𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡,
𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫,
𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡,
𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭
𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡.
Park Jisung is nothing if not obsessive; and his new obsession is a...
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"MOM," JAEMIN CALLED frantically as he stood in in his little sister's bright pink room, who was currently screaming. "Mom, please help!"
The boy cringed as Jia's deafening cries only got louder and louder. He tries to give her anything—her dolls, toys, books, yet it seemed like the sobs were everlasting. It didn't stop until his mother barged into the room, door slamming against the wall after she opened it. "What's going on in here?" She asks, placing her hands on her hips.
"Jia's throwing a fit because she thinks I'm trying to make her look ugly!" Jaemin points a finger at her.
"You are!" Jia shrieks. "Momma, he can't do anything right!" She stomps her foot against the carpet furiously.
The brunette's mouth fell agape, fighting the urge to strangle his little sister. She may be a kid but if she wants to talk shit, she better be able to take the heat! He feels an itch to remind her about his 3.5 GPA, which he is immensely proud of considering how much time he also spends with the dance team. It's incredibly hard to maintain that. His sister doesn't even know how to long divide yet.
Mrs. Na clicks her tongue. "Watch your mouth, missy. Why do you think that?" She inquires.
Jaemin can see that she's trying not to lose it. It's seven in the morning, and his mother look's unraveled; her thin hair that's normally in a right bun falls onto her shoulders, frizzy and untamed. Her eye-bags that are usually concealed make an appearance, and she looks exhausted. The boy feels a bit of guilt for bothering her so early when he knows she has a shift to get to in half an hour.
"Because there's no pretty outfits!" The girl pouts.
"Jia," Jaemin facepalms. "I picked a pretty pink skirt for you!" He exclaims, quickly being overrun by his frustration.
"It's not good enough! I want sparkles."
The woman walks towards her closet. "Jia, you love that skirt. You begged me for it. What's wrong with it now?" She demands, and pulls out a white tank top with a tiny jean jacket to go along with it, setting it on the bed.
