ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴜᴘ. - ᴡ.ᴊʜ✞︎✔︎

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ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ × ᴇx!ᴡᴇɴ ᴊᴜɴʜᴜɪ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3531 ᴡᴏʀᴅs
ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ?: ✔️

ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀs ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ itzAlice123
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋs ғᴏʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛɪɴɢ! :)

It all started with him. It had started out so perfectly, he would take you out on dates and drive you around Korea just for the thrill. Most times you remember he would lie in bed with you for hours on end, playing with your hair and whispering sweet-nothings into your ears. It had started out so perfectly. But he had to ruin it.

The memory floods into your head as you remember how it ended.

- -

A plate was smashed on your kitchen floor in anger, two screaming voices getting louder and louder as more pieces of glass and porcelain scattered across the floor. It seemed like a bad dream, but you knew it was real. How could it not be? You had the scars to prove it.

"I fucking KNEW you'd cheat on me, you whore! How fucking could you!? After all I've done for you!" he shouted, pushing his way around the kitchen table to get to you. You flinched at his words, a specific one crawling around in your head as he berated you.

'Whore. Whore. You whore. '

The tears were already falling across your face, you didn't even bother to wipe them away. You couldn't. Your hands were shaking so much you couldn't move them.

He's always had these episodes, and with you helping him through them, you thought he would get better. Until you decided to go out with friends without his permission. Not like you needed it anyways, but he thought you did. So much so that he broke your phone and refused to get you a new one.

Which leads us to now.

"Why the fuck do you even need that phone, hm? To text those good-for-nothing friends of yours? The sluts who take you to dirty bars and shit-talk me? Or maybe that friend you decided to cheat on me with? Huh!?"

You felt lightheaded from all your crying and the nonstop shouting. But when you tried to explain yourself, he'd quiet down, making it look like you were the only one screaming.

Like you were the villian. Not him.

You snapped, pushed past him and walked upstairs. His words followed you as you ran to your shared room, grabbing your car keys and your sim card (which you mananged to salvage out of the pieces of your mangled phone). He walked in behind you, his hands bloody from the plates.

"What the fuck are you doing-"

"We're breaking up."

You made sure your voice didn't waver like it used to, made sure it was nice and clear for him. And he defenitely heard you. No derogatory terms leaked from his mouth anymore, and his skin went as pale as snow. His coffee brown eyes were blown wide, wider than you thought they'd be.

"W-what? What did you just say?" he whispered, watching as you changed into a hoodie (not his. Yours.) and put on your trainers.

You blankly stared at him once you were done, beyond upset at the fact that he was suprised you wanted to break up.

The fucking idiot.

"I said. I. Want. To. Break. The fuck. Up. Do I need to write it out for you, fucker?" you tried to implement as much rage and malice you could into that sentence, your eyes dull and unhappy.

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