Chapter I. Angel in Disguise

My heart is bleeding.

For three years now, I have been acting in this manner, isolating myself from others and choosing to stay alone in my empty room.

"Hina, darling, dinner will be ready in five minutes. Are you sure you don't want to join us?" I heard my mom's voice from outside of my room, accompanied by a soft knock on the door.

As I looked at the door, a lingering curiosity nagged at me. Why did I have this inexplicable urge to open it?

I couldn't recall the last time I had shared a meal with my family. Since the day he passed away, the thought of eating with others, even my own family, had become unappealing. The desire to starve myself had consumed me. No, I had already begun starving myself. I actively avoided consuming anything, hoping to slowly deteriorate and fade away unnoticed, like a silent demise.

Yet, each time I engaged in self-destructive behavior, a mysterious stranger would appear in my dreams.

"Okay... I won't ask again, but please, just take a moment to think about our feelings. We've missed you so much..." I could hear the strain in her gentle voice, on the verge of breaking. I knew she was about to cry.

I heard footsteps... gradually fading into nothingness. And then, it disappeared completely. Clinging to my knees, I knew this was my final moment before surrendering to the floor, wrapping myself in a thick blanket. Excessive darkness may blind others, but it didn't bother me. I reveled in it. I cherished the sensation of solitude.

Within this vacant room, there was only me and the comforting embrace of the thick blanket, keeping me warm.

Finally, I shut my eyes.

"Hina..."

A voice, familiar and comforting, whispered my name. My heart leapt with joy upon hearing it once again. This scene felt incredibly nostalgic.

As I opened my eyes, a single question consumed my thoughts: Where am I? The previously dark and empty room had transformed into something entirely different. Now, I found myself standing amidst a field of vibrant yellow roses, with clouds seemingly within reach overhead... or perhaps it was the misty atmosphere creating an illusion? The air carried a beautiful blend of fragrances, a mixture of yellow roses and an ethereal sweetness.

Confusion and a strange sense of fulfillment knitted my brows together. I couldn't bring myself to accept that I had encountered this same scenario before.

Again and again, whenever I put myself in harm's way, this is where I end up. It could only mean one thing: He was the one who had called me, the enigmatic stranger who frequents my dreams.

Surveying my surroundings like a bewildered puppy, I anxiously searched for an exit.

"I'm afraid you'll do something... again, this time." A deep yet gentle voice resonated in my ear. I pivoted, and there stood a tall and handsome man, his sweet smile lighting up the room.

He towered above me, akin to a sturdy oak tree. Medium-length, charcoal-black hair framed his face, while his skin appeared as soft and delicate as a wisp of cloud. His eyes held a sparkling allure, like precious gems begging to be discovered.

But it was his lips that captivated me, resembling a luscious red apple. They looked irresistibly soft and temptingly red.

He seemed like a divine being, as if God had specially chosen him for me. A breathtaking angel in human form. Though I had encountered him before, it was only now that I allowed myself to truly appreciate his captivating features. In a literal sense, he didn't resemble the traditional depiction of an angel. He wasn't dressed in white robes, nor did he possess any wings. Instead, he sported an oversized black t-shirt and black pants.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly, concern evident in his voice. "I mean, your back. You don't have any support and you sleep on the floor." I couldn't help but notice that even his voice possessed a charming quality that made my heart flutter. I refused to deceive myself about the effect he had on me.

"No, it doesn't hurt," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

In one swift motion, he enveloped me in his left arm, drawing me closer. Suppressing a moan caused by the pain his touch stirred within me, I bit my lower lip.

"It does," he stated simply before releasing his hold on me.

A wave of pleasure tingled through my skin as his touch met mine, causing a shiver to run down my spine. I couldn't help but recall that I had never actually conversed with him since the day I first laid eyes on him. I had simply assumed he was a stranger who enjoyed bothering me.

"I don't enjoy bothering you," he stated directly, his tone casual yet playful.

What?

"I... I never said that," I stammered, realizing that I had only thought it in my mind. How could he possibly know?

"A stunning girl is unknowingly telling me falsehoods, unaware that I possess the ability to read her thoughts." He appeared to be engaged in conversation with someone else, causing me to survey the surroundings and discover that he was actually speaking to nobody. And what exactly did I just hear?

"You're talking nonsense."

That's absurd. Reading minds is only found in literature. It's fictional. Perhaps occasionally it occurs in reality, but only among those who are exceptionally talented and gifted.

"I cannot claim superiority nor giftedness because I am nothing," he stated, a smile spreading across his lips. Shocked and disbelieving, my jaw dropped as if a heavy weight had fallen on my head. The words echoed in my mind, leaving me wondering if they held any truth.

"You..." I exclaimed, pointing my finger at him. "...can actually read my mind!"

It turns out, this phenomenon truly exists in the real world.

"Oh, I apologize. I didn't mean to pry into your thoughts, but it's part of my job." Job? Does that imply he is my guardian angel? But he doesn't quite resemble one.

"Are you my guardian angel?" I inquired, curious to know.

"I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "But I do know that I have to ensure your safety."

"No one is trying to harm me. There's no need for you to do that."

"I am obliged to protect you from yourself," he stated.

That statement struck me deeply. Constantly contemplating suicide feels like a series of mistakes I make. All I truly desire is to find solace and peace—perhaps that's why death seems appealing.

My gaze met his, and his eyes were locked onto mine. Overwhelmed, I quickly averted my gaze. Those eyes held a power over me; I couldn't bear to look into them.

Then it occurred to me that this stranger only appears in my dreams when I entertain thoughts of self-harm. Strangely enough, I realize that I never take any action before closing my eyes.

"I didn't do anything, yet why am I dreaming about you?"

"I just wanted to have a conversation with you."

"About what?"

"Just a casual chat, that's all," he replied, taking a step closer. "You were consumed by your sadness and guilt, and I never had the opportunity to talk to you. I couldn't bear seeing an innocent girl cry."

Exactly. He could sense my thoughts and understand the pain hidden within me—he knew the struggles I tried to conceal.

I felt my head bow down as memories of what happened three years ago flooded back. The pain in my heart resurfaced, aching as if struck by thunder. It was suffocating, tearing me apart, making me feel lifeless. The tears were welling up when a gentle hand touched my cheek. He lifted my gaze towards him, giving me a warm, comforting smile. He always has that contagious smile. It's bittersweet because it stirs my heart and yet, I can't help but feel like I'm betraying Samuel.

"I won't shed tears in the presence of a stranger," I said, gently removing his hand from my cheek.

He bit his lower lip and took a step back, placing a hand on his back while maintaining a smile.

"All I really wanted was to hear your voice, to have a conversation with you. And now that it's actually happening, my heart is racing," the handsome stranger shared with me. I could see the genuine excitement in his eyes, although I knew he was trying to mask it.

But there was no reason for him to be so thrilled. Engaging in conversation with me held no significance.

And before I knew it, he presented me with a yellow rose. I hadn't even seen him pick it, but I graciously accepted the flower and breathed in its sweet fragrance.

"Can I see you again, Hina?" he asked, his words pulling me back to reality. But as I looked up, he vanished. Everything vanished. The darkness engulfed my soul as I opened my eyes, returning me to the harshness of reality.

A tinge of disappointment washed over me at the realization that he was not real. It seemed that Galen was just a creation of my imagination.

Galen. Such a strong, evocative name. I wonder if he will reappear the next time I close my eyes.