eight

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daffodils were no longer my favorite flowers.

i was out one day in the city.

i thought we could use some alone time, and i was getting champagne for a couple's night. it would've been perfect.

if i hadn't seen you through the window of our favorite cafe, holding hands with a girl i've never seen before.

i felt a tickle in the back of my throat, the caress of something soft against the roof of my mouth, making me gag. i rushed to the nearest bathroom and into the closest stall, hunching over a toilet and hurling my stomach into the bowl.

but instead of my lunch, i saw petals.

yellow daffodils.

daffodils | seokjinWhere stories live. Discover now