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╭ ╮ ━━━ " 📂 " ..⃗. ༉
𝘾 𝙍 𝙔 𝘽 𝘼 𝘽 𝙔
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! chapter eight ─── ʚĭɞ
╰ ╯
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It was exhausting. She couldn't go through another fight with him again. And so Yeori had come to a decision when she came home that night and quietly joined her brother and father watching TV with one of the Melona popsicles that had been in the freezer for too long. She couldn't deal with him anymore, so she wouldn't. She wasn't going to answer him when he leant forward in his chair or came to her dance studio. She wasn't even going to burn his gloves anymore, and when he asked for them back, she would give them back.
And until he did, they would be stuffed onto the top shelf in her closet, where her rows of varying purses and more formal shoes that weren't worn so often. And she wasn't going to mope around just because she had to see him every day, she would take it in her stride and be done with it. She would act like he had been there all along. Which was why she didn't allow knowledge of his presence to bother her anymore.
