EIGHT

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CHAPTER EIGHTthe toll of the misunderstanding and lack of contact

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CHAPTER EIGHT
the toll of the
misunderstanding
and lack of contact

"It just can't be anyone who happens to take an interest in you, my dear." His mother told him in worry with knitted brows.

M/n clutched the golf club tightly in his hands as he properly positions himself behind the little white ball.

"I know that." He said with crossed sincerity. "That's why I've been thinking."

His mother's eyes widened dramatically, surprised to hear that her only son had been 'thinking' when he usually makes other people do it for him. Is this 'development'? She wondered.

"You've been thinking?" She clarifies, peering onto her son with surprise dancing in her irises.

"Yeah." He casually swung to hit the ball accurately.

"What have you been. . . Thinking?" It felt odd to associate him with the word but it was a progress she wasn't exactly displeased with.

"That it can't just be anyone." He sighed, thinking about that time with Goo's friends and how none of them even triggered the idea of romance (not that anyone could blame him).

Or how instead of feeling joy at the fact that someone gave him their number, he felt unreasonably upset to see Goo leave and turn his back against him.

He was wrong to believe that anyone would do. He doesn't think just anyone would be able to cure his inexplicable longing for something he can't even pinpoint. It's supposed to be special.

"Have you talked with your therapist?"

M/n frowned. "Not yet, but I'll be visiting her soon. . . For a little clarity."

"You did what?"

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"You did what?"

The dark-eyed male was in disbelief as he listens to his blonde colleague's sorrows. Having witnessed what looks like to be the humanifaction of the Great Depression.

"I told him the truth and ran out."

"Are you, by any chance, mentally handicapped?"

"I didn't come here to get berated on!" Goo whined in a complaining tone; resting his forehead on the cool, marbled table with flavorless soju in front of him. "Can't you see I'm in the dumps already? I might as well just fly to another country and delete my identity. . ."

✓ birds of a feather ; kim joon gooWhere stories live. Discover now