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FALLING IN LOVE IS NO JOKE.
Trust me, I've had first hand experience at it.
It's like a natural high, that can be triggered by a serendipitous love encounter or over a period of bonding between two people.
I'll admit, all that love felt between the two lovers are all fun and games until a third person decides to join the equation, suddenly acting as a catalyst in making things a bit frisky.
And by frisky I mean, heating things up with someone else that you're not in a relationship with.
In other words, cheating.
Yes, I've had my heart painfully torn out of my chest cavity because my first supposed love decided to cheat on me.
Wait, my bad.
I think the better description would be, it was all smoke and mirrors until I found out that he was cheating on me.
He used me to make some other girl jealous and apparently it had worked wonders since I took the bait hook, line and sinker.
And for mochi's sake I feel like total pabo because I was genuinely smitten and I thought the feeling was mutual but apparently, it was not.
In earnest, love is like having a morbid interest but in contrast to that, wouldn't it be wonderful if love was perfect as love itself and not just a disturbing illusion depicting a devil in a black dress?
I shake those thoughts away, which had suddenly erupted in my mind after he, who I once called boyfriend showed up and without a care, he decides to take a seat on the now empty chair that's on the opposite side of the table of which I'm currently occupying.
Once he's seated, he goes on to stare at me with that stupidly beautiful blue eyes of his, with no shame whatsoever and obviously this causes me a perpetual amount of discomfort so I go on to speak.
"That seat's already occupied, Minho." I strongly state yet I keep my gaze fixed on my notebooks and loose pages that's scattered across the table. "There's plenty of other free tables around, choose your pick."
I sense those thin pink lips of his form a small smirk, and I feel his stares continue to bore into me.
"But this is the only table that I find the most interesting." He flirts.
"Then you must really love school and the shit ton of baggage it comes with." I spit and with my peripheral vision, my eyes darts over to the restroom area.
"When is he going to come back?" My mind, screams in agony, hoping for my only ray of light to crack through that wooden door.
I didn't come here alone.
In fact, I came here with one of my classmates because we got an essay based on Othello due for English class first thing Monday morning but that nut disserted me for the god damn toilet like ten long minutes ago.
