I Never Told the Sun

The moment the screen showed a clip of his very annoying, gorgeous face, seemingly being interviewed on the morning news channel, she turned it off.

Foreboding. She didn't want to see or hear him for the next few days or even decades, if it was even possible. She still hasn't been over the self-frustration and confusion of what the recent events has caused her.

It's been three days and she still can't shake off the funny feeling she's been having ever since he took her home that one drunken night.

'This sun will take the moon home now.' That line kept replaying on her mind over and over again that she was this close to pulling her hair off if it would make her brain quiet down.

That sun.

That sun is gonna get a beating the next time she sees him for making her go through this torture she can't escape. She made a mental note of that.

A sigh escaped her lips.

I hate him.

As instantly as that thought escaped her, a smaller voice, that try as she might to silence it, it still incessantly pops at the back of her mind, bugging her in so many ways she can't explain.

It says a completely different thing, that she herself wanted to deny that that was from her own thoughts because it just screams nothing but warning... and wanting in her mind. It makes her skin crawl with how clingy it sounded even in her own head that she always finds herself having a very hard time making a full-on brake with her inner monologue when he is involved.

I miss him.

She was currently sitting on her yellow plaid sofa in the living room of her apartment with her feet propped on her coffee table. A box of untouched Sichuan lunch full of vegetables and beef brimming with his signature chili paste sauce was sitting on her lap for about an hour now.

Her fingers played with the chopsticks on her right hand while she spaced out, her left hand was busy with scrunching the cover of her sofa, letting it go, pulling the sheet even more, repeating the process over and over again. Her eyes were burning holes at the empty plastic food containers neatly stacked on her sink that she could clearly see from where she was sitting.

She can't help but click her tongue and bite her lip. "You're an idiot, Yue." she murmured to herself.

She should be comforted.

She should.

But she's not.

Her nerves were all over the place.

Anxious.

Anxiety drips down her bones the moment it sank in that she could possibly be... maybe... nearly... in the middle of surrendering all her inhibitions out the window for something so uncertain.