Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I woke up, vision a blur and with a painful, throbbing headache.
Groaning out curses, I tried sitting up a little too quickly which resulted in the blanket covering me, slipping off of my body and forming a puddle of cotton on my bedroom floor. I was quick to pick it up and wrap my naked self up like a burrito.
I sat on my bed for a moment, cuddled up but still cold for some reason until the memories of last night caught up to my brain and I my eyes darted to the other side of the bed.
Empty. Cold sheets. No Taehyung.
It took me a while to recall everything that had happened, my hands dreamily reached out to the part of the bed Taehyung had been sleeping on, only to be met with nothing but a cold pillow and sheets. Not even his warmth was there to remind me of him. I blinked my eyes, surrounded by darkness, sitting on my empty bed all alone and wondered whether he had ever been here at all.
The idea of him being in my room and sleeping in my bed with me started to seem so odd to me that the memory of last night reshaped into something of a daydream. I gently rubbed my eyes and switched the light on, it took my eyes a second to adjust but when they focused again I realized that I was truly and definitely alone.
I stayed completely still, muting my swirling thoughts to listen for any noise coming from the bathroom or maybe even from downstairs. Nothing.
Since I didn't trust my own brain, especially not in a hungover state like now, I let my eyes scan the room for evidence, any evidence. Just anything that could prove he was really ever here. I opened my blinds and let the room get flooded by bright daylight.
There must've been something to catch my eye, after all, we slept with each other again and were both drunk, no way could he not have left a single trace.
His clothes were gone, so was the used condom I remembered he had carelessly tossed to the floor last night. My own clothes were still sprawled out on the floor exactly as I had left them. But all his stuff was gone.
Out of nowhere, something caught my eye.
A green post-it note was stuck to my door. Rubbing my temples in an attempt to calm my headache, I slowly got up, sheets still tightly snug around my body. With a sigh I grabbed the little sticky note.
A phone number. His phone number. Nothing else. Not even signed with his name.
A frown took over my face. This was my proof. So if it had all really happened, why did he leave?
