Three.

I love him... I love him not. I love him… I don’t love him. Oh but I love him… No, I love him not.

Last petal. I love him.

Stupid flower.

------

One week ago

Frantic footsteps. A push. A quick grab of the arm. Another shove. Lastly, a slammed door.

“Krys!” The desperate boy stood helplessly outside her bedroom. Tiny beads of sweat had already begun to form on his forehead and he nervously fidgeted with his hands.

“Krys come on, don’t be like this. Please don’t be upset with me. I’m sorry for everything I said. I take it back. You’re right and I’m wrong, so please open the door!”

He heard an abrupt thud and felt his heart skip a beat. She was scariest when she locked herself up. He heard clothes being pulled off hangers and at once, he knew she was going to leave him. And this time, it wouldn’t be like before. She was seriously outraged today.

A quick zip and then the door flung open. Jongin held a hurt grimace on his face while she attempted to discreetly wipe away the tears she had tried so hard to hold in. She was holding her favorite Carolina blue suitcase and there was a visible cut on her right wrist. It didn’t take him long to notice the injury, for he immediately reached out to take a closer look. But she wouldn’t allow it. Their eyes met for a split second before she bolted past him.

But Jongin was faster.

And while that second was all it took for his heart to break into a million little pieces, he reacted quickly to stop her before she reached the front door.

He set his arms up as a blockade, refusing to let her past. Krystal glared at him and was trying frantically to catch her breath. Jongin knew that if he angered her any more, she may have an asthma attack right then and there. And so he tried a softer approach.

Lowering his voice, he whispered, “Krys baby, can we talk about this? There’s no reason for you to leave. We can work this out. Please?”

She lifted her eyes to meet his once more. This time, it was much longer but all the more painful. Before she could answer him, he already knew the answer.

“No. I need to go. Just let me go.”

He wouldn’t give up. Not yet, at least.

“But you don’t have to leave. I’ll go. You stay here and I’ll stay at a hotel or something. It’s really late now an-”

He stopped tersely as she had picked up her suitcase and once again, headed for the door. Grabbing her arm with just a bit more force than he had meant, she reacted viciously.

“Kim Jongin, let go of me.” She turned around, sending him an unnatural hiss in the process.

Now that stunned both of them. They had never been to the point where they growled or snarled at each other. Nonetheless, hissed. Besides, humans didn’t hiss. That action was for animals. 

He released her immediately. Her face relaxed and she pretended not to notice the dreadful way he looked at her. She took this chance to escape from the tense apartment. Without looking back once, she closed the door behind her.

And all Jongin could do was stand there, dumbfounded by the fact that his sweet, loving girlfriend had just hissed at him.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

In truth, Krystal and Jongin both knew their relationship was falling apart. Lately, they fought endlessly and neither really knew the reasons behind their arguments. They just simply fought.

Often times, it would end in a few light punches and a tight embrace, and then all was well again. But tonight was entirely different. It wasn’t merely because of the harsh words they had exchanged. It was something deeper, crueler, and more dangerous. And Krystal knew very well that she was being awfully unreasonable. It wasn’t his fault. It never was to begin with. The problem lied within her; she was just too stubborn to admit it.

But then she could not quite understand how she had ended up on his doorstep. Normally, she would not bear to disturb him, especially not with her relationship problems. And she would never show up uninvited or unannounced—even if he did practically treat her as family.

So maybe it was because she was quite delusional at that point and on the verge of utter deflat