Stuck in my head

😫24

"Don't tell me what to think," Taehyung snaps, and he's mad. Really mad, not like the fake anger from freshman year when you tried to get back at him by being an equally-annoying neighbor. "Don't tell me how to feel. I drew you, dahyun. Not because I'm obsessed with the idea of us getting married, or because you're my muse or some bullshit like that. I drew you because I thought of you, and I draw what I think of. Don't tell me what to fucking think."

"Do you like me, Taehyung?" i ask, on the verge of shouting.

Taehyung's furious. "So what if I do? Huh? What difference does it make? You've told me over and over that you don't like me back, so why does it matter? It's not like I'd ever have a chance."

"I told you because I didn't want to confuse you," i hiss, standing up and beginning to grab your belongings. It's clear that this conversation is turning sour.

"Confuse me? i didn't want to confuse me?" Taehyung shouts. "You did a damn good job at that. Telling me in New York that you hated being called Mr. and Mrs. Kim, but holding my hand as we walked around the city and looked at art together. Kissing my cheek in the fucking bar but then patting me like on the back like I'm just a sadass friend of yours. Can you blame me if I was confused, dahyun?"

"I told you," i say again.

"I'm sorry, dahyun," Taehyung bites. "I'm sorry that I fell in love with you, even though half of the time you acted like it was alright. My mistake."

"It was your mistake. I never said I wanted to date you," i tell him firmly. You refuse to take the blame for something you had made so explicitly clear.

"Can you fucking blame me for being hopeful?" Taehyung asks. He's standing up, about to head back into his bedroom, absolutely furious. "You held my hand and kissed me on the cheek and I thought that meant that you felt it, too."

"Taehyung—"

"Keep the portrait, dahyun," Taehyung spits. "I don't ever want to see it again."

He slams his bedroom door.