#1 TOXIC SERIES
It's the typical Enemies to Lovers story, flavored by yours truly.
Raised in the same neighborhood and social circle, Minho and Hyunjin know each other far too well. Both families are well-known chaebols with deep roots in the South...
I love this chapter so much.. I'm going to throw myself into a ditch from second-hand embarrassment and cry. After you read this chapter, let me know if you want to join—there is enough room °3°
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Sleep. Such a frivolous thing. 'Cause, who needs it?
I bought a couch that wrapped around the sunken living room, yet I only used five percent of it most of the time; tugged away in the corner, knees up, my arms wrapped around, and a blanket to cover me. My chin balanced on my knees as I watched Seoul by night. Tossing and turning in bed was something I hated, so I just sat here and waited for the sun to rise, or I got extremely lucky and fell asleep for a bit.
I had a thing for replaying my day over and over again. Like some fucking cow ruminating his vomit, or whatever nastiness they did.
This time it was Lee's words that had latched their teeth into my brain, making me rethink them every damn second.
He was an absolute know-it-all. But that wasn't the part that fueled my insomnia. It annoyed the crap out of me that he was right. Scarily-precise-right. I never fully considered that I needed Lee the way he described it a few hours ago. It was unintentionally from my side that I searched for a fight with him whenever he was within my fist's reach. Even if I lost afterward, the tension release was unexplainable. And while I'm at it; I slept on those days the best. That was even more fucked up.
I groaned, throwing my head back against the couch. I was so fucking tired, yet I lay here wide awake thinking of an asshole. Such a sweet paradox. Maybe I should call Yang... it has been a while.
With my phone above my head, still tilted toward the ceiling, I scrolled down through my contacts. Yang. He would most definitely be asleep. I mean, most people would at four in the morning when they have office hours. But he never had his phone on silent. I could wake him. He'll be annoyed. I'll give him something to shut him up. The usual banter.
My thumb hovered over Lee. I didn't realize I'd scrolled back up. I pressed on his information, seeing his photo pop up. It was spontaneously taken, one without forced smiles. He did smile though, showing his angular face in profile; with squinted eyes and a bulged cheek... the little mole. He looked pretty.
"Jesus, pull yourself together," I muttered to myself and the shadows casting over me and my living room. My home was an empty shell. There was nothing in here that screamed me. Just a bunch of creams, whites, and earthy colors thrown together into a modern-looking apartment. Straight out of a page from Residence Magazine. The only hint of me was my bedroom. And you know what the hilarious part was? Nobody ever had set foot into my apartment. And even if they did, they would straight-out laugh if they stumbled into my bedroom—because it was a side of me no one knew of. Not even my mother.
I didn't like to share those sides of myself. It was so much easier to be snippy, mean old Hwang to everyone. It was, after all, my dominant side. After kindergarten, it kind of stuck, and now the venom had spread into a permanent state.
