❝he reeks of cigarettes,❞
❝and i'm simply an infatuated smoker,❞
* ༉‧₊˚ | in which two
stubborn assholes
are expected
to work together
through their
hatred for one
another.
under major editing!
mature content discussed.
reader discretion advised...
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chapter forty-one - love and hate is the same. 0:35 ━❍──────── -3:18 ↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺ VOLUME: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%
unedited
Sweating profusedly, Fever Dream had just finished their daily evening rehearsal. It's been about a few days since the Park has been discharged, and a whole new atmosphere had blanketed the young adults.
The boys had seemed closer with him, yet Aeri felt like an outsider.
Sitting down on the couch, she tilted her head up and leant it back against the red cushions. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes shut as she silenced her roaring thoughts to a singular hum.
She lifted her head and met the lingering eyes of the lead singer. He stood, dressed in a pair of grey sweat pants and black tee, at his microphone stand. He leant tiredly against the rod, staring blankly back at the brunette, however it held something in his irises.
"So," Aeri began, pushing herself up from her seat, then trailing to the side wall to regain her sage green guitar. "Where were you this afternoon? We missed you at the episode briefing with the competition's staff," She asked, back to him, but something in her knew that he stiffened. She could tell by the momentary silence after her words that it was a harder question to absorb.
"He was at therapy trying to break down that defense mechanism," Jeno answered. Immediately, the woman turned on her heels— curiosity peaking at the different voice. She faced towards the drum set, and saw the Lee sat behind his instrument, twirling his sticks between his fingers.
"Yeah, i told him he could skip today since the meeting was only about the introduction filming and nothing too crucial to know," Mark added in, appearing next to the girl, startling her for a second, but something else had surprised her more.
Aeri finally returned her gaze back onto the male, watching as he wiped down the rod. "Is that true?" She asked, barely above a whisper, though Jisung heard it clearly.
"Yeah," It was a small answer, yet it held so much more to it. More wasn't always good however.
"Hmm," She hummed, nodding in mock understanding before walking back towards her spot next to the other guitarists. "You should drink water," With the hand free of her guitar, she reached down to her guitarist corner and picked up a water bottle, then holding it out to Jisung only for him to face forward— barely having given the item a spare glance.
"I'll get my own," His tone had came out harsh, and distant. Aeri felt herself spiraling. Right when they began to make progress, when she had started to realize that they could do more than just simply co-exist, the slate was erased. It was wiped clean of any previous marks, drawings, pictures, and moments.
