"I don't care if it's too early on, but I love you Celine. I love you" he says eyes boring into mine as my heart picks a rhythm.
With each passing second, the world seem to be fading away, but not before taking a photo of this moment and etching it...
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Song: Darkest Hour - Astrid S ft Asim Azhar(on repeat till chapter ends 😌)
Tuesday, May 25
Joshua
Laying on the bed in this dimly lit room, phone in hand, I'm surrounded by the echoes of missed moments, the grey and dark feeling in my heart in contrast to my phone's brightness as I scroll through Celine's unanswered messages. I can't believe it's already three weeks since everything became a mess after that fight and two since I last saw her when she visited the dorm to retrieve my tab. I know she feels I'm intentionally ignoring her because she finally stopped texting or calling a week ago.
Truthfully, each message feels like a weight on my chest, I just don't know how to respond. What do I say to her? I don't want her hurting more than she already is. Even though the realization that someone else desires her stings. But just how do I tell her that I want to protect her? The lingering images of her photos with Taehyung intensifies the turmoil within me every time. Remembering the fear and panic in her eyes that day fuels my insecurities. She's been in the limelight before and I know how that messed things up for her. Like me, she wants a peaceful and quiet relationship but I don't see that being possible.
How do I make her understand that I fear she might get hurt because of me? How do I tell her that being my love means earning the hate of obsessive fans? I only managed to talk the company into sending bodyguards to her store whenever she was available to work while some guarded her apartment. But just how much can I protect her? My heart worries knowing things could go wrong at any moment.
My heart aches with the conflicting emotions churning within me. I miss my girl- her laughter, her warmth, her enchanting doe eyes. I miss us, her morning messages, sometimes trying to speak Korean, which sounded like French when she spoke, the constant beeping of my phone from the hundred photos she sends daily. I miss having her fall asleep while we practiced and her whines when I try to get her to wake up so we could head home. There was no one stealing my shirts now, her side of the bed feels so cold, I miss her beautiful face, her kind heart and free spirit.
Memories of her fills my mind, the first time I laid my eyes on her at the fansign - she stood out in the crowd, drawing me in. I remember how we used to steal glances before we both confessed our feelings, our awkward yet endearing exchanges that marked the beginning of something beautiful. Our first kiss replays vividly in my mind, stirring a pang of longing. I can almost feel the softness of her kiss and the warmth exchanged in that moment and the way she responds to every of my touch. The nights spent here in this room unfolds like a bittersweet folder. My fingers trace imagery patterns on the bedsheet, subconsciously trying to grasp the intangible memories through my fingers.
The weight of her absence hung thick in the dorm and even Khuma feels it, always running into my room with the hopes of seeing Celine.
