Patch envies Ricci.

She watches him from the corner of her eye while leaning against the window, one leg folded under her. That milky-white skin of his—every inch must have already been touched and claimed and explored by the younger and nicer Dyer.

The asshole Dyer has only held her hand for the past seven months.

Ricci looks at her and raises an eyebrow, giving her an easy smile. He turns back to the road and asks, "What's on your mind, noona? You hungry? Dave prepared a good breakfast, you should've eaten—"

"I'm moving out," she says quietly.

Ricci's head twists so fast towards her she's afraid he broke his neck. His eyes are wide. "What?! No—"

"Chiko doesn't care what I do unless I try to get myself killed. I won't try it." If she dies, Chiko can't touch anyone else. She's the only one.

And she cares enough about the asshole to give him her hand every night even though he's breaking her heart every day.

Patch has tried everything. She's had enough.

Rhyburn knows never to go near the Dyers. They live in the secluded part of town, near the forest, with a big metal gate protecting the manor and the estate. The story is that the Dyers are white-haired and pale-skinned and they never come out. They're completely isolated.

Chiko and Myc do have white hair and pale skin, but they go out with hoods and gloves and socks and sleeves—everything to cover even a centimeter of their skin.

That's how she met Chiko.

Patch knew he came in the little bookstore she used to work at every Saturday at precisely nine-fifteen. He'd come in with his head down, covered from head to toe, and then he'd disappear in the aisles for hours.

Patch was rearranging books on a shelf when she catches him sleeping on the floor against the wall, head slumped down to the side.

She put the books in her hands very carefully on the floor and squatted in front of him with a smile.

She saw his hair was white under his hoodie, and immediately knew this was one of the Dyers her parents warned her about when she was little.

Still, Patch thought he looked harmless. She even leaned forward to carefully inspect his face, her eyebrows scrunching at the allure of his features. What could possibly be so dangerous about this beautiful man?

Then, as if feeling eyes on him, his eyes flew open, and Patch fell into him in shock of his piercing and electric blues.

She can't remember which part of him she had touched, because he scrambled away from her with wide, panicked eyes as soon as they made contact.

And then he ran and came back the next day looking very sickly under his hoodie. He stood in front of the counter at the bookstore and clenched his jaw before taking off his glove and offering it to her. "Hold my hand."

He asked for that once a day until Patch finally demanded an explanation.

Her job at the bookstore ended and Chiko asked to meet with him, begrudgingly, as if he was being forced to do it, to feel a touch—once a day in a place without people. Until Patch said, "I can move in."

"No."

Patch frowned. "You said Ricci moved in."

"They're romantically involved. We aren't."

Patch forced herself into the manor, anyway. At that time, she thought it wasn't going to take long before they had the same relationship as Myc and Ricci.

She couldn't be more wrong.

Patch offered him more than her hand because she knew that he wanted more. He handcuffed himself to the bedpost, for fuck's sake, but Chiko always said no with a sneer and a glare and ignored her for the rest of the day. And then he would knock and sleep next to her with his hand in hers.

She cooked him breakfast that he didn't eat. She invited him to watch movies with her in the manor theater. She sat beside him at dinner and tried for conversation and laughed when nothing was funny, just to make up for his lack of sound and interest and look.

There were nights he didn't even come to her room. There were nights she came to him to give him her hand, only to find his door locked.

It's been seven months of that. Like he detests he can only touch her. Her.

No more.

Myc can hate that she can only touch Ricci, but she'd be grateful it's him. Chiko is not.

Ricci sighs and runs a hand in his hair in frustration. "Noona, don't—please—"

"Don't tell him."

Her friend looks anxious. "Noona, I—"

"Pretend you don't know anything," she says.

"Just give him more time," Ricci pleads, looking at her, and she wants to ask why she has to, but doesn't.

"He can ask to hold my hand whenever he wants to, but he comes to me when he wants it. I don't want to be in his beck and call anymore," Patch says, looking out the window, feeling the sun through the glass. "After all, he said he wishes he never found me."

*

Patch can't help but notice touch everywhere.

Her friends kiss her cheek or squeeze her shoulder when they leave. She bumps into another student in the classroom earlier. There are arm brushes in the packed subway, thighs sticking together on the seats. The barista that gives her her coffee as she works on her architecture assignment touches her palm when he gives her the change.

Patch knows Chiko can't ever have that.

He's playing the piano in the music room in this large and lonely manor when she comes back. It's the first time he's not waiting for her by the fire in a week—probably because he thought she'd come home later.

David offers her tea and cookies, but she politely refuses and heads up the stairs to shower.

Chiko knocks. Patch opens the door and turns away before her eyes betray her and look at his face.

"You came home early today."

Patch almost laughs. Home?

She also wants to say it's because it's her last night, and her things and clothes are packed in the massive walk-in closet just near the dresser.

She doesn't, though. She only waits for him to slip his hand in hers.

Patch hears his sharp intake of breath at the feeling of her skin touching his even as he tries to hide it. It's loud.

She shuts her eyes and forces her hand to keep still for the rest of the night. Just until morning.

*

She should've known David would already be awake.

"You're leaving, Ms. Samaniego?"

Patch winces and turns around.

David has his hands behind his back as he walks closer to her. The Dyer butler was always polite to her during her stay, and he moved in and about the house like a shadow.

Just like now. Patch swallows thickly and says, "Yes. I'm not needed here."

"That is incorrect," the old man counters, frowning ever so slightly. "Master Chiko—"

"Can go fuck himself," Patch snaps, and immediately winces when the words are out of her mouth. She shuts her eyes and bows her head, shoulders slumping. "I'll be with my parents for a week for the holiday break with my phone turned off, and then I'm coming back to my apartment. Tell your Master Chiko he can find me then if he wants to."

She leaves before the butler can say anything in defense of him.

*

Home is nice. Familiar.

Patch is hugged and kissed and touched by her family and relatives. She's doing a wonderful job of pretending like she hasn't been sleeping in the same bed as Chiko Dyer for the past seven months by smiling and laughing when they ask her if she ever crossed paths with one of the 'Dyer demons'.

"That family has been cursed by the devil," her grandmother says when the living room clears and they all move to the dining room, clicking her tongue, and Patch turns to her with wide eyes. Does she know? "Poor Aryana."

"Aryana, Grandma?" Patch tries very, very hard not to sound too eager.

"The beautiful woman who married the Dyer," the old woman says, shaking her head. "Used to see her a lot in Rhyburn before she disappeared in that evil manor. She died a few years later, her body found on a shoreline. Next to her was the white-haired monster." Her grandmother turns to her and whispers, "He killed her, that's for sure."

Patch purses her lips. Could they be Chiko's parents? "Was there evidence he killed her?"

"Obvious, isn't it? Living with that monster...she probably tried to escape, then he caught her and killed her. Poor Aryana." She clicked her tongue, stood up, and walked to the kitchen. "Where's that mango pie I saw earlier?"

She probably tried to escape, then he caught her and killed her.

Or did he die because she did?

Patch shakes her head and puts on a smile, joining her family at the table.

*

She gets back to her little loft apartment a week later. Patch cleans, does the laundry, throws out expired food from her refrigerator, and reunites with the teddy bears she left.

Three days pass without a word from him. Even when she turned her phone on, there were no messages from him, and Ricci only sent her a: text me when ure back so we can hang out, noona

She doesn't. She doesn't want to leave her apartment yet.

On the fourth day that he still doesn't come to her (Patch thinks he never will, and that's fine, he can live without touch for all she cares), Patch leaves her apartment to buy dinner from the convenience store.

She barely reaches her door when a voice shrieks, "Patch!"

She turns around and sees Myc's furious face, hands reaching out to touch her.

"Myc!" Ricci shouts in panic, coming up behind her, grabbing his girlfriend away just inches before her skin could touch hers. "Jesus Christ, did you fucking forget!"

Patch presses herself to the door, shaking.

Myc almost touched her. She almost killed her.

Even the Dyer didn't realize that. "Oh my God," she whispers, stepping back, hands on her mouth, eyes wide and teary. "I'm so—Patch, I'm so sorry, I...I—I forgot, I was so used to it with Ricci and I—"

"It's okay," she hears herself say through her shaking. It's not her fault. It's not her fault. "I'm fine."

"I told you not to come here," Ricci hisses, arms still around her. "I told you we would go together."

"Patch, Patch, I'm sorry," Myc pleads, stepping forward, and Patch's back hits the door again.

The younger Dyer doesn't try to come near. She looks heartbroken. "I'm sorry, I was just angry and scared. My brother—he's—" She stops, gasping for breath, tears down her cheeks.

"What?" Patch chokes out. She looks at Ricci. "What happened to Chiko?"

Ricci's Adam's apple moves up and down. "Noona, hyung is...he's—he needs you."