Exo Imagines

75. Kris (dramatic) Part 1

When people say love is like a roller coaster, they weren't wrong. There were ups, there were downs, there were twists and turns. At first it was terrifying, when your climbing up that straight line towards the heavens, not sure whether or not you would survive the plummet back down to earth. Yet, after that first fall, after that first rush, things seemed to slow, and you got used to the falls because they only made the ups seem better.

However, like a roller coaster, relationships also end. Some end on mutual agreements, some after arguments or some ended with one party having their heart torn to shreds.

And that was you.

Your heart was shattered. It was as if when you said that single word to him, when you agreed to be his, he stole your heart and locked it away inside a glass jar. A jar that represented his secure love for you. But the glass was fragile; breakable. One little flick and, POOF, the protection and love was gone.

For when the glass jar smashed, dozens of small shards remained, stabbing away at your already broken heart.

When you found him. When you caught your boyfriend in the arms of another woman, your relationship was like the soul surviver of a ship wreck. Not sure if it would be saved, and not sure if it was even worth the tremendous trouble to save it in the first place.

You knew he loved you, and you loved him. But the thing was, he just wasn't strong enough to love you, and you alone. His eyes wondered, like most guys, but it wasn't just his eyes, but also his hands.

Seeing his soft hands wrapped around the other woman's waist and his lips pressed against her jaw killed you. Like a blow to the gut, the sight had winded you, stealing from you the abilities to move, speak and even breathe.

You had never moved so fast in your life, blinded as you furiously wipes away the tears and turned your head when his friends asked you the same questions.

"Are you okay?"

"Why are you crying?"

And the worst and most common of all, "What has Kris done this time?!"

But as normal, you stayed silent, locked away in your own little shell. Locking yourself away from the world and from all that could damage your already beaten self.

Your heart wasn't the only thing Kris had stolen. He had stolen your dignity, your self esteem and also your trust. You had known the dangers of falling for an idol, but never had you thought he would be caught with another woman in his arms.

You gripped the strap on your dark blue gym bag and slung it over your shoulder, bending down a little to grip the handle of your suitcase, dragging it behind you as you headed from the bedroom, the case seeming to weigh a tonne. The wheels squealing, almost as if they were screaming at you to stop and unpack.

"Will you stop being so stupid!" Kris yelled at you as he followed you from the bedroom, dragging his feet and halting when you turned to give him a sharp eyes glare before promptly resuming your slow forwards pace for the door. "Baby, please!"

"I am not your baby!" You cried and continued to walk to the front door. It was like a dream. Or more specifically; a nightmare. With each step you took forwards, the door seemed to jump back the same distance, the space between you and the only exit never seeming to change.

You didn't want to leave, but as much as you loved Kris you couldn't let your heart take anymore. It was already handing by a string, a worn and tearing string. And every time you saw the way Kris looked at you and imagine him looking at her that way, one of the thin threads making up your hearts life line would snap and wither away into ash.

"You never gave me time to explain," Kris wailed and quickly tried to wipe away the tear that had seeped from the corner of his eye. But you saw, you saw the way it glistened in the fluorescent orange light of the cheap chandelier hanging above your head, and wanted to slap yourself for feeling that slight pang of guilt in your gut.

"You don't need to explain anything to me, Kris," you spat. "Seeing your hands on her hips was explanation enough."

The tears started to fall now. But to your surprise, you weren't the one weeping... It was Kris. His knees giving way as he dropped to the floor, his neatly trimmed nails clawing at the carpet, hoping to release some of the pent up frustration as he watched the one he loved walk towards the door and away from his life.

"I was obviously never good enough for you, Kris," you mumbled and turned the handle, the cold metal seeming to burn the frail flesh of your palm, but you breathed through the pain and plundered forwards into the hallway, dragging you bag behind you.

You left, slamming the door behind you, a gush of cold wind blowing over a crumpled and endlessly whimpering Kris. You had never been one for dramatics, but this was the time you thought it was needed.

Kris let his tears drop to soak into the floor, the fabric below him darkening where the salty water was consumed by the fabric. "The problem was," he sobbed to himself. "You were always too good for me."

To be continued...