t tell me which one you needed. i tried to call and text but you weren’t answering so i just picked the one that—"
"jesus christ. i had a million things to do to prep for this show. i don’t have time to hold your fucking hand all day, everyday."
something about his tone, and his eyes… she swears there's a hint of a different emotion in them than just frustration. something close to amusement, like he found it funny to watch her flinch every time he raised his voice. it snaps something inside of her. something that was the last thing holding her together.
“how was i suppose to know you needed something different?!” with every word, her voice became louder, angrier, borderline hysterical. she snatched the bundle of cables off the ground and shoved them roughly into his chest. “i got the one you always use! i know i did, you fucking piece of sh—“
SMACK!
it took a few seconds for melia to comprehend what had happened. she stumbled back a half-step, holding the left side of her face which was now stinging and hot in pain. her eyes are wide and watering, and mouth was hanging open in stunned silence. in contrast, isaac looked completely unfazed, his hand hand back at his side as if he never hit her at all. for a heartbeat, no one dared to move, not even a breath could be heard in that room.
“you need to calm down, mel. you’re acting insane when you’re not even the one whose career is on the line,” he was strangely indifferent in that moment, holding the cables out for her to take back. she numbly takes them without protest. “return these. i’ll send you a picture of the ones we need since you can’t seem to remember simple instructions.” and he took out his phone, mumbling something under his breath.
then, everything goes red.
to this day, she still isn't quite sure how it happened. one second, she was standing, trembling, furiously fighting back tears; the next, she had isaac pinned to the floor, a flurry of punches and scratches being delivered straight to his face. he was, by no means, a small man but she must have caught him by surprise to have taken him down like that— and judging by the way it took the others a minute to jump into action, they had also been shocked by the events that just unfolded in front of them. by the time she was pulled off of him, her hands were firmly circled around his neck, choking him until he was going red. she had gotten him pretty good, bruises already forming in various places and several angry red lines littered across his face. there was even blood trickling from his brow.
“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” she screamed and fought the entire time one of his bandmates dragged her away and out of the room. there was a small sense of satisfaction to see the damage she had left, watching isaac unsteadily picking himself off the floor while the others check on him and she hurled insult after insult at him. he lifts his head and the fight she had died the moment their eyes met.
her blood ran cold, disconcerted by how he watched her get pulled away— like he was pleased by the outcome. like he had won somehow. a wave of nausea suddenly came over her, and he flashes her an almost playful grin just before the door shut in front of her.
content warning : supernatural horror such as uncanny / unearthly descriptions and body horror, child in danger, feeling of hopelessness.
no one talks about how endless the dark is, how it can stretch on for miles and miles when there is no light to gauge what directions are. her feet ache, hands had been scraped up from tripping over... something (it had been too dark to check). her throat feels as if it has been rubbed raw with sandpaper from screaming for someone, anyone. now all she can do is walk aimlessly, blind and voiceless, hoping for a miracle— or for this misery to come to an end. she's terrified neither of those things will happen.
her feet contact the ground with a splash, now cold and wet to the bone. she still can't see, but knows she's standing in water— at least, she hopes it's water... it tastes like dirt and metal, but it didn't matter. she was so, so thirsty...
meeeliiiaaa...
a voice causes her head to snap up, not even daring to breathe as she listens. exhaustion must have finally caught up with her. she's hearing things...
meeeliiiaaa...
there it was again, clearer this time, and almost familiar. she turns her head slowly, straining her eyes to scan the pitch darkness until she sees it. flashlights— no, that isn't it. they are too uniform, too steady as they train their soft glow on her. she squints harder and begins to make out the vague shape of a deer in the darkness.
but she knows that isn't a deer.
it has too many eyes, too many legs, too branches reaching through the dark from its antlers. meeeliaaa... she realizes the sound was coming from its mouth, but it moves out of sync and sounds like her father in all the wrong ways. meeeliaaa... it calls once more, a faint clicking sound heard as its jaw moves, before turning to step into the darkness.
the rational part of her brain is telling her to be afraid, sensing something very wrong with what she just witnessed. but there's an urge, deeper, instinctual, and it is tugging her in the direction the deer had went. she doesn't stop her feet from carrying her forward one painful step at a time. as she walks, she can still hear that voice calling her name; familiar, yet so foreign. it feels like she has been walking for hours again. she hadn't realized she had been crying until she chokes on a guttural sob.
"please... i'm so tired..." she speaks in a hoarse whisper to no one in particular, or maybe just anyone or anything that would listen to the pleas of a little girl. "i just want to see my dad. i just want to—" she trails off when her hand comes in contact with something warm and rough, rising and falling steading under her palm.
meeeliiiaaa... she hears it too close, right by her ear this time, almost drowned out by the thunderous sound of blood pounding in her ears. it had its head turned slightly so it could see her with one of its many glowing eyes, then turns forward once again. that's when she looks past it and sees light, actual light, and the sound of her dad's voice calling into the darkness. she's going to be okay.
her steps are unsteady at first, stumbling on rocks and branches as she walks forward. then she picks up the pace, faster and faster, until she is almost in a full sprint. she doesn't look back.
something tells her not to.
once she pushes her self past the tree line, with the last bit of the energy she can muster up, she cries out, "DADDY!" before collapsing in wet grass, yards away from houses and life. she can see silhouettes of people running towards her as vision grows dark; her father's voice— warm, frantic and alive— yelling for her to hold on. the image of what she saw in the forest is the last thing she thinks of before slipping out of consciousness, a strange feeling of gratefulness and safety found from knowing something had been watching over her.
