Chapter Text
It's dark.
The scent comes first, tickling my mind, struggling to trigger a memory. It smells like the woods, sweetness, rain. Blood.
Sleep begins to seep away from my brain, reality filling my space like shallow waves washing over me, the present quickly getting deeper. I'm now aware of movement, of my head leaned against a cold window, shadows of trees flying by in the night. My hair sticking to my face, mouth dry. The hum and vibration of the car tries to drag me back into the dark, but a voice slices through the monotone. Singing. A beautiful voice, the slightest bit husky. There's quiet music below it - a radio. A car radio. I'm awake.
It takes effort to turn my head. The voice is coming from the driver, his form slowly developing definition as my eyes cleared. Curly dark hair, longish; a thick red scarf, black jacket, jeans. He's strangely handsome - not classically, but his smile when he sees that I'm awake changes everything. It's genuine, and he's heartwrenchingly beautiful, with dimples and sparkling eyes that curve into darling crescents when he smiles. I'm sleepily surprised by the light that comes from him, the calm, the comfort... it's warm with him. I feel safe. His hand is softly rubbing my knee. He's just driving, still singing along with the radio. It feels like it's been happening for a long time.
I have no idea who he is. So there's that.
I sit up from my uncomfortable position leaning against the car door. My muscles are so sore. I'm trying to figure out where to land, emotionally. I'm not afraid, just confused. I have no idea who I am, either.
He notices me. "Hi sleepyhead. Did you have a good nap?" The driver's voice is cheerful, and he glances at me again with that smile before returning his eyes to the road. When I don't respond, his face switches from peaceful to worried. His hand on my knee grips a little tighter, shakes my leg gently. "Are you okay, baby?"
I'm silent because I don't know what to say. I'm trying to process what's happening, but I have no reference points. I know I'm in a car, I know there's a driver who seems to know me. He looks at me again and his eyes widen. "What is wrong? Oh my god, are you bleeding?!" His voice frantic. He pulls the car over to the side of the road as I feel something trickle down my lip. I touch it and look at my finger. Blood. The driver has fully turned to me, my face in his hands now. "What happened? Did you hit your head?" The silence panics him. "Can you speak? Baby girl??" I feel so tired. I close my eyes. He leans me back, making worried noises that I don't really understand now. From far away, I hear him frantically starting the car as I drift back into darkness.
When I wake up, it's dark again. Actually dim, a dim room. No radio this time, but beeping from nearby machines. Hopsital? Hospitdal? I try the word out several times in my head before getting it right. Hospital. I'm in the hospital.
I push myself up into a sitting position and instantly regret it as my head throbs painfully. I want to go back to sleep, but I force myself to look around. The room is indeed dim but there are little lights all around, and the distant sound of people outside the door. The driver from the last time I was awake is sleeping in an uncomfortable looking chair next to my bed, his brow furrowed. I take the time to study his face. Who is he? Why is he here? Why am I here? Fuck.... who am I??
There's a stabbing pain between my temples and and I gasp, dropping my head into my hands. The driver awakens and is by my side in a flash. "Oh my god baby. Thank god you're awake!" His arms wrapped around me, he's strong, I can tell. The pain is gone then, and I push against him. His chest is solid as a rock but he steps back. Hurt in his eyes, and worry.
"Who are you?" I whisper.
He stares at me. Stunned. Mouth opens and closes several times before sound comes out. "I'm your husband."
I shake my head. What is going on? I don't remember getting married. I don't remember... well, anything. I don't know my name or how old I am. I start hyperventilating. The man who calls himself my husband is pushing the call button frantically. I lay back down in the bed. Close my eyes. Pass out.
The next time I'm conscious, they try to explain everything to me.
My name is Jasmine Bang.
I've had an unknown head injury and I've lost my memory.
I'm 23 years old.
I'm from Portland, and that's where I am now.
I'm married to Christopher Bang.
He's Korean, but from Australia.
That explains the accent.
He's biting his nails by the wall. He's worried sick.
I'll be staying here for a few days while they run tests.
It's probably temporary. They hope so, anyway.
Try to rest.
When the doctor leaves the room, Christoper comes to the bedside and takes my hand in his. "Don't worry, baby. We'll get through this. You'll get your memory back." He almost sobs the last part. He's scared, I can tell. I kind of want to hug him but it doesn't feel right. He is a stranger. I just look up at him as he strokes my hair. I'm trying so hard to remember his face. You'd think I'd remember if I'd ever kissed those lips. They are pretty nice.
Another stabbing pain shoots through my head. This one comes with a vision. A short but powerful flash. I'm struggling, bound. I can't see, but I hear a voice. The accent is unmistakable. Then it's gone, and I'm back in the hospital room, my head in my hands. "I'm so worried," the voice says.
The same voice.