your option

「nine」

Disclaimer ; this chapter might disappoint readers.

"Hmm..." a groggy groan was released from his lips as his body turned to the other side of the bed, stoic from the untreated bruises. Eyes reluctantly opened and took in every ray of the sunlight that had peeked through the window. Without wondering how long he'd been sleeping, he pulled the duvet over his head.

Soon, he roused himself from deep slumber. He winced at the aching of his temple. Although he was aware of his pounding head feeling like it would swell beyond the capacity of his skull, his stomach lurched and turned in an unfriendly way.

Once his bare feet swung on the bedroom floor, a slight throb of pain in his temples made him wince. He ran a hand through his messy and unfixed hair as he paced into the bathroom. Looking at the huge mirror, he splashed cold water on his face to lessen the pain at least. He paused and tried to recall anything that had happened last night. 

"I love you, Jisoo." 

A fresh-faced, petite girl with long eyelashes fluttering over her black, vague orbs, slim and small nose, peaked lilac-soft lips, and naturally rosy cheeks stood under his eyes. The drunkenness flowing through his veins must've created an perfect illusion as he somehow found deep yearning in her. Unconsciously, his eyes began to water. With longing and sadness, he caressed her cheeks as he looked deeply into her eyes. 

Until he found himself being pushed against the wall and was slapped afterwards. Recovering from the abrupt action, he turned only to see the stranger running away from the scene.

He breathed out in disappointment. Realizing that he had done yet another stupid thing. He was drunk and kissed a random girl, thinking she was her. Great shock was evident in her face as though it was her first. Tough luck, he had no idea about that stranger. He sincerely felt sorry for being a jerk. 

Deciding to take a bath, he stepped into the shower. Its valve was turned, releasing thousands of tepid drops of water. They soaked his hair wet and dripped by his sides and down his back. His eyes were shut, trying to get the previous night's scenes out of his mind.  

"Pull yourself together, mister."

That voice continued ringing his head. He can't help but slightly smile at thought. The stranger was worried in some ways that she even took the drunk man with her and bought him a recovery drink. If it was another girl, she might have brought him somewhere else and took advantage of his insobriety. 

After a quick bath, he grabbed a clean, white towel neatly folded and hung on the rack and dried himself. He was in his school uniform with a pair of white sneakers. Not wearing his blazer, he let his neck tie loose, but he was dashing nonetheless. 

Finishing his morning routines, he carried his bag and took hold of his phone. As much as he wanted to drive to school, he couldn't, because his mom refrained him from doing so. Not even a motorbike. 

After six months of staying at Canada, he returned home a day ago, leaving his family. He lived alone in an apartment, which his parents bought. Their house was pretty much far from his school so he suggested having his own place. It was actually huge; an executive studio unit with one bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and dining area, and a living room. At first, he'd argue with his mother and insist of purchasing a small studio type apartment; however, she wanted her son to live comfortably, especially that his family wouldn't stay with him.

Taking the bus to school, he sat near the window and scanned through his inbox. 

He smiled bitterly. It's funny how he continued sending messages to her despite of being ignored, but he'd still hope for something that was obviously futile. He hadn't heard any news about her  from anyone since his return. He'd do anything to see her, but often failed. He even had the thought of giving up.