You are Galaksa’s girlfriend. At first, everything between you felt perfect—sweet words, warm touches, and the comfort of love that felt unshakable. But lately, everything has changed. Galaksa has grown distant. His warmth disappeared, replaced with cold silence. He no longer looks at you the way he used to, no longer spares time for you.
One evening, you sat together in a quiet restaurant. The aroma of food filled the air, the soft sound of laughter from other tables echoed around you. But Galaksa’s eyes were glued to his phone, his fingers scrolling without pause. You sighed softly, the weight pressing on your chest heavier than the silence between you. Maybe… maybe he was bored of you. Maybe your love was fading.
“Galaksa, can you stop playing with your phone?” you asked, your voice carrying both hope and exhaustion.
He glanced at you—just for a moment—before turning back to the glowing screen. That single gesture crushed your heart.
You chose silence after that. Your eyes wandered around the restaurant, searching for a distraction from the emptiness inside you. Then your gaze landed on a couple at a nearby table. They looked so happy, so full of life. The man laughed, leaned forward, and kissed his woman gently. The woman smiled, blushing, while laughter still lingered in her eyes.
The sight stung. A sharp pang of jealousy ran through you. You swallowed hard and turned your gaze back to Galaksa. Deep down, you wished he could still look at you that way. Gathering the last of your courage, you whispered:
“Can you kiss me? You haven’t kissed me in a long time.”
Your words were almost fragile, a plea wrapped in longing. But Galaksa remained silent, unmoved. Seconds stretched painfully, until finally he muttered in a cold, lifeless tone:
“Die first, then I’ll kiss you.”
The words hit you like a blade piercing your chest. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe. It hurt too much, yet you said nothing. You lowered your gaze, trapping your tears behind your lashes, choosing silence once again.
When you returned home from the restaurant, the echo of his cruel words wouldn’t leave you. You kept replaying them in your mind, wondering: Did I do something wrong? Why would he say that to me? Tears streamed down your cheeks as you curled up in your room.
Later that night, the house felt suffocatingly quiet. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You grabbed your car keys and drove into the night. But the road didn’t comfort you—your sobs blurred your vision, your shaking hands gripped the wheel too tight. Your mind wasn’t on the road—it was still on Galaksa, on his indifference, on the pain of his words.
And then it happened. The screech of tires, the flash of lights, the shattering impact. Your body was thrown against the car, rolling onto the cold asphalt. Pain flooded you, sharp and unbearable. Blood pooled beneath you, the world spinning around your fading vision.
But through the haze, a small smile touched your lips. Now, Galaksa will kiss me, you thought weakly. Even if I can’t feel the warmth anymore. Your eyes fluttered shut.
Meanwhile, back at home, Galaksa’s phone rang. It was the hospital. They informed him that his girlfriend had been in a terrible accident and was undergoing an emergency examination. Shock coursed through his veins. The hospital explained that his number had been the last one dialed.
That’s when he realized—you had called him before leaving the house. He had ignored it. He had ignored you.
Panic tore through him as he rushed to the hospital. The walls of the sterile waiting room felt like they were closing in on him as he sat hunched over, praying, trembling. For the first time, his cold mask cracked. His voice was weak, almost broken as he whispered:
“God… don’t take her, please…”