Faye
Some people would call the impossibility of choosing between several options a decision paralysis. Also known as choice or analysis paralysis. I call it bullshit because its definition is based on this:
You go to a supermarket and stay in the aisle, unable to pick between ten different flavors of... I don't know, alcohol. Okay, maybe this is not the best example, but still.
This lack of certainty in deciding works as an insidious enemy, it increases procrastination and makes us more prone to choose the default option.
But it's not my case because I have no problem choosing between a hundred alternatives. On the contrary, give me a thousand, and it will be even easier for me to select. The more, the better. But not when I have two options.
Because this number, two, is freaking haunting me.
Yes, it may sound idiotic, and someone can say, 'No, Faye. You just have to make up your mind between ice cream and chocolate.' But it's never about ice cream and chocolate. It's always about the cursed number following me.
When I came to Korea, I ran away from a two-and-a-half-year-long relationship, moving into a flat situated on the second floor.
As I said not long ago, there are precisely two words describing my lifestyle best: bad-timing and impatience.
When I went to Busan for Hobi's tennis match, there were two guys at the beach who ultimately became my friend and my boyfriend.
Two weeks passed from Busan, and I met Jungkook at that party under the bridge again.
The first time Jungkook and I watched a movie together, he asked me to give him two arguments about what makes Wonder Woman my favorite superhero.
Moreover, the way I depicted Jungkook's personality was in two modes: raging dickhead and sexy savage. Not to mention that my body is constantly stuck between two sensations while having sex with him: pain and pleasure.
He freaking played Two Feet when he brought me to his place after Hobi's barbecue. He could have easily chosen The Weeknd, but no. It was Two Feet.
Jungkook and I hadn't talked for two weeks after my birthday party's embarrassing, unfinished booty call.
And then, I spent two weeks with my mother at the hospital, plus two other days alone with my dark thoughts until Jungkook showed up at my house.
After that, it was Jungkook's romantic gesture. The one I did not get to see because of everything that happened at Hobi's celebration party, but he told me he bought two hundred roses for me.
Two hundred.
Fast-forward, my holiday in Thailand. Two weeks away from Jungkook, two ladies "predicting" my future and saying I'll have to choose between two men.
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Gold Dust || JJK
Fanfiction"I can't fucking breathe without you, Faye. You mean everything to me." Why does this sound better than I love you? It took me this long to realize that he was serious. Now that I look at him, I understand. The never-ending saga between us and the h...
