yeah, it's me ☯ taehyung

☯ 19%

A/N: Updates will be slow.

she sat their on the soft carpet, leaning her back on the couch with her laptop open with different windows and tabs. "she thinks i'm cheating on her with you." she was faintly moved by what he said —by what his girlfriend thought of her and taehyung's relationship. they were just friends. just friends. nothing more. they hadn't even seen each other in real life!

"how could she even think that!"

her voice bounces off the walls of her empty apartment. it had been almost a month since she and taehyung has last texted or talked. she's missing him. missing him badly. but it didn't make sense. she shouldn't be missing him this badly, they hadn't even seen each other in real life!

"this is stupid."

she closes the screen of her laptop and tosses it on top of the couch before standing up and heading towards the kitchen. she really needs a cup of coffee. the bitter kind. strong kind. no sugar. no milk. plain coffee with warm water. a voice spoke up.

"what's stupid?"

the unexpected voice startles her. she drops red mug and it shatters on the cream color tiled floor. she looks up and finds oliver standing there in his red-green flannel and skinny jeans, ripped from the knees. his brown hair was uncombed, as usual, and unkept, as usual as well.

"sorry. i didn't mean to startle you."

"what the hell are you doing here!"

"your front door was open. you should close it someone could just walk in without asking."

"giving an example of your self? tch, funny guy."

she kneels down and starts picking up the broken pieces of the mug. oliver helps and continues to speak.

"so, what were you saying?"

"non of your bees wax."

"do you normally talk to yourself? you know it's only excepted to talk to yourself if you have an animal with you."

"funny guy."

"are you normally this sarcastic?"

"it runs in my blood."

"funny."

"look, i'd love to chat but i need to—wait. no. i don't love to chat. just get out."

"no."

he smirks at her when she looks up at him through the hair falling around her face. she was truly beautiful... even if she looked like she was going to brutally murder someone with a fork.

"i'm not in the mood to play games right now. so get the hell out of my house before i—"

she flinches and flicks her hand away from the broken piece of glass. she cut herself. the tip of her ring finger starts to bloom with fresh blood. oliver pulls out his handkerchief and takes her hand in his, dabbing the cloth over her cut.

"you should be more careful..."

"says the guy who dropped a test tube full of god knows what into my coffee."

"you're still mad about that?"

"then made the coffee spill onto my white jeans. am i mad? yes. do i wanna chuck you out of my window? yes."

"haha, looks like i'm not the only funny one around here."

both of them stand up. sandara holds his handkerchief against her injured finger and makes through her maze of a house to the closest bathroom (the apartment was made for more than one individual). oliver follows with both hands in his pocket. she reaches the bathroom and unwraps her finger, leaving the stained cloth on the marble surface. she hisses as the lukewarm water touches her skin.