I don't know how long I slept, but I woke to a thunderous crash at the door.
Before I could even orient myself, the door exploded against the wall.
There stood Alice, staggering into the apartment—until she collapsed to her knees, her hands desperately trying to stem the blood gushing from her torn abdomen.
My eyes widened at the sight.
Alice lifted her gaze and reached out a trembling left hand toward me.
Tears streamed down her pale face.
— "A-Alan…"
Her body hit the floor.
Life had left her before she even touched the ground.
— "…"
I jolted awake, my heart pounding.
My eyes darted around the room in panic.
The space was clean, bright.
Alice, standing in the kitchen, looked at me in confusion.
— "What's wrong, Alan?"
I'd shot up so fast I forgot about the wretched state of my body.
"Was it a dream?"
But… it felt so real.
— "Alan, are you okay? You're pale… Are you still in a lot of pain?"
I stared at her and moved closer.
It was as if I hadn't seen her in decades.
Without realizing it, tears spilled from my eyes as I pulled her into a hug.
She hesitated, then returned the embrace with gentle confusion.
I didn't understand this suffocating anguish eating at me.
But I didn't want the moment to end.
— "Can you shower on your own?"
— "…Yeah."
— "Good. By the time you're done, food will be ready."
— "…Okay."
I headed to the bathroom.
Before entering, I glanced back at Alice, who smiled as she cooked.
Under the shower, I realized something inside me had shifted.
That scene—the nightmare of Alice dying—felt so real I couldn't tell if I was still dreaming or awake.
I turned off the water and dried myself.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw the bruises covering my body.
I felt pathetic.
My light-blue eyes narrowed… and flickered gold.
— "Huh?!"
Startled, I stumbled back.
I looked again, but nothing happened.
— "They must've hit my head harder than I thought."
I sighed and stepped out.
After dressing in clean clothes, I walked to the kitchen.
Alice stood beside the table, now laden with food.
Despite everything that had happened, she acted normally—more animated than I'd seen her in ages.
— "It smells amazing."
— "Really?! Don't lie to me."
— "I'd never lie to you."
— "Hmm… Good to hear. Sit down—I'll serve you!"
She grinned, bustling with energy as she dished out the meal.
It wasn't just the aroma or the presentation—the taste was incredible.
— "I didn't know your cooking had gotten this good."
— "I've been practicing. Your diet's been terrible—I wanted to make something healthy while I'm here."
— "Sorry. I'm barely home. School by day, work at night… It's hard to eat well like this."
After kicking me out, my parents only covered my school and hotel expenses.
Everything else? I scraped by with part-time jobs.
Alice's smile faltered when I reminded her of that.
— "…Sit here. Eat with me."
Alice brightened, tucking her hair behind her ears as she took the seat beside me.
— "Alice…"
— "Yeah?"
— "I was thinking… What if we spent this weekend together?"
Alice's eyes widened in shock.
After all, for years, I'd been painfully shy and fearful.
Even with her, despite our bond, I never initiated time together.
I always relied on her to take the first step.
The irony was bitter—she was leagues above me.
My parents and so-called "classmates" had spent years drilling into me that I wasn't worthy of anyone's company.
Least of all Alice's.
A lifetime of systematic humiliation taught me to quit before even trying.
But since waking from that cursed dream… something in me had changed.
— "Yes, yes, yes! I'd love that!"
Her euphoric reply caught me off guard.
Why did something so simple make her this radiant?
Yet her joy was contagious—I found myself smiling too.
After the meal, Alice washed the dishes while I dried and put them away.
— "Tomorrow's dinner is on you. It's been forever since I've had your cooking."
— "Alright. I'll grab ingredients after school."
— "Mhmm!"
She beamed, teeth flashing.
Alice turned off the faucet and handed me the last plate.
— "Well… I'm gonna shower now."
— "Towels are in the closet, and there's probably some of your clothes in there too."
— "Got it."
Once everything was put away, I returned to the bedroom.
I flopped onto the bed, grabbed my phone, and turned on the TV.
["—There's no cause for alarm."]
I was scrolling when the news report snagged my attention.
On screen, a journalist interviewed a scientist.
["—But Doctor, aren't seismic activities dangerous?"]
["—Only depending on magnitude and epicenter depth. Below 2.0 on the Richter scale, they're imperceptible micro-tremors."]
["—So you're saying these global events aren't concerning?"]
["—Technically, the simultaneity is unusual, but the low magnitude (1.0 to 1.5) is negligible. This was extremely rare—recurrence odds are 0.007%. Our seismographs detected it, but the vibrations were weaker than a cell phone's. No human could've felt it. Did you feel anything?"]
["—No, sir."]
["—Exactly. We disclosed it for transparency, but seismologically, it's irrelevant."]
My eyes narrowed.
A crushing sense of déjà vu washed over me.
— "Why does this feel like I've heard this exact thing before?"
— "Wow, the water was perfect!"
Alice strode in, towel-drying her hair, wearing nothing but one of my shirts as pajamas.
This wasn't new.
She always stole my clothes, even with her own wardrobe here.
Her gaze landed on the TV.
— "Huh? They're still talking about this?"
— "You know something?"
— "Wait, you haven't heard?"
She hung the towel on the rack and perched on the computer chair, legs crossed.
As she plugged in the hairdryer, she added: "It's been all over the news all week. They debated it nonstop at the conference in Germany."
The dryer's roar filled the room as she worked on her hair.
She raised her voice over the noise: "Apparently, simultaneous seismic waves hit the entire planet. Some scientists said they only registered because the Earth literally shook as a whole."
— "You mean… the entire planet?"
— "Yep."
That déjà vu returned, a chill crawling up my neck.
— "...Alan?"
— "Hm?"
Alice clicked off the dryer.
— "You okay?"
Her eyes narrowed with concern.
— "I'm fine."
She tied her hair into a ponytail and snatched the remote, turning off the TV.
— "Enough of that for tonight."
She declared, tossing the remote aside.
With feline grace, she kneeled on the bed and crawled toward me.
Before I could react, her hands slid over my chest, followed by a gentle push that made me sink into the mattress.
In a blink, her warmth settled atop me.
— "Let's sleep."
— "Alright."
I set my phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp.
In the dark, her voice was soft:
— "Alan…"
— "Yeah?"
— "I love you."
— "Love you too."
Even in the shadows, I felt her smile—like radiant heat—and, without meaning to, my lips curved in answer.