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Ethereal Blue

What if your best friend were a ghost-and your soulmate? Buchi never imagined his scholarship to a prestigious Korean school would come with invisible princes, ancient curses, and dangerous rivals. As the only one who can see Min Soo, a Korean prince cursed to walk the earth unseen, Buchi becomes his lifeline to hope. Jealous students, power-hungry sponsors, and dark supernatural forces threaten to tear their connection apart. Will Buchi rise above the odds to break the curse, or will love be lost in the shadows of time? Buchi-egeun joheun hakgyo-e iss-eo-neun scholarship-eul jwahae, geu-eun gil-eseo an-bo-in-eun wang-ja-reul mann-a-seo, gil-eseo an-bo-in-eun ma-eum-eul mann-a-seo, Buchi-eun geu-ui ma-eum-eul bich-eo-neun sa-gwa-reul jwahae. , , , . Buchi-wa Min Soo-eun geu-deul-ui ma-eum-eul kkae-wo-jwoya hal su iss-eoyo. Geu-deul-eun eotteoke hae, Min Soo-eui jo-geum-eul kkae-wo-jwoya ha-geoyo? ########### "Guy why you dey look me like that?" His voice was steady, but the flicker of confusion and heat in his eyes made my chest tighten. At first he didn't say anything until l asked again but in korean (Neo-neun wae naege ireol geoseul hae-yo?) - "Why are you looking at me like that?" (Jeoneun aniya)"I’m not," I lied, though my gaze refused to move from the water sliding down his neck, tracing the hard lines of his chest before disappearing beneath the towel. (Eotteoke geurae?) " Huh! Really?" he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. ("Neo-neun naege gyeoljeong-gwaui gwaje-cheoreom bolleo issna-yo) "Because you’re looking at me like I’m some kind of forbidden fruit." I swallowed hard, cursing the way my breath hitched. He wasn’t wrong. Something about him—his presence, his confidence, the way he stood there dripping wet like he didn’t have a care in the world—had me unraveling. ("Neo-neun ban-naj-eo iss-eoyo.") "You’re the one standing half-naked," I shot back, though the words lacked bite. ("Mwo neo-neun mweo-rae ganeun-ga?") "What do you expect?" He laughed, the sound deep and rich, like the rumble of a storm. "I didn’t expect you to be so easy to distract." ("Neo-neun joheun geol al-a-isseo.") ("Joheun geol an-iya.") "Distract? I’m not distracted." My words came out too quick, too defensive. He stepped closer, his damp hair falling across his forehead, and for a moment, the space between us felt electric. "Then wati dey make you dey blush?" I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Because he was right—I was blushing, my pulse racing, my thoughts a mess. And then, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, he was gone, leaving nothing but the memory of his smirk and the ache in my chest that told me this wasn’t over. --- Can you survive the pull of gravity when it’s not just the black hole that’s consuming you—but him? Dive into ETHEREAL BLUE, a tale of cursed ghosts, forbidden connections, and the kind of chemistry that stops time itself.

delyonworld · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
13 Chs

PROLOGUE

NOTE- "Welcome to ETHEREAL BLUE, a tale of love and self-discovery set against the rich cultural backdrop of Korea and Nigeria. As you immerse yourself in this story, please note that the dialogue and narrative will blend elements of both Korean and Nigerian accents, dialects, and language patterns.

To fully appreciate the emotional depth and cultural nuances of this story, we invite you to use your imagination and 'hear' the words in your mind's ear. Envision the rhythmic cadence of Korean and Nigerian speech, and allow the emotions and intentions behind the words to shine through.

In this way, we hope you'll experience the beauty of cultural fusion and the universality of love, as our characters navigate the complexities of identity, family, and devotion. Thank you for joining us on this journey!"

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BUCHI POV

The locker room hummed quietly, the soft sound of water dripping mixing with the steady rhythm of my breath. I leaned back against the cold tiles, feeling the chill seep into my skin after a punishing 5,000-meter run. Sweat beaded on my skin, tracing its path down my chest, sparkling beneath the dim lights. My reflection in the metal lockers caught my eye for a moment—dark skin glowing, muscles tense, shoulders heaving with each breath. I wiped my face with a towel, letting the solitude of the room soak into my bones.

Then I turned.

And froze.

Time seemed to slow, the sound of the dripping water fading into an eerie quiet. A figure stood a few feet away, someone I didn't recognize. His presence was like a shock to my senses—out of place, yet as if he owned the space. He didn't even need to try.

He was tall, posture perfect yet relaxed, his figure dressed in the most unusual outfit I'd ever seen. Layers of silk and intricate embroidery cascaded down his body like something from another time, the rich colors catching the faint glow of the fluorescent lights. His hair, long and neatly tied back, framed his face like a work of art. High cheekbones, sharp jawline, lips too perfect for any man. And his eyes—deep, dark, almost impossible to look away from—seemed to see through me, not just look at me, but into me.

But it wasn't just his face. No, his gaze didn't meet mine at first. His eyes followed the trail of a single drop of sweat that slid down my neck, down my chest, and stopped just above my navel. His expression was hard to place—somewhere between awe and confusion. He didn't move, and the stillness around him felt like the world itself had stopped.

I swallowed, suddenly aware of every inch of my body. My fingers clenched around the towel, but my voice came out steady, even though my chest felt tight with something I couldn't name.

"Abeg… you dey lost or something?" I asked, my tone sharper than I meant. "Wetin be this one? You dey shoot historical drama or something?"

His eyes flicked up, finally locking with mine, and for a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe. There was a sadness in those eyes, something that went deeper than time itself, like a soul worn by years of longing. He didn't say anything. He just stood there, staring at me with an intensity that made my pulse race.

I blinked.

And just like that, he was gone.

Vanished like smoke in the wind. One second, he was there, the next, the air where he stood was empty. As if he never existed.

My heart raced in my chest, the towel slipping from my hands. The silence in the locker room pressed in on me now, thick and heavy. Was I imagining things? Maybe the exhaustion was playing tricks on my mind. But no. I couldn't shake the image of his face, those eyes that seemed to stop time.

Whoever he was—or whatever just happened—something told me this wasn't the last time I'd see him.

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MIN SOO POV

I wasn't supposed to be here. Not like this.

(Na-neun i-je iss-eul geos-eobs-neun-da. Ileohe iss-eul geos-eobs-neun-da.)

The bathroom was humid, filled with the faint echo of dripping water, and the world around me seemed to blur, hazy from the steam. I was struggling, battling the black hole that threatened to drag me into oblivion. My chest heaved, my legs weak as I leaned against the cold tile wall, fighting to remain tethered to this plane.

And then, just as I was about to give up, he appeared.

It wasn't subtle. It wasn't quiet. One moment, I was alone in my torment, and the next, he was there, stepping out from behind the lockers like he belonged here. My entire body froze, my struggle momentarily forgotten.

I'd never seen anyone like him before.

(Na-neun geu-cheoreom salam-eul mann-a-ss-eo-da.)

His skin was dark, smooth like polished bronze, glistening under the fluorescent light. Beads of water clung to his chest, tracing the ridges of muscle that rippled with every breath he took. His chest was broad, tapering down to a narrow waist, his six-pack defined and flawless. Fine hairs trailed from the center of his chest down past his navel, disappearing beneath the towel wrapped loosely around his hips.

And the water… My gaze followed a single droplet as it dripped from his damp hair, traveling down his neck, gliding over his collarbone, and sliding down his chest, carving a slow, torturous path toward his belly button.

Why can't I stop looking?

(Na-ui nun-eul teol-eo-ji anh-aseo)

I blinked, forcing myself to tear my eyes away, but it was no use. My gaze was drawn back like a magnet, as though he was pulling me in without even trying. He moved with an effortless confidence, unaware of the effect he had, the way the air seemed to shift around him.

What is this feeling? Why does he look… beautiful?

(I geu-geom-eun mu-eos-in-ga? Geu-neun wae areumda-wo?)

I shouldn't be thinking this. I shouldn't be staring. And yet, I couldn't stop myself. Something about him was different, magnetic, and for the first time in over a century, I felt alive.

Then he turned, and our eyes met.

His expression shifted, surprise flashing in his dark eyes as he stumbled back slightly, his towel clutched in one hand. "Whoa, dude! Where did you even come from? And what's with the outfit? Is this some kind of joke?"

His voice was low, warm, with a lilt I couldn't place. It sent a shiver down my spine, even as his words snapped me back to reality. I tried to answer, but my throat tightened. My tongue refused to work.

Why can't I speak? Why am I acting like a fool?

(Nae-ga malsseul su eobsneun-ga? Nae-ga babo-cheoreom haengbokhae)

He frowned, tilting his head, and I noticed the faint scar just above his left brow, the way his lips parted slightly as if waiting for me to explain myself. "Hello? Are you going to say something, or…?"

Say something. Anything. Stop staring.

But I couldn't.

Instead, I took one last look at him, memorizing every detail—the way the light hit his skin, the beads of water on his chest, the faint hitch in his breath. And then I disappeared.

Vanished into the thin air between us, leaving him standing there alone, towel in hand, confusion etched across his perfect face.

As I materialized somewhere far from him, my chest ached with something I couldn't name.

What just happened? Why did I feel like… I was meant to meet him again?

(Mu-eos-in-ga? Na-neun wae… geu-reul dasi mann-a-l geos-eobs-neun-ga?)