Jisung makes his way over to the bed, his cheerful facade dropping as soon as he kicks the bedroom's door shut with his foot. He takes his time taking off all the jewellery hanging around his neck, dangling in his ears, and shining around his slim wrists. He strips down from his clothes, now feeling completely out of character as he stands in front of his wardrobe only in his boxers, fighting himself to not accidentally peak into the wall-sized mirror attached to the wardrobe's door.
He grabs his favourite pyjama set, hoping to feel better after he wears it, and goes straight to the bathroom. Although he lives alone in his small apartment, he has a continuous habit of locking the door behind him, just in case.
With lazy motions, mostly led by autopilot, Jisung removes his smudged eyeliner and any other leftovers after his daily makeup. The pale boy from the mirror looks back at him with a blank gaze, dark circles under his eyes becoming more and more prominent as the concealer gets wiped off.
Jisung hops into the shower, hoping for the water to wash of not only the dirt but also the events of today.
Today wasn't that bad. He thinks to himself, recalling how he spent quality time with his friends after school. Today wasn't that bad at all.
As the water begins to cause a slight burn at his skin, Jisung's breath hitches. It was only a moment before he finds himself clutching onto the shelf to keep himself upright as heartbreaking sobs resonate through his chest heavily.
If today wasn't that bad, why am I still feeling this way? He asks himself, letting the hot water to mix with his salty tears.
He steps out of the shower, drying himself off with a towel. His gaze wanders a bit around the bathroom, falling upon a specific drawer. Jisung's thighs feel itchy.
Not today, he reminds himself, you promised Felix. You promised.
With a tired sigh, Jisung forces himself into his pyjamas, letting the towel rest around his neck as he leaves the bathroom, already heading for the window to let the steam escape. He quickly brushes his teeth, remembering the awful taste of reappearing strawberry frappuccino. Ew, he shudders, never again.
He sits down at his desk, eyeing all the homework he has to catch up on. He prepares the space to study, not before swallowing some painkillers to ease his steadily increasing headache.
Yet after third exercise, the boy gets side-tracked as his eyes stumble upon his phone, a certain piece of paper stuck behind the see-through phone case.
To: xxx-xxx-xxx
Hi uh
Han Jisung here
You gave me you number?
He hesitantly puts his phone away, waiting for the reply. To his own surprise, he received it pretty quickly because roughly five minutes later.
From: xxx-xxx-xxx
When youre free
To: xxx-xxx-xxx
Tsk tsk
Straight to the point i see
Upon not getting any reaction, Jisung continued.
YOU ARE READING
cliché
Fanfiction☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾ in which 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 is a [very stubborn and troublesome] leader of a cliché school drama club, and 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 happens to be a non-conventional fanfic writer recruited to become a co-scriptwriter in jisung's play. lee minho x han jis...
