❝You taste like oranges❞
A boy with a peculiar obsession, an illness that ivolves around him and his sudden urge to eat, or taste, oranges.
A girl with a challenging heart and a curious mind, who's nothing less than complicated, and so is he, tho...
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Sora
His perfume was soaked into my pillow, the soft flower scent of the spring wind that hid under his musk. I gripped the sheets tightly, pulling them close and closing my eyes for the milionth time that night. I'd been sleepless for days. Missing him was harder than expected. It was almost cruel; the game the universe was playing against us. Yet somehow it was comforting because no matter how far apart we were, feet glued onto the ground we always managed to run into eachothers arms; and being tested never felt so right before. The moonlight crept in through the gaps in the blinds, and the loneliness residing in my heart became more evident. I gripped my T-shirt, holding in a tear which threatened to escape. My thoughts had been colourless, monotone, everything in my sight dying when I set my eyes on it. I was poisonous. Thinking of when I'd touch him next, if that would ever happen, if I'd ever hear a bird sing another song. Everything around me; grey. The pinks, the blues, the yellows, non-existent as everything had been drained of it's colour. It became boring, life. Infact—I couldn't fathom the exact moment it had happed—but my heart had stopped, even for a little. If not, the feeling was too vibrant to be fake. I was breathing, but I wasn't alive. The difference was crucial. Eventually his scent had faded, whether my tears had drained it out or just the air I was unsure, but without it the insomnia only worsened.
and he still wasn't here.
Jungkook was asleep in his own bed dreaming of something out of my reach. Perhaps I could just jump in them, force myself into his mind. But it would be of no use. If Jeon Jungkook didn't remember me, nothing I could do would be worth it.
Then again, I'd die for him. I knew he would too, somehow. I didn't know why but I knew. I knew if a bullet came flying through my window, breaking it to shards he'd be here to take it for me. If he'd die for me, waking up for me didn't seem like a stretch. It was a simple favor by a very complicated individual to another.
Grabbing my phone from the bed side table I turned the screen on, the presence of the light momentarily blinding me.
— <3 1:07
— you awake too? 1:07
—it seems so. 1:08
—why? 1:09
Why? I hadn't realised until that moment, but the boy himself was keeping me sleepless. Not in the way I wished — it was better to say that the lack of him was. I craved him, I missed him, his warmth. How would I tell him that? How would I tell him that I did after so long? But after a day of being bold, it must've been easier.
— i miss you. 1:12
The answer was simple. Simple but real. His reply never came, but the hope inside me didn't wither. It was there, waiting. It will come. I thought. It's only coming late.
