❝I seriously hate your guts,❞
❝The question is, can i rearrange yours?❞
* ༉‧₊˚ | in which two
stubborn assholes
are expected
to work together
through their
hatred for one
another.
under major editing!
mature content discussed.
reader discretion...
mature content is mentioned, but not delved too deeply into.
dejavu.
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now playing | i knew what we did last summer. ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ
status: very unedited
note: you'll be running miles this chapter, so runners on the starting line!
ready! set! 🏁 go! 🏁
One in the morning, and Aeri had just welcomed herself in to another's home. Fortunately for her, their roommates were out doing who knows what on a friday night, but that didn't matter.
She couldn't bother worrying about their chaotic night at some club, or what might be happening at some party. All her attention laid on the man in front of her. She stood right at the front door, at the very end of his apartment hall— looking beautiful despite the circumstances of the earlier events.
Aeri's hair was now a little more dry, yet still obviously damp as it flowed down her shoulders in waves. Her mascara stained her cheeks, and her lipstick barely stayed on, but it didn't matter, it would be smeared off anyway in what she hoped was the next hour.
Her top was no longer desperately clinging to her body, and her jeans and shoes finally felt somewhat dry.
It's been hours since what happened, and simply she just didn't want to care anymore.
If Jisung could do whatever he pleased, and whomever as well, she could too.
In no way, was this ethical to her, or socially acceptable to some of the people in her classes. Some would even frown upon what she was doing, while others wouldn't care because it was her life after all.
But either way, she would still be standing in this very apartment even if someone told her not to.
It was selfish, yes, but sometimes, you need to be. Especially after the man you loved didn't love you back. She thought reasoning her impulsive actions, taking off her shoes quickly, before walking deeper into the corridor.
Her feet padded against the wooden flooring until it halted suddenly, a feet away from the man of the home.
"Are you sure about this," The raven haired male asked, his large frame towering her smaller figure. He wanted to make sure that this was consensual because the last thing he wanted was for things to be miscommunicated, especially in this situation.
