{one}

I didn’t want to be overly dramatic and change my content expression melting to an expression that screams, “I just saw the love of my life walk through this café door with the most broad shoulders, sharp like his eyes, body perfectly fit in that white t-shirt and casually nuzzled in that black leather jacket. Quality, I can tell. Hair dark and messy little strands framing his forehead—god knows how he does it but for a second before I saw his face I thought he might’ve been lost—and someone should’ve brought him back to the runway a.s.a.p.” He didn’t catch my eyes, but boy I caught his. And when I did my heart was tied, and some little devil was inside trying its best to squeeze the out of it making me feel nauseous. This boy was breathtaking, and even more so tonight. I felt like I was in the first few chapters of a book and skipped a few more chapters until I got to one of the last ones. Surprising, but even more so confused. I brought the cigarette closer to my lips and pursed it. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Eyes roaming all around the café. I’ve never noticed how the pastel pink flowers on the ceiling complimented the light gold. Eyes back to him. Indeed, he really is a stunner. Eyes roaming back around the café once more, and yes. I’ve been waiting for this. A couple of stolen glances on him from some women. I smile a bit, knowing how it felt to have him right next to me and seeing them giving me dirty looks from time to time, and wide eyes for him all the time. That was how it was being with oh sehun. A man who’s heart I broke once upon a time. And who am I kidding? I broke my own heart breaking his.

Grabbing my purse and hugging my coat, I flipped my hair that was trapped inside of it when putting it on. I grabbed my pack of cigars and held it with my right hand while throwing my left hand inside my pocket and huffed a breath while walking past through the tables. My pace had slowed down until I stopped for a quick moment to take a look at him. I never planned to come up to him and say hi, so I didn’t. Instead I blinked a few times while taking a good look at him waiting in line for his order. A medium French latte with 2 packs of sugars, perhaps? It’s pretty much the only type of coffee he’s been drinking ever since I randomly ordered it for the both of us when he couldn’t decide what to order back then at the café right in front of our college, and I liked it even more because French latte sounded fancy. He doesn’t make his own coffee at home, so the only time he ever drinks coffee is when he’s outside (I’m not too sure about that now), while I do. But French latte has only been my only option whenever I’m in a coffee shop. I guess some habits never die. Or maybe, just maybe ever since then I just want that little piece of memory of him with me. I could be wrong on that as well, because all little pieces of memories of him will always be with me, no ing matter what. I felt the blood under my face almost stop running at the thought of that, so I looked down on the floor, and back up, and dragged my two feet towards the door.

When I walked out, I felt like the caffeine rush was only working only when I started having a bit of an anxiety after seeing him in there. His face and expressions were so weirdly still photographed in my brain, and most likely to be engraved in it for forever the next couple of years. I felt it, sehun. I could feel again. I was happy. I didn’t even realize that I was grinning until I felt the sides of my lips ache. But that stopped when I looked to my side and I saw you. And the most important part is that you saw me too. You wouldn’t have looked at me as if you saw a ghost. With your mouth wide open and your breathing obviously stopping. You wouldn’t have walked closer to me with your eyes staring at me down like that as if you found a treasure. And I hate you for that, because if it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t have walked even closer to you as you did to me that I heard your shaky breath. you wouldn’t have your lips and I wouldn’t have stayed in my place, feeling my feet plant so deep to the ground because of how much I’d thought that that was beautiful. So ing beautiful. You were so goddamn beautiful, sehun . I almost dropped my pack right at that moment and if I had more things in my hand I can gurantee that I would drop everything that I had because of you. And clearly I didn’t do that back then when you were willing to do the same.

“I’m good” I say. Not entirely lying. And he nods with a little grin on his face. My eyes roamed around everything but him and there it was, a black sharpie “FL” written over the plastic medium cup. And I finally smiled. And you did too, but I bet you didn’t have a single clue on what I had my eyes on, so I looked at you straight in your eyes and you finally spoke again. “I—I don’t know how to—uh, aha” you stuttered nervously and I shook my head alright. Time flew by and the next thing I know is exchange of numbers and small exchange of grins as we both looked back at each other while walking away.

it’s been 3 days since I’ve given him my number. What exactly is he planning to do with it? Scam? Of course he wouldn’t think the same way because I have his. I am, in fact, the one who breaks his heart after all. God, do I ever take a hint. Just why would he think, “I’m going to text the who’s been breaking my heart everytime she had a chance to”. Getting my number was most probably just out of an act of kindness, courtesy, maybe a spice of sympathy. Maybe he thought, “I could break her heart too”. Damn straight he could. Anytime any day this heart would only break for him dammit.

Ting.

Oh sehun

“you on?”

.

“ya, whats up?”

“hey”

“hey”

“this probably sounds odd but went through some of my boxes yesterday and I found mrs. Doubtfire”

“and?”

“and I want to give it to you back, when are you free?”

oh, so is it’s that then. Mrs. Doubtfire was like the oldest piece of item I’ve ever given him, before the mixes, the keychains and some sappy cards. Was it going to be the last thing he throws away? And to make it more dramatic he wants me to be present and see him throwing it away by returning it back? I was starting to think that this would be the worst form of torture I’d experience. And hey, I kinda deserve every bit of it.

I cleared my throat and typed away, “anytime this week. Ur call”

“tomorrow night? My house?” and he texts me his address and sent “is it alright?”

“ok” it’s always been like this talking to him. He’s always been considerate, but then again, is it because he’s afraid of me? Maybe he learned it the hard way. “I’ll pick u up at the nearest bus stop near my house. You might get lost” dammit. 

author's note: pls leave feedbacks and lemme know if u still want to read more chapters lol!! thank