You still weren’t showing him that you were forgiving him, despite all of this happening, and despite the fact that – you didn’t really want to admit it, but yeah – he was a real sweetheart. You were still thinking it would be better if he’d just GTFO, leave your life, and never come back. You could then just forget about everything, and go back to a normal life, far from eventual U-KISS fangirls wanting to assassinate you, and far from a guy who was too ing perfect to be human.

Speaking of the too ing perfect to be human.

Time went by, with the stress of the presentation of theme ideas for the exposition of the graphic design students coming faster and faster everyday, and suddenly it was time, for your anthropology class, to change something about your body for five days. You decided to go in Chinatown to buy yourself some Asian clothes that you’d wear for a week, because, why not. So far, so good.

You hadn’t remembered that Eli wanted to dye his hair blonde.

When you saw him on Monday morning, he was taking his jacket off in front of his locker. When he turned, you froze right there, right then. Speechless.

.

.

.

.

.

So. Much. NOPE.

You were perfectly conscious that you looked like a goldfish, opening and closing your mouth without anything coming out of it. But . WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THIS GUY. SERIOUSLY.

You walked towards him and stood in front of him, fists clenched, glaring at his ing hot pale blonde hair. He had cut it a little, too, so it’d be easier to put up in the air with hair product. Oh, and just to make things more ‘different’, he had also decided to put on the iest clothes you had seen, like, ever. He had a very tight, clean black shirt with some flashy red on it, a silver necklace that looked badass, and some, erm, very, very tight jeans that let you see the outline of his perfectly. Oh, and. The shirt was tight enough to have difficulty containing the amount of arms muscles it tried to hide.

You sighed and very meticulously applied your hands on his chest, right on his pectoral muscles, before you slowly but decidedly pushed him out of your way. You directed him into the lockers and made sure his back was against them before you removed your hands and kept going your way, a black aura everywhere around you, amplified by the badass Asian clothes you had found in Chinatown. Eli watched you leaving with question marks in his eyes, and he followed you, frowning.

“Hey. Where’re you going?”

“To class.”

“I’m in your class, so why did you push me away? Was I in your way?”

YOUR HOTNESS WAS, FACE. “Nah.”

“So why?”

Because you’re one ing retarded hot… hottie. In lack of any better word. “Because I felt like it.”

“Oh… okay…?”

You decided not to explain yourself any further and you sat in front of the door, closing your eyes, refusing to look at the pack of hotness that had just decided to sit right next to you, close enough so you could feel its – yes, its, because – body warmth.

“Jeo-o…”

“Shut. Up.”

“But…”

“I said. Shut up.”

Because your voice will make me want you to stay with me.

“But…”

“Shut up, Eli. Just… shut up.”

“But it’s my last week. I’m leaving on Saturday morning. I have my ticket already.”

You froze a little, but tried not to show it. He was… leaving on Saturday? Had it been two months already? Were you already going to watch him leave? Was he already leaving your side? So soon?

Wait.

What was that ‘already’ in your mind? It should’ve been ‘finally’…

And yet…

And yet, it wouldn’t turn into ‘finally’. It wouldn’t, because when you opened your eyes, you saw his. Staring at you, dark, piercing, and yet full of sadness, tenderness, care, and… and love. You looked away, stubborn. It would be better if he left. You didn’t deserve him, and, anyway, he was a celebrity who lived on the other side of the planet. It would be better if you forgot about him, and if he forgot about you…

“About time,” you mumbled. Not that you really meant it. But he was so retarded he probably wouldn’t notice.

“I know. I’m sorry I made you waste your time like this. Just one week, and I’ll leave. I promise.”

His voice was sad. Immensely sad. Had he already given up? It was better like this…

“Hey,” he said softly.

“What?”

“Will you miss me?”

“…”

“I suppose that’s a no.”

Idiot. ‘Qui ne dit mot consent.’ Don’t you know that? Silent gives consent. Was he really that stupid?

“I’ll miss you,” he added sadly.

“…”

“I love you. I’ll always love you.”

“…”

“I won’t forget about you. I won’t come back here, I promise. But I won’t forget. You’ll always be in my memories.”

“…”

“In my memories, and in my heart.”

Too much.

You got up, taking your bag with you. He frowned.

“Where’re you going?”

“Elsewhere.”

“Eh? Why? Is it because of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, I-”

“Shut up. Just, shut up.”

“But-”

You turned, growling. Not hating him. Just hating yourself. “Shut up, Eli Kim, or I’ll be making sure that you have nothing good to remember me by.”

You turned again and left. Skipping both classes of that day.

Not hating him.

Just hating yourself for falling for him so easily.