𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝟏𝟏𝟗 || 𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙊𝙉 𝙇𝙀𝙀

two : her hobby

THIRD PERSON PERSECTIVE

"WHAT IS THIS!" jessica laughed at the book in her hand.

"give it back." imanique sighed.

"you want it?" jessica shut the book and lifted it up, "fetch." she teared the book and throwed it across the field.

"what on earth, jessica!" imanique screamed, running for the book, or should i say, diary, that she loved to write her personal thoughts in.

"pfft, as if she's going to find it!" jessica laughed, and her minions laughed with her.

UNKNOWN PERSON PERSECTIVE

"what the." i turned around and realized that someone throwed a.. book? "now, who- i thought i was alone."

i turned around and saw that I was right, i was indeed alone.

he stood up, rubbing his sore head, and gazed around the secluded clearing with a mix of confusion and paranoia. the sudden, inexplicable attack made him feel vulnerable and exposed despite being alone.

his secret sanctuary, once a haven for solitude and reflection, now seemed tainted.

a sense of unease settled in, like a shroud of uncertainty. he questioned his own perception — had he really been hit by a book, or was it just a stray branch or a wild animal? but deep down, he knew what he felt.

he looked around once more, no one.

fear and self-doubt crept in, making him wonder if he was losing his grip on reality. the isolation, once comforting, now felt oppressive. he felt like an intruder in his own hideaway, as if something had claimed this space as its own.

his heart racing, he glanced down at the book, its cover worn and mysterious. a shiver ran down his spine as he hesitated, wondering if he should touch it, or leave it alone. the silence seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, making him question if he was truly alone after all.

flipped open. he opened the book.

as he delved deeper into the book, he felt an unexpected connection to the writer. the lyrics spoke directly to his soul, echoing his own thoughts and emotions. he wondered who could have written such profound words.

the name "i" was scribbled in the corner of one page, followed by a small "q" — a hint of the author's identity. he turned the page, and his eyes widened as he read the next line.

it wasn't until he stumbled upon a poem titled "whispers in the hallway" that he saw it - a name, barely legible, but unmistakable. imanique.

he felt a shiver run down his spine as he tucked the book into his bag. the writer's words had touched a chord within him, and he couldn't help but wonder what other secrets lay hidden within its pages.

he walked off, lost in thought.

"hey, wonbin." — and he smiled, his mind still reeling from the discovery.

"what's up, toni?"