"𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙤𝙩."
"𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙗."
"𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥."
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╰┈➤ IN WHICH, a troubled biker makes a pitstop for Monster Energy in an unfamiliar city and falls f...
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With your eyes shut, you sit atop a dark wooden bench, hidden behind shady trees and various twisted turns. Music from your AirPods play resoundingly as you let yourself slip away from the physical space you were currently in.
The bliss of spring break was unmatched, really.
The cool air against your face felt borderline angelic, though it made you shiver slightly.
It was a Tuesday, which meant you didn't need to go to work. You had your breaks from Monday to Wednesday; one of the only things you looked up to at the start of the week.
The night always felt therapeutic— more comforting than therapy, even— and especially when you didn't have to worry about school. The night sky never blinds your eyes like the afternoon sun does and there was even a cute biker that's visited your work. Twice!
Soon enough, your mind drifts to Xiao. He's been visiting nearly every day, giving little tips or awkward-- but positively sweet, albeit sharp toned-- comments.
On Sunday, you told him about your work schedule. He seemed disappointed, but didn't say anything much about it.
Ugh. That (cute) boy, sneaking into your thoughts like a little (adorable) parasite.
Your reverie starring Xiao was interrupted by the sound of a "ding!" coming from your AirPod. You don't bother to check it just yet, and instead resume immersing in your thoughts.
You stare straight ahead after shutting your phone off, watching a singular car drive by you.
...
Music continues to play into your ears. The lyrics seep deep into your brain like a spell, distracting you from everything surrounding you. You look down at your shoes without reasoning.
The soft melodies from your AirPod had eased your mind, yet trepidatious thoughts (such thoughts have become familiar to you, but alas, never once have they grown mellower) proceeded nonetheless.
Was it your fault?
No! It wasn't. Nothing was your fault.
Stupid thoughts. They persisted no matter, even if they were illogical. You increased the volume of your music till you couldn't hear much else.
Wind blew onto your face, having you fix your now-askew hair. With a click of your tongue, you stood up and started to walk.
———
You head straight to your bedroom once re-entering your house. Your jacket, shoes, and other unnecessary articles of clothing have been discarded the moment the door was closed shut.
You collapsed onto your bed. Rolling onto your back, you groan. Not an ounce of drowsiness has washed over you yet. You blame your night shift job; it's practically turned you nocturnal (though you've always preferred the night over the day anyway, so you weren't exactly complaining).
