chronicles of lovers.

꒰ irrational love ꒱ -nayeon.

꒰𖧧꒱ 𓂃"No Oscar, no Grammy, no mansion in Miami. The sun don't shine, they sky ain't blue if I can't be with you."

꒰𖧧꒱ 𓂃 irrational love ⸝⸝ nayeon.

꒰𖧧꒱ 𓂃 Song of the day: " If I Can't Be With You" by R5.

ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ. ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ. ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ. ㆍ.

It scares me to think that I won't find love. No, it doesn't scare me. It's a phobia.

I've been living my whole life in the same cycle; school, home, library, friends. It's not that I hate it, but a break would sound nice, to be honest. I mean, who wouldn't get bored from going to the same school my whole life? Sure, not moving schools is a blessing, but just seeing the same faces every day gets tiring after a good, long while. It all started in the eighth grade, when this girl (devil, to say the least) came to school. "She's the prettiest of them all", people said. Ugh, I'm talking about Im Nayeon, if you didn't know. Why does she drive me insane every time I hear her voice? I don't know what to think about it, seriously. Should I just shake it off or should I just ignore her?

I remember that on the first day of the eighth grade, I saw her for the first time. I condemn the day I met her. It was an August 16th, if I'm not mistaken. I saw how her shiny skin and gleaming smile entered the classroom, haunting me endlessly. I was just a regular student, writing my schedule on my agenda, until I heard her screeching voice.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm the one who should sit there," she said.

I stopped writing on my agenda and looked at the owner of the unrecognized voice, and I sighed.

"I actually don't see that chairs are assigned, Miss, um-" I answered, smiling snarkily.

"Miss Im, and, uh, my dad's the principal of this school, so I'm afraid that any chair in this institutionalization is MY chair," the girl answered back.

"Oh, really? And perhaps I forgot to curtsy at you, your majesty. Shall I get you your cup of tea and your breakfast croissant?" I answered.

"Or perhaps YOU should get out of my way and go sit at the back," she answered back.

"Oh, yeah? And who are YOU to give me orders, MISS IM?"

Our argues were interrupted by the teachers loud shrieks, which made us flinch.

"Nayeon and Y/N, perhaps you both shall have your own chairs in the principal's office right now? I'm sure Mr. Im would be delighted to have his daughter and his exemplary student complaining about a chair in the first day of school. Nayeon, please sit at the back, and Y/N, don't make me disappoint your mother today with a disciplinary report," the teacher scolded.

I could swear I heard the girl mutter a low "You brat" under her breath, but I stayed silent.