Tin x Can: Happy ending [Alternative finale to Love By Chance]

TinxCan: Not the end

[Can's POV]

     I'd never understood people who said life was complicated. Mine was pretty simple. I went to school, played football and hung out with my friends. I didn't need or want those complex relationships and weird emotions that people were so keen on having only to complain about how miserable it made them.

     I liked simplicity. It made me happy and comfortable. Why would I want to change that? Why would I want to give up simplicity? That was it, I didn't. And so I kept on doing the same.

     I still went to school every day, I still played football with my team and still hung out with my friends, avoiding anything that would disrupt the sweet peacefulness of simplicity. Logically, I should feel happy and comfortable, right?

     Wrong.

     Happiness? Comfort? These were foreign concepts to me as I sat on the white wall in front of the school building, contemplating my own current state of unreasonable misery. My elbow plopped on the soccer ball on my lap, my palm cupping my chin. My eyes were cast on the new phone Tin had bought me, as I scrolled through the messages I'd sent him in the past week. A total of fourteen messages that he hadn't bothered to reply. One good morning message for each time I woke up, and one good night message for each time I went to sleep, just like I had promised him before I'd rejected his proposal to become his boyfriend. Before everything went to shit.  I sent him funny clips, scary clips, smiley stickers, a picture of my dog chewing my foot. But nothing worked. It was as if I didn't exist to him anymore.

     Maybe I should've stopped sending him these messages. It was a torture. Every time my phone rang with a notification, a tinge of hope went through me that maybe, just maybe he had stopped ignoring me and was talking to me again. But that hope was shattered immediately after when I saw that none of the notifications were from him. Yes, it was a true torture. But a promise was a promise, and I'd send him two messages per day, every day, until my debt was paid.

     Still, it hurt. How could he pretend I didn't exist when I was feeling like this, when I couldn't go five minutes without images of him haunting my head? It wasn't fair.

     Where was Tin? What was he doing? With whom? Was he sleeping alright? What did he dream about? Did he think about me? Probably not.

     "You're like the air I breathe." Tin had told me. Had he lied? If I was really like the air he breathed, how could he ignore me like this? Or could he just go without breathing now? Tin, you lying bastard.

     Shit, Can. Stop thinking about him already! I thought to myself for the billionth time today as I ruffled a hand through my hair. But I should know by now that my pleas were void. The more I struggled to keep Tin out of my head, the clearly I could visualize the memories of him, playing in my head like one of those cheesy movies my mom and Lay watched.

     I scrolled further down until I found the picture he'd sent me the day of our movie date at his place. A small smile stretched at my lips, but it lasted only for a brief second until the sadness closed in on me again. This was a bittersweet memory. Sweet because when I thought about my moments with Tin a nice giddy feeling flooded my heart and everything felt better. Bitter because it was a reminder of what I'd never have again.

     I reached a hand to touch my lips, drifting my eyes shut as I relished on the memory. I could still feel his hand cradling my neck, I could still savor the taste of him, his soft and moist lips on mine, the ticklish sensation of his tongue licking my lips.

     His kisses were wet and warm and delicious. To cry for—literally.

     Shit! Now I wanted to kiss him again.