𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙧 | nanami k.

02

TW: depression, death, suicide, drug overdose

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You woke up early in the morning—actually, earlier than the usual. You sat up on your bed for a few minutes staring into space, before proceeding to the bathroom. A groaned escaped your lips as you flex your ankle, feeling the sore pain of your feet from last night.

You didn't want to get up, but you know for sure Dash would ring your phone in a few minutes from now. And she will never stop until you pick it up. That's just how she is and you're used to it. Every weekend, you mostly spend your day off at her apartment. It has been like that ever since you got a job.

After doing your business in the bathroom, you carefully walked downstairs, rubbing your eyes to attempt to erase the sleepiness. With your current sleepy state, you didn't recognize your father was finally up, holding a mug.

You removed your hand from your eyes and sighed, glancing at the pretty flowers from yesterday in your light blue vase. It looked so alive, a small smile appeared your lips while staring at it. You still can't believe someone would exert an effort into giving you gifts like this to express their feelings. You can feel your father's stare on you but you ignored him, you didn't want to argue with him first thing in the morning.

"Eat up. I cooked some ramen." he nonchalantly says from across the room.

True enough, you saw a cooked ramen in the kitchen and you got yourself a bowl and poured the contents in it. You opened the fridge and hummed, then grabbed the last orange juice box before shutting it close. You mentally took note to go grocery shopping this weekend, your fridge looked awfully empty.

You ate silently, just observing the flower in the vase from where you sat. It doesn't make sense. Why can't they just make an appearance? Maybe they're not ready yet. Either way, you can't wait for the anonymous admirer because you don't have all the time in the world to wait. You don't care whether they'll show up or not.

A few minutes later, the bowl was empty, along with your juice box. You got up and cleaned your mess, then washed the bowl. While washing, you can hear laughter from the TV and you instantly knew your father was watching the same old sitcom again.

It made you sad. Honestly.

You bite your lip and wiped your hands on your pajamas, walking out of the kitchen. He was resting comfortably on the sofa, his feet up on the table and the remote placed beside him. The scene before you was like a replay all over again. The same shit happens, and he doesn't move from his spot unless he stands up to drink alcohol like the drunkard he is. You pressed your lips together, and was about to go upstairs to your room when he called you.

You stopped in your tracks, still holding the handrails, nudging your head to the side but not looking directly at him. Not now.

He hesitated. He sighed loudly then spoke, "Is that from your man?" you know he was pertaining to the flowers.

He knows you've been receiving flowers for quite a while now, but he never questioned who it was from. Maybe because he didn't feel the need to ask and he knows you wouldn't say, anyway.

"I don't know." this time, you were telling the truth. You genuinely don't know who it was. "Just some guy at the office, I guess." you shrugged.

Without another word, you proceeded to your room and shut it behind you. Your hunch was right, Dash has already spammed you with texts, which made your eyes roll. It didn't take long for you to get ready, and only wore a grey sweatpants and some old shirt from high school. You and Dash have known each other for as long as you can remember. You and her went through the dumbest shit together, and both of you can never last a day without talking to each other.