It was late when the car stopped in front of Bach Lan's building. Streetlights stretched like pale silk, laying a thin glow over the wet road after the evening rain.
Trach Hien did not hurry to open the door. He sat still, watching her fumble with the seatbelt, the small awkward movement making the quiet in the car feel even closer. You could hear breathing.
"Are you cold?" – He asked suddenly, his voice low and soft, like velvet brushing the ear.
She shook her head and offered a small smile.
"No. Thank you for bringing me home."
He did not answer right away. A calm silence stretched between them until he leaned a little closer, not so close as to be oppressive, but near enough for her to feel his warmth and the familiar scent of his jacket.
"I know you might not be ready yet. But tonight, seeing you walk beside someone else, even for a few steps... I couldn't stand it." – He said.
Bach Lan flinched. She looked up and met his eyes, which had never been so clear before.
"Have you ever thought about being my girlfriend?" – He asked, almost a whisper.
She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat.
"I don't want you to be someone without a place by my side." – He went on, squeezing his hand into a loose fist and glancing out the window as if hiding something true and raw. – "Especially when Trach Dong keeps acting strange around you."
Bach Lan froze. His words were soft like wind, yet they echoed in her chest.
"I don't care who you are, having any background." – He said, turning back to look straight at her, honest and unguarded for once. – "All I know is that whenever you smile at me, my heart warms in a way I can't explain."
In the dim car light, Trach Hien's face looked strangely gentle. The sharp, office-wise edge was gone. All that remained was a man speaking from the heart.
"I like you, Bach Lan." – He said, his voice low and husky, as if he had let down every guard. – "From the first time I saw you, I began to notice you."
She felt her heart pound, like those words touched something deep and soft inside her. At the same time, something else pushed back gently like a thin wisp of smoke that had not yet dissolved in morning mist.
Bach Lan didn't know how long she had been holding her breath. Her heart beat fast in her chest. Thoughts of the dreams, of Trach Dong, of unclear memories she could not name all swept away for that moment.
"I..." – She began softly, but the rest of the sentence never came.
Trach Hien only smiled, not pushing her.
He opened the car door, stepped out, and walked around to her side to open her door. Under the streetlight his shadow fell long on the ground.
"You don't have to answer right away." – He said quietly, holding the door top over her like a small shelter. – "Just don't go too far from me."
She stepped out and looked up at him, her heart tangled with many thoughts.
Part of her truly stirred. Another part still hesitated, as if listening to a distant call coming from some faraway place.
The house was wrapped in silence. When Bach Lan pushed the door open, the soft glow of the night lamp in the hallway was already lit, as if someone had been waiting.
She slipped off her heels, one hand pressed lightly to her chest, where her heart was still racing, the echo of that confession lingering inside her.
"Back already?" – A low, gentle voice came from the living room, making her flinch.
Bach Lan turned.
It was Thanh Nhi. She sat on the sofa, a book in one hand, a thin blanket draped loosely around her shoulders, as though she had been waiting all along.
"You're still awake?" – Bach Lan asked, surprised.
"Couldn't sleep." – Thanh Nhi closed the book, her eyes unfocused. – "The moon's too bright tonight."
Bach Lan stepped closer, sitting beside her sister, trying to keep her tone even.
"I just had dinner with Trach Hien."
"I see." – Thanh Nhi replied, showing no surprise.
"He told me he likes me."
The words slipped out softly, as though she was speaking only to herself.
A brief silence stretched between them. Then Thanh Nhi turned her head, lips curving faintly, though her gaze stayed sharp.
"That was fast. Some words are like flowers, like mist, light and pretty, but easy to stumble over."
Bach Lan frowned slightly, hesitant.
"You don't like him?"
Thanh Nhi didn't answer at once. She looked down at her hands, her voice airy as a breeze.
"I'm only afraid you won't stay clear-headed."
"He treats me very well." – Bach Lan countered, though her words lacked strength.
"The gentler a person seems, the easier it is for others to let down their guard." – Thanh Nhi exhaled. – "And you, Bach Lan, you trust too easily."
Bach Lan lowered her eyes, as if her sister had laid bare something she herself was unwilling to admit.
"I'm not a child anymore, sis." – She whispered, a hint of defiance in her tone.
Thanh Nhi studied her for a long moment before speaking slowly.
"Then tell me this. If one day you had to choose between what makes your heart race and what makes you feel at peace... which would you choose?"
Bach Lan's head lifted, startled.
"I've never thought about that."
"One day... you will have to." – Thanh Nhi said as she rose, picking up the cold cup of tea on the table.
She moved toward the kitchen, but before disappearing down the hallway, she turned back, her gaze deep as the sea.
"Some dreams aren't meant to be believed. They're meant to help you remember what you've forgotten."
After Thanh Nhi left, the room was swallowed by a soft, velvety quiet, leaving only Bach Lan and the thin veil of darkness.
She sat still for a long time. The warm glow of the lamp brushed against her pale skin, glimmering faintly in her eyes, where uncertainty lingered like mist. Her sister's words still echoed in her ears, each syllable dropping into her chest, touching the most fragile corner she dared not name.
"She's afraid I won't know who comes close because of me... and who comes close for something else."
Her mind drifted to Trach Hien's gaze when he confessed, gentle, sincere, carrying a loneliness etched deep by years gone by.
And yet, hidden inside that warmth, there was something that kept her from fully letting go.
She moved to her room, lay down on the bed, and pulled the blanket over her shoulders without turning off the light. At some unknown moment, her eyelids grew heavy. Thoughts blurred and scattered, as though drawn into a drifting fog.
***
In the dream, every sound was blurred, softened as though wrapped in a thin veil of mist.
Bach Lan found herself standing inside an old courtyard house, its tiled roof curved with age, a small garden alive with the fragrance of magnolia blossoms and the trickle of water from a stone jar. Sunlight poured gently over everything, warm and golden, still as a summer noon untouched by war or worry.
On the veranda ahead, Trach Hien sat with a book in his hand, dressed in a plain white linen robe, his hair loosely tied with a strip of blue silk. When his eyes found her, he smiled, a smile as tender as dawn's first light, enough to dissolve every guard she had ever carried.
"Little Bach." – He called, his voice low and soft, each syllable steeped in longing. – "You're here."
She stepped closer. He set the book aside and took her hand.
"I just brewed lotus tea. Sit, I'll pour for you."
He handed her the cup with careful, unhurried motions, his gaze never leaving her, as if no one else in the world could ever be worth looking at.
"If only we could stay like this forever." – He whispered, his hand resting gently on hers.
A breeze stirred, carrying the faint scent of lotus. His eyes on her glowed with a peace too deep to name. In that dream, she believed... truly believed that this man loved her with all his heart.
But then, the sky darkened.
The world around them split apart as if torn by unseen hands.
She turned toward Trach Hien. Somehow, he was already on his feet, his tall figure no longer the gentle scholar she had seen a moment ago.
"Little Bach." – He called again.
Yet this time, his voice came from somewhere strange, heavy and hollow, like an echo from the depths of a chasm.
She stepped back. A cold shiver raced down her spine.
Slowly, he turned.
It was the same face, but his eyes had changed. No longer tender, no longer kind. Only an endless, devouring black. They did not look at her as a man looks at the woman he loves. They regarded her like a possession... something about to be taken away.
***
Bach Lan jolted awake.
The pale light of dawn slipped through the thin curtains, washing the room in a faded shade of gray, white. She sat up, pulling in a deep breath, yet her chest felt unbearably heavy. Her heart still raced, and her hands were cold as ice.
The dream lingered, strange and tangled. It had begun gently, like a love song, only to unravel into something that left her gasping for air. She could not tell what it was meant to be memory, warning, or nothing more than illusion.
"Just a dream." – She whispered, trying to soothe herself.
Yet somewhere deep inside, a quiet unease remained, shapeless but persistent, refusing to let go.
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