Forget me- Not [ Oh Sehun FF ]

블루 벨 Blue...bell

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Sehun lies in bed after the Holo Cafe meeting with Aoyue. Eyes closed he can see her face burned into the insides of his eyelids. He can hear her soft voice, strained because of her damaged lungs. She had shown him how to fold a napkin into a paper basketball and flick it over the table through her fingers, squealing and ducking out of his way each time he missed.

She had been giggling so hard that they had to be asked twice to quiet down. Even Sehun found himself smiling widely and laughing along with her. That same napkin was now tucked away in his jean pocket with her phone number on it. She had slipped it into his hand when he offered her an awkward handshake and then parted ways.

Aoyue is perfect, he thinks. He remembers her bright smile with a dimple that dips into her cheek only on the left side. She allowed him to let go. The questions about him dwindled until finally she asked nothing about him and he asked nothing about her and then she was just talking. She loves books and flowers and camping and he thinks that's everything he hates but it doesn't matter because Aoyue says she likes them.

Sehun feels silly, to say the least. He feels obsessive and creepy. They saw each other more than a couple of hours ago but Sehun had gone right upstairs to lie in bed and just think about her. It's like when he's around her he can just escape. He's comfortable. She doesn't care about all of the little things that are daily pointed out to him. He can tell she's just happy to have someone to be around. He's happy to have someone to be around. He's happy. He's elated from their meeting. The only thing that's pulling on his mood and dragging it down is the idea of the rest of his life. Not everything is Aoyue.

Not everything is happiness and escape. Reality hits him hard. Tonight there is dinner with his parents. Tonight there is homework he doesn't understand. Tonight there is restless sleep because tomorrow there will be school. Tomorrow there will be people who push him around. Tomorrow there won't be Aoyue.

The bliss he was feeling vanishes and he rolls over onto his stomach and buries his face in his pillow.

The orange light of the setting sun slips in through his window and settles over his chest, he can feel the heat there. It's making him sweat. The orange setting sun, the shadows falling all around him, the feeling of drowning- it's all around him. The unsettling feeling and all the dread of his life comes caving in.

Aoyue is merely a distraction. Nothing permanent. Nothing real. What is her purpose anyway? Why is she bothering him? She makes things so much harder. She lifts the weight of his life off of his shoulders and then lets it slam back down and crush him. She's not really worth the trouble.

Now, the napkin with her number is heavy in his pocket and he pulls it out and throws it on his nightstand without a second thought. Aoyue isn't forever. She's the bright flash of the headlights before the car hits you head on.

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Sehun's mother has a habit of cleaning every Saturday. She likes to think of it as fresh way to start the new week. Sehun finds it highly annoying.

First, his mother completely strips the bookshelf, the one in the living room with all of her history books and his father's collectable thrillers. She wipes it down and then puts the history books in order of happening and his fathers in order of release. She does this with the magazines on the coffee tables and the bathroom rack, as well. She then has Sehun clean the upstairs bathroom while she does the downstairs. She removes all of the bedding and washes it. She vacuums the rugs and carpets on every floor. She piles up any dishes she finds and Sehun washes them and then she goes back up to remake the beds. The list goes on and on. It's a process, but she completely cleans and reorganize the entire house.