hey.

eunji.

two in the afternoon, clutching the phone like a vice. life source, electric outlet, electrocution if the plug touches water. this is his water. this is his water.

pick up, pick up, pick up.

the phone is ringing. she is waning, five o’clock shadows over a pale bathroom wall, nestling against the tiles. we overstretch sometimes, her fingers ghost over the receiver, he can feel the vibrations of her heartbeat through her arteries, down through her veins and into her fingertips. we overstretch sometimes, to the point of being unable to snap back. this is that point.

i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you –

beep.

hoya.

please leave a message after the tone.