iii. Girls need to know how you feel about them.

“Say, Myungsoo, what do you feel about me?” she suddenly asked me while running her hands through my hair.

I opened my eyes and stared at her. My head rested on her thighs as she patted my forehead. “I think you’re you, I feel how I do about you,” I said vaguely, staring into space.

“That doesn’t help much,” she groaned in anger and slapped my forehead with her palm. “Like, do you think I’m snobby? Or ugly? Or maybe even bossy?”

I stared at her in disbelief before chuckling, “Babe, if you’re ugly, I wouldn’t be dating you.”

“Shallow bastard,” she glared at me and flicked my forehead. I winced in pain and rubbed the spot, feeling a bump starting to form.

She combed through my hair with her thin fingers and began pulling my hair. “What are you doing?” I asked cautiously, looking directly at her face. She didn’t reply.

“What in the world are you doing to me?” I asked once more, poking her cheek in the process. Yet again, she didn’t reply.

“Woman, what are you doing toward me? I feel violated!” I shook my head and sat up while screaming. Her hands still held onto a section of my hair and she continued to pull on it.

“I’m braiding your hair, chill. It’s not like I’m going to chop of all of your hair and then stab you,” she sighed loudly and continued “braiding”, as she called it, my hair. 

I groaned, “Am I your hair model now or something?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Terrific. How much do I get paid?” I said sarcastically.

She pinched the skin on my back, making me yelp and jump off the couch. “So, Myungsoo, how do you feel about me?” She yet again asked the stupid question.

“Why do you need to know anyways? Is it really that big of a deal?” her facial expression immediately turned sour and she pulled my hair with so much force that I felt like I was going to have a bald spot from all the hair pulled out. 

“Is it really that difficult to say what you feel about me? I love you, okay? I think you’re amazing, handsome, sweet, caring, and a complete !” she screamed in my face and strutted away.

Well, readers, that began my five day story on how my girlfriend refused to talk to me, or even acknowledge me, although we lived in the same apartment.

Day one.

“Babe, what’s for dinner?” I asked.

She ignored me.

Day two.

“How was your day today?” my arms wrapped around her waist while she cooked.

No reaction.

Day three.

“You look good today, babe.” I smirked and winked at her as she walked by.

Ignored.

Day four.

“Are you ignoring me?” I was frustrated by then.

Yet again, ignored.

Day five.

“Fine babe, I’ll tell you how I feel about you.” I gave up and let out a huge sigh.

She turned to look at me for a few seconds.

I remained silent.

She walked away.

Day six.

Frustrated by how she constantly ignored me, I decided to do something.

I bit my lip and stood in front of her as she tried to walk out the front door. “You may not be the sweetest girl, or the most caring, or the most loving, or the most understandable…” I babbled on.

She glared at me intensely, bringing me back to my point.

“Although you may be bossy, arrogant, and short-tempered, I think you’re the cutest. Honestly, you look really cute when you get mad. I love the smell of your hair, I love the smoothness of your skin, I love your honesty no matter the situation, and I love you.” I breathed loudly, finishing my short speech.

She was blushing.

“Thanks, Myungsoo,” she patted my head lightly and began walking out the door.

“Oh yeah, one more thing,” smiling, she turned around quickly and stared into my eyes.

Before I could even blink, she gave me a light peck on my lips and ran out the door.

“Ah, seriously. So troublesome,” I said, blushing furiously.

Happy New Year!