Name of my Love | on hold

thirteen

Odd hours

Two days. And I haven't yet gotten over the silhouette of the man, but interestingly I have figured out the details and I'm now pretty sure that it was the creepy guy I had encountered the other day in the shopping mall. His image perfectly fits into into the outline I remember. He was talking about Sparks club, it's confirmed.

It's half past two in the morning and I'm not able to sleep because my body clock adjusted to sleeping past three. All thanks to the numerous sleepless nights in a row.

I'm sick of over-thinking and somehow I really do want to forget everything I recollected with the hope that I'd feel much relieved and better, but perhaps, some things are bound to happen no matter how much we try to avoid them. Running away was never the solution and it never will be until and unless the situation is too extreme to settle in without an escape plan.

"Why am I so complex?" I whine out, taking a mental step aback and re-evaluating the events which I can barely recall. Who am I? I roll to the other side and kick the comforter off me in frustration. I'm lately having a lot of mood swings, and in no way I want Jungkook to know about it.

Compartmentalizing my sprinting thoughts, I scoot off my bed as my dried throat urges to tarnish itself with moisture.

I glance at the wall clock stuck opposite to the bed once again to confirm the time. It's hard to believe but I'm not dizzy. I tip toe downstairs making sure I do not generate noise while passing through Jungkook's bedroom door. I know that this guy usually has a very light and virtual sleep, and even a dropping of pin can wake him up.

Down my way through the living room, to my surprise – as I pivot my head towards the fridge – I see him buried under it; fumbling inside.

I slowly saunter in the direction counting each step as my heart beats pick up a pace contrasting to my very lethargic strides. Loud. It's weird.

As soon as the lights of the fridge go off on its closure, he turns in my way and gets startled which is why he inadvertently flinches, and his fluffy hair bounces in the act. I suppress a laughter and whisper a 'sorry' for appearing out of the blue.

"God...Sky," he slowly starts, "why are you awake?"

"Says who?"

"Well, I was thinking about you..." He pauses – meanwhile my heart skips a beat – as if a sudden wave of realization sparked within him, he elaborates,"..you know, everything is complicated. I can't come up with any unique sort of romantic plot."

I silently read his faintly visible expressions under the very low intensity of light, coming somewhere from outside. His hairs are messily spread all over and little of his usually curtailed forehead is visible. Very unnecessary to report but like always he looks captivating. But did he just change the topic purposely? Like from me to something really different. Or was it just by mistake.

"You're very determinate and hardworking. I'm impressed but really, you need to stop thinking and let things come naturally to you."

He nods, "but what about you?"

"Well, I was just wondering about my past..."

"Did you recall anything? "

I gulp.

"Nothing too serious to worry about." I give him a tight-lipped smile, forcing on my face, "by the way pass me a bottle please."

He opens the fridge and hands me one. "It's too chill. You might catch cold."