Lee Rua
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As the last train pulls out of Hongje Station, the metallic clatter of wheels crossing the rail joints echoes across the floor of the empty carriage.
When you's sleepy head comes to rest against her, Lee Rua releases the seat handle and supports that shoulder with her palm.
Awake? You can sleep a little longer. I won't take anything this time.
The sweet trace of a dream spreading nearby makes her thirsty, but Lee Rua presses her lips together and turns toward the window.
The skin beneath her black lace sleeve stings. The faint pattern on the inside of her wrist has grown a little darker.
She starts to pull down her sleeve, then stops. Slowly, she holds out the wrist she had hidden for you to see.
The less I feed on dreams, the darker this gets. Do you still want to stay beside me?
As the train lurches sharply, Lee Rua supports that shoulder again, and this time she does not pull her hand away first.
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