The cream-colored accent of the well-polished walls gleamed with quiet delight, reflecting the soft morning light that streamed in through the pristine white curtains. That gentle glow bathed the room in warmth, spreading across every surface like a lover's touch. The space was awash in soft hues of cream and beige—two colors that seemed to battle for dominance, and yet somehow managed to complement one another in perfect harmony.
At the center of the room stood a singular, elegant canopy bed, immediately drawing the eye and commanding reverence like a throne. Upon closer inspection, the delicate carvings on its frame suggested it belonged in a palace—an heirloom, perhaps, or a national treasure. Nestled within its embrace lay a form that seemed sculpted by the divine. Her skin, like milk kissed by moonlight, peeked from beneath silk pajamas and was further cradled by cotton bedding that looked too pure to touch. Her snow-white hair spilled across the pillow in soft, tangled waves, forming a luminous halo around her head, as though the bed cradled not a girl, but something ethereal.
Her features were refined, poised. A heart-shaped bow defined her lips, while thick, dark lashes fanned over cheeks dusted with tiny freckles that sat like whispered constellations beneath her eyes. It didn't detract from her beauty—it enhanced it. Gave her a wild, uncatchable quality. She looked like a dream you'd wake up mourning.
The figure stirred.
Slowly, almost cautiously, she pushed herself upright. Her long, platinum-blonde hair tumbled down her back like a waterfall, catching the light with every movement. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing irises of pale gray—soft, piercing, curious. She scanned the room with cautious wonder.
"Where... am I?" she murmured groggily, her voice thick with sleep. There was a vulnerability to it—like something raw, newly born.
Rubbing her eyes, she looked down at her own arms. Her skin, which had once held a caramel warmth, now looked like snow tinged with sunlight. She blinked in disbelief.
Am I dreaming?
She rose from the bed, bare feet meeting the plush cream carpet. The room around her was foreign, opulent, unreal. It looked like something pulled straight from a fairy tale—a princess's chamber. The bed, the sheer curtains, the ornate vanity cluttered with beauty products—it all shimmered with delicate luxury.
"Where is this place?" she thought, spinning slowly to take it all in. "I don't remember falling asleep here... or being white?"
Her hands ran over the silken nightdress she wore—soft, expensive, unfamiliar.
"What is this? Whose body is this?" she whispered.
Panic buzzed faintly at the edges of her thoughts, but before she could spiral, it hit her—a rush of memory, uninvited and cruel.
---
A young woman dragging a suitcase behind her, exhausted from travel. Her back ached, her heart light with anticipation. Her apartment—their apartment—came into view, and a smile tugged at her lips. She was going to surprise him. Her fiancé. The man she was meant to marry soon, tied together by tradition and love.
She had dropped her luggage and kicked off her shoes at the door. Quietly, she'd moved toward the bedroom, planning to slip in and surprise him, already imagining the warmth of his embrace, the silly laugh he gave when caught off guard.
But then—noises.
Soft, rhythmic.
She paused.
Feminine moans.
Confusion stabbed at her first. Then horror. Then silence. She edged the door open, just a crack.
"God, your dick feels like magic."
"But you like that, don't you?"
"Nn-egh—"
Her heart dropped. She stood frozen, barely breathing. Her fiancé of six years—her person—lay tangled in their sheets with someone else. On their bed. The one where they'd planned a future, whispered secrets, dreamed.
Everything collapsed.
She turned, stumbled backward, breath catching like a noose in her throat. She couldn't stay. Couldn't breathe. The walls of the apartment closed in, their happy memories turned rancid. With tears blurring her vision, she ran barefoot into the rain, the pavement cold against her feet.
She ran like the pain could be outrun.
Rain mixed with tears, drenching her skin and soul.
"I can't breathe," she cried into the storm. "Why did you do this to me?"
No answer but thunder.
"I loved you." Her voice cracked, lost beneath the storm's roar.
She wandered into the street, dazed, vision swimming, the city lights smeared like watercolor.
And then—
Blinding headlights.
A screech of tires.
Too late.
Pain, then darkness.
"I died."