‘Chanyeol is sweet.’

I do not love him.

‘Chanyeol is kind.’

I do not love him.

‘Chanyeol understands.’

I do not love him.

‘Chanyeol is there.’

He won't stay.

‘He already has.’

I do not love him.

‘Lies don't last forever.’

I do not love him.

***

I wake up practically swimming in my own sweat. The sheets feel sticky and my head is pounding harder than a sailor on shore leave. I rub at my temple, thinking maybe that'll relieve some of the pressure in my head. It doesn't. I look to my left, Chanyeol is still here, he always is. There's light just barely streaming in from the huge window on the other side of the bed, meaning Chanyeol will be up soon. I climb out of the hotel bed and search for my pants. I don't see them, even after I've picked up and put on my underwear and shirt. The room itself is small so it's not like they could've gone that far… “Son of a…” I mutter under my breath.

“They're on the balcony.”

I stand up straight out of shock, but don't turn around. I hurry to the balcony and sure enough there are my pants, right next to the door. I grab them and pull the dark denim over my hips and enter the room again, mumbling my thanks to Chanyeol.

He's sitting up in the bed now, his eyes are still sleepy looking. It's cute. No. It's not. He's not cute. I quickly correct my thoughts and shake the improper ones from my head. “You're leaving… Again…” Chanyeol says watching me, but not moving.

I look away from his eyes towards the ground at the sunlight that's slowly creeping further and further into the room. I cross my arms and my suddenly dry lips. “We could get breakfast.”

I don't respond.

“I'm still hungover and I can tell you are too, food and coffee would do you good.”

I still don't reply, but I my lips again trying to ease some of the dryness. Chanyeol stands up and walks over to me. I don't look at him, because I don't want to stay. The headache soothes just the slightest bit when Chanyeol places his hands on my hips. I my lips again. “You should stop doing that.” Chanyeol says.

His