[ALSO KNOWN AS "MATCH MADE IN HELL" ON WEBTOON ORIGINALS]
He's. . . hot, popular, and proud.
She's. . . plain, eccentric, and persistent.
There's nothing common between them except that they hate each other. Not good, right? But why is he determine...
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ღ Finding Cinderella- 41 ღ
-Kylie-
Three days later. I didn't feel like a human being anymore.
I felt so numb but so filled with a gnawing, burning pain that had grown from my chest. I didn't even know it was possible to feel that way.
"Dammit." I rubbed the bridge of my nose between my eyes as I hung my head down to avoid the bathroom mirror.
Tristan and I had seen each other through our bedroom windows just a moment ago. The first eye-to-eye contact we had since that night. He only had a blank facial expression, but I had seen by the set of his mouth that all he felt was contempt. It was better that way. After all the things I had said to him, he had the right to feel that way about me.
I'd be fine soon... at least that's what I told myself. Deep down I knew that this kind of ending disappointed me. And I hated myself for feeling so since I was the one that pulled away. I wanted him to let go of me.
I hadn't given my heart to him, but I wished I could bury it somewhere. Deep in the ground so I wouldn't hear it beating for him.
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-Tristan-
I wished those songs that I used to binge-listen didn't apply to my life as well as they did now. I just wanted to enjoy the adrenaline rush that those songs gave from the crazy guitar solos and sharp vocals, but goddamn, I didn't know their lyrics could hit that hard. So, I switched to a playlist that I didn't usually listen to and turned the volume of my speakers on full blast. Mom began yelling, "TURN THE VOLUME DOWN, TRISTAN" from downstairs, but I couldn't barely hear her amid all the noise of the drums and the vocalist screaming about anarchy. Was it actually about anarchy? Not sure.
But I needed the noise. I needed to wake up. I needed to get distracted.
My friends had told me that a few shots of beer would help me forget what had happened, but I'd taken several last night, and her words were still eating me alive. Distance was one of the necessary things to move on, but I'd developed a habit of glancing at her bedroom window, and just a moment ago, she'd happened to be looking at my bedroom window, which led us to have an eye-to-eye contact for two seconds. Now, I wanted to hurl my speakers out the window out of frustration and remorse.
