Unsent Love Letters | Son Chaeyoung

ᴅᴀʏ 3

[ Why would you do that Jeno? What made you stare at me? It's purely embarrassing, you have no idea how red my cheeks flushed when I saw you watching me and now, I can't help not to think that I look like a toothless child, toothless but still asking for chocolates. ]

"How long has he been there watching me?" Kallea asked herself for the twelve time, anxiously tapping her nails on the wooden table.

Has he seen her yelling for chocolates? Has he seen her pouting? It clearly frustrates her to conclude things Jeno had noticed. He just stared at you, no big deal. He doesn't care, wake up, he doesn't even know who you are. Her subconscious tells her that complicates her thoughts more.

Right after seeing Jeno watching her, she quickly bent down and crawled to the side to pull the strings that's clamping the curtains of her window. It falls down and blocks the view of her whole room which allows her to breathe properly.

The memory of her embarrassing experience flashed back on her mind, sending shivers all over her body.

It makes her want to curl in a ball to feel secured all of a sudden. She felt so exposed everytime she thinks about it. It happened yesterday, but every bit of the details were still vivid on her mind. She's overthinking.

She then snaps her head up to look at her closed window with the curtains still covering the inside of her room. She decided not to open it again to avoid the chances of being seen by Jeno.

The urge to slap herself suddenly came in when she realized how unfair she sounds like. She'd been watching him for years, not just typically watching but stalking, observing, checking him out, in short, obsessing over him, then she has the guts to say that she doesn't want him to see her? Pathetic.

Kallea spent her whole day yesterday hiding, she also did it today, and she plans to do it again for tomorrow and for the next days until she thinks Jeno gets over with their window to window encounter already.

Quite sad, she had eaten the bar of chocolate her mom bought for her. Being anxious as hell, she ate it all too quick yesterday, ruining her motive to save it and take just one piece each day so it would last longer.

She should be sleeping by now, but she still looks around her room to search for something to shift her attention with until her drowsiness visits her.

Standing up, Kallea walks to her drawer. As she opens it, bunches of letters greeted her sullen face. She then put inside the letter she wrote this morning that she forgot to place in this month's row.

It counts 2315. That letter is indeed memorable.

Feeling her dreadful boredom coming, she decided to pick a random letter she wrote for Jeno from her drawer.

She run her fingers through the layers of letters, scanning them until she had her choice. The letter she picked counts 1486 and just by recalling the number, she instantly had regrets by picking it.

Somewhere around that number—as she remembers—holds a certain memory that is sometimes too painful to remember.

[ Jeno, hi. I was wondering if you're still with the curly blonde girl who used to sit over the back of your bike. She's Natalie right? I remember her. She's one of our classmates in preschool who always competes with me in getting the highest score in our quizzes. But I never saw her again with you, you two were inseparable since 8th grade. What happened? ]