4 days before spring ended
That night.
In the kitchen, water ran through the tap.
Leyla was washing her plate,
yet her mind wandered, thinking of Ronan.
The memory of them.
The question Ronan kept asking her.
"Who were you talking to at my café?"
Then, suddenly.
the water grew cold like ice.
"Och..." she gasped, snapping out of her thoughts.
She took a cup, filled it with water, and turned off the tap.
Before she could drink it, the doorbell rang.
"Who?" she murmured.
She peeked through the hole.
but saw no one.
Who could it be? A parcel?
She thought.
Then She opened the door.
Looked down. nothing.
Then her eyes lifted.
And met another's.
Cherry eyes. Silver hair.
Blood-red lips.
Beautiful... yet haunting.
It was Silva.
She smiled.
Leyla froze. "Who—?"
Cold crept down her spine.
Silva's lips parted.
"My name is Silva.
And I have something to tell you."
Her eyes glowed.
She pulled Leyla into a memory.
Leyla was five years old.
Running, trying to reach her father's hands.
On a train.
A gunshot rang out.
The bullet pierced her heart.
She fell.
Covered in blood.
Leyla's heart stopped.
"W-what was that?" she asked.
Voice shaking.
A soft voice answered.
"That is me. My memory.
There's a world after death.
I am dead.
And I can control memories... day and time."
Her eyes dimmed again.
Then she asked,
"Leyla, what if I told you...
you had fallen in love with the dead?"
Leyla didn't know.
Yet somehow,
that line struck something deep.
"You see..."
Her red eyes glowed again.
Leyla saw him.
Lucian.
At first glance, she didn't recognize him.
But her heart did.
"Lucian," Silva whispered.
"I want you to stay away from him.
He doesn't belong in your world anymore.
And you...
don't belong in the afterlife.
Unless you want to join us..."
She reached out her hand.
"Come to me, so you can be with him.
Or stay here among the living...
and forget everything."
Leyla stepped back.
Terrified.
"Why would you do that?"
"Love," Silva said.
Her chin lifted.
"Because I love him.
Yet he never sees me.
Because of you.
And because of you...
he might turn into a demon."
"No!" Leyla snapped.
"You can't take my memory!"
Then, in a flash,
Silva's eyes glowed.
She glided toward Leyla.
"I didn't ask!"
Leyla stepped back.
nowhere to run.
Then she threw the glass she was holding,
her hand trembling in terror.
The glass shattered to the floor.
small pieces flying
like a sprinkler.
For Silva,
it felt like being made of spiderweb.
and a needle dragged through her.
Her whole body pulled,
her soul unraveling thread by thread.
Her body began to fade.
To deform.
Leyla, without hesitation,
grabbed another handful of pieces glass on the floor,
and hurled it. "Go away" she screamed.
Silva turned smoky gray...
and retreated.
Leyla slammed the door.
Then looked at her hands.
Bleeding.
Shaking.
Terrified.
She cried...
Back at the café.
Ronan locked the door.
Suddenly, like a gust of wind,
something swept through him,
into the café.
"Wait, what...?" he whispered.
He felt it.
But before he could open the door again,
his phone rang.
He picked it up.
"Leyla?"
For a few seconds,
he only heard her cry.
Then
"Ronan... I'm scared..."
His heart dropped.
"I'm coming to your apartment."
When he arrived,
the elevator stopped at Level 24.
The doors opened.
He stepped out.
onto broken glass.
He looked down, frowning...
but brushed it off.
The closer he got to her unit,
the more shattered glass he saw.
"What's going on here?"
At first, he thought it might be a robbery.
Or a stalker.
He rang the bell.
"Leyla, it's me," he said,
just loud enough for her to know it was him.
Then, she opened the door.
Quickly.
She looked like a mess.
Blood on her hands,
smearing the floor.
Barefoot.
Stepping on glass.
She rushed into his arms.
"Leyla!" he gasped, shocked.
But he held her.
Comforted her.
"Yeah... I'm here.
I'm here," he whispered.
Steady and calm.
Leyla sobbed.
"You're Ronan, right?!
I still remember, right?!
It is you, right?!"
"Yes. I'm Ronan."
Intrigued...
he studied her.
Something was wrong.
Then,
a small smile curled
at the corner of his lips.
He led her to the couch.
Tended to her wounds.
Her hands.
Her feet.
He removed the glass
carefully.
Then brought her coffee.
"Lucky you had ingredients in your kitchen,"
he said softly.
"So I got to make you this."
Then, slowly,
he bandaged her hands.
"I called your work for tomorrow,"
he said gently.
"So you don't need to go in."
Leyla nodded.
Then,
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
Her eyes stayed glued
to their joined hands.
"I..."
Then she began to speak.
Slowly.
Her voice trembling.
As she spoke,
it was as if she was reliving it.
Ronan listened.
Quiet.
Intrigued.
"I see... so they're real," he murmured.
"Yes," she replied,
as if pleading.
"She wants my memory.
Or... death."
Then, Ronan hugged her.
"Hey... from now on,
you stay with me.
I'll protect you.
You're safe..."
Back at the café.
Silva's soul flickered faintly.
She sat on the table,
trying to calm herself.
Then.
Lucian entered.
Slow.
Heavy.
He sat beside her,
but didn't look at her.
"Who did this to you?" he asked.
His voice low, serious.
Only his eyes turned to her,
eyes full of death.
Silva whispered.
"...Leyla."
Lucian flinched.
"What have you done?" he asked.
Not What did Leyla do to you?
But What have YOU done?
Silva murmured,
but no words came out.
Lucian stood.
Grabbed her face.
Looked into her eyes.
"Show me."
He tightened his grip.
"I... can't."
Lucian's eyes darkened.
"Then die."
He glanced at the counter.
where Ronan kept all his bottles.
Silva finally confessed,
"Her eyes glowed...
She showed him everything."
Lucian froze.
"Love?" he whispered.
Then, without another word
he vanished.
When Lucian reached her apartment,
he saw her.
Leyla.
Sitting silently.
Looking out the window.
Then.
"Leyla," he called softly.
She turned.
But not to him.
Her eyes followed Ronan,
as he moved past Lucian.
phasing through his ghostly body.
Lucian stood still.
Her eyes never met his.
She only saw Ronan.
He froze.
Then
"Tck..."
He looked away.
No matter what happens...
Silva was right.
And just like that...
the night faded.
To be continued...
4 days before spring ended.
That night.
In a kitchen, water ran through a tap,
Leyla was washing her plate.
Yet her mind wandered around, thinking of Ronan.
The memory of them.
The question Ronan kept asking her.
"Who are you talking to at my café?"
Then. Suddenly.
The water grew cold like ice.
"Och..." she gasped, snapped out of reality.
Then she took a cup, filled it with water, and turned off the tap.
Before she could drink it, the doorbell rang.
"Who?" she wondered.
She tried to peek through the hole but she couldn't see anyone.
Who could it be?
A parcel?
She thought someone might have dropped off a parcel and left.
Then she opened it.
Looked down. Empty.
Then her eyes drifted in front of her.
Her eyes met hers.
Cherry eyes. Silver hair.
Blood-red lips. Beautiful yet haunting.
It was... Silva.
She smiled
Leyla froze. "Who—?" Cold ran down her skin.
Then Silva's lips parted.
"My name is Silva.
And I have something to tell you."
Then her eyes glowed.
She took her back. To her memory.
When she was five years old.
Tried to run. Tried to reach her father's hands.
On a train. Yet. A gun shot her.
The bullet went to her heart.
She dropped down.
Covered in blood...
Leyla's heart stopped.
"W-what was that?" she asked.
Voice shaking. Terrified.
Then a soft voice.
"That is me. That is my memory.
There's a world after death.
I am dead. And I have an ability to control memories.
Day and time." Her eyes stopped glowing.
Then she asked again.
"Leyla. What if I say... you had fallen in love with the dead?"
Leyla had no idea. Yet somehow.
That line hit close to her heart.
"You see..." then her red eyes glowed again.
Leyla saw it. She saw him. Lucian.
At first glance, she didn't know who.
But her heart recognized him.
"Lucian," Silva said.
"I want you to stay away from him.
He doesn't belong to your world anymore.
And you... don't belong in the afterlife.
Unless you want to join us..."
She extended her hand toward Leyla.
"Come to me... so you can be together with him.
Or... just stay here among the living.
And forget all your memories."
Leyla was shocked, terrified.
"Why would you do that?"
"Love..." Silva said.
Chin higher.
"Because I love him.
Yet he never sees me. Because of you.
And because of you... he might turn into a demon."
"No!" Leyla said in anger.
"You can't take my memory!"
Then, in a split second,
Silva's eyes glowed and she glided toward Leyla.
"I didn't ask!"
Leyla stepped back.
But she had nowhere to run.
Then Leyla threw the glass she was holding,
her hand trembling in terror.
The glass shattered—
small pieces flying around
like a sprinkler.
For Silva,
it felt like being made of spiderweb—
and a needle dragged through her.
Her whole body pulled,
her soul unraveling thread by thread.
Her body began to fade, deform.
Then Leyla saw it.
Without hesitation,
she grabbed a handful of glass. She threw it at her.
Silva turned smoky gray
and retreated.
Leyla slammed the door immediately.
Then she looked at her hands.
Bleeding... painful, terrified, she cried...
Then, outside the coffee shop, Ronan locked the door.
Suddenly, like a gust of wind pushing through him. something swept into the café.
"Wait, what...?" he whispered.
He felt it.
But before he could open the door again,
his phone rang in his pocket.
He picked it up.
"Leyla?"
For a few seconds,
he just listened to her cry.
Then, she said.
"Ronan... I'm scared..."
Ronan's heart slowed.
"I'm coming to your apartment..."
When he arrived,
the elevator stopped at Level 24.
The doors opened.
He stepped out,
his foot landed on broken glass.
He looked down, frowning,
but brushed it off.
The closer he got to her unit,
the more shattered glass there was on the floor.
"What's going on here?"
At first, he thought it was just a theft.
Or maybe a stalker.
He rang the bell.
"Leyla, it's me," he said,
making sure she recognized his voice.
Then, she opened the door.
quickly.
She looked like a mess.
Blood on her hands,
smearing the floor.
Barefoot, stepping on broken glass.
She rushed into his arms.
"Leyla!" he gasped, shocked.
Yet he held her tightly.
Comforting her.
"Yeah... I'm here.
I'm here," he whispered,
steady and calm.
Leyla sobbed.
"You're Ronan, right?!
I still remember right?!
It is you, right?!"
"Yes. I'm Ronan."
Intrigued...
he studied her.
What was going on?
He didn't know yet.
Then. a small smile curled at the corner of his lips.
Soon, he led her to the couch.
He tended to her wounds.
Her hands.
Her feet.
He carefully removed the glass.
Then brought her a cup of coffee.
"Lucky you had ingredients in your kitchen,"
he said with a soft grin.
"So I got to make you this."
Then, slowly,
he bandaged her hands.
"I called your work for tomorrow,"
Ronan reminded her gently.
"So you don't need to go in."
Leyla just nodded.
Then, softly, he asked,
"What happened?"
"Do you want to tell me?"
Leyla's eyes stayed glued
to their joined hands.
"I..."
Then she began to explain.
Slowly.
Her voice trembling.
As she spoke,
it was as if she was there again,
in that moment.
Ronan just listened, intrigued.
"I see... So they're real..." he murmured.
"Yes," Leyla replied,
as if pleading.
"She wants my memory.
Or... death." she added softly.
Then, Ronan hugged her.
"Hey... from now on,
you stay with me.
I'll protect you.
You're safe..."
Back at the café.
Silva's soul flickered faintly.
She sat on top of the table,
trying to calm herself.
Then,
Lucian entered sluggishly,
sat beside her,
never once looking her way.
"Who did this to you?" he asked.
His voice was serious.
Only his eyes turned toward her.
eyes that carried a deathly expression.
Silva whispered,
"...Leyla."
Lucian flinched at that name.
"What have you done?" he said.
Not 'What did Leyla do to you?'
But 'What have YOU done?'
Silva's voice was low, murmured,
yet not a single word fully formed.
Lucian stood.
He grabbed her face with his hands,
eyes locked to hers.
"Show me."
His hands gripped tighter.
"I... can't."
Lucian's eyes darkened, full of fury.
"Then die."
His gaze drifted toward the counter,
where Ronan kept all his bottles.
Then Silva confessed.
"Her eyes glowed...
She showed him everything."
Lucian froze. "Love?" He asked voice low.
Then, without any words.
he vanished.
Rushing to her house.
But when Lucian arrived her apartment...
he saw her. Leyla.
Sitting silently.
Looking out the window.
Then.
"Leyla," Lucian said softly.
Leyla turned,
but not to him. Behind him.
Her eyes followed Ronan
as he moved past Lucian's body.
phasing right through him.
Lucian stood still.
Leyla's gaze never once met his.
She only saw Ronan.
He froze.
Then… "Tck..."
He look away.
No matter what happens...
Silva was right.
And just like that...
the night faded.
To be continued...