“No. But I miss him. God. Some nights it’s just a dull throb and it’s calm and steady but then other nights. The bad nights- My whole body shakes and my pillow soaks up enough tears to last me a lifetime. I lose my breath and I feel for him on his spot of my bed but then I remember that he doesn’t have a spot because he’s gone and I’m alone and it fucking hurts. I don’t love him. But I couldn’t tell you that I’d turn him down if he asked me out somewhere again. I can’t be sure I would deflect his kiss. My body. Mind. It longs for him. But I don’t love him. Because when he left he broke my heart..
And if I keep saying I don’t love him, maybe one day I’ll believe it.”
Summary: (33- “Bite me” “If you insist.”) Ever since you moved next door to Baekhyun, you have been the victim of his teasing and you had enough.
A/N: Hey everyone, this is my first one shot from the prompt list I posted a couple days ago. I will try to post the other requests soon (btw I didn’t proofread so sorry if there are any mistakes). Enjoy!
You run into school late, your hair everywhere and your breathing rigid. It’s your first time being late, your alarm clock not ringing for some reason.
Thankfully, you get to class before the teacher arrived. You walk into the chaotic classroom full of rowdy students talking, laughing, and throwing things around. You walk to your seat in the front of the classroom, planning on just studying when suddenly a body steps in front of you.
“Hey Y/N,” smirks Baekhyun.
You roll your eyes, not wanting to deal with him so early in the morning. “Move Baekhyun.”
You have always hated them. There’s something about them you can’t quite decipher…
Is it because you know the weekend has come to an end and a new boring week is going to start? Is it monotony? Loneliness? Sadness? Nostalgia? You hate Sundays, but this specific Sunday, today, you can feel a heavy feeling in the back of your head.
Is it because of the cloudy sky? Or is it just you? Is it the cold weather of Seoul’s Winter? Or is it just you?
You sigh and rub your temples as you place your head in the window, the only thing separating you from the freezing glass is your grey beanie.
It has been a rough day at the hospital. Running up and down and not even stopping to have a cup of coffee. The snow has blocked some of the main roads and it has caused a few accidents. Blood, bones, people crying, more blood…
You hate Sundays. No, you hate winter Sundays.
All you want to do is arrive to your small apartment, call your mom, call your sister, have a nice bath and eat some pizza while cuddling in the sofa with your American Stanford: Pongo.
As the bus makes its way through the crowded streets of the city you moved in when you were ten, you look at the skyscrapers, the lights, the snow that covers the pavement, the people (hating Sundays as much as you do for what you can see in their faces) the cars, the streets… You would usually read a book as you always spend forty five minutes in the bus, but you finished the one Mei lend you last week and you have already read all the books you own, which are a few to say the least.
It seems like another boring ride home on another boring Sunday evening. Or at least it seems so until the bus stops.