monday
park jisung x gn!reader
angst
warnings: none
~580 words
Jisung has always hated Mondays. Absolutely despised them. He always believed them to be one of the most truly awful things about life, but you were enough to convince him that they weren’t so bad, after all.
It was a Monday when you confessed to him, all shy glances and flustered beyond belief, stuttering over your words as you told him you’ve had a crush on him for a while now and wanted to know if he would like to go on a date with you sometime. Jisung was stunned, to put it lightly. You, the person he’s been in love with for as long as he could remember, liked him? Impossible. He didn’t even think you knew his name, let alone had feelings for him!
Of course, Jisung accepted, and the date was set for the following Monday at a nearby coffee shop after both of your classes for the day were finished.
He was looking forward to it all week. Panicked researching on how to do a first date, emergency FaceTime calls to Chenle asking for his opinion on potential outfits, and staring at your brand new contact in his phone and wanting to talk to you about just how excited he was for your date but not wanting to seem like a creep texting you all the time were what got him through it. He was practically vibrating in nerves Sunday night. He’d never wished for it to be a Monday before in his life, but that was all before you.
Don’t ask Jisung what any of his classes covered that Monday because he was too busy trying not to die of cardiac arrest the entire time. He stared at his phone all day, watching the minutes slowly and painfully creep by, until he finally was done. He nearly sprinted to the cafe, trying so hard to not crumple the flowers he picked up for you on the way there (he read online that flowers are always a good option). He knew your class didn’t let out until a little bit after his, so Jisung placed himself at a table by the window so he could see when you came and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Jisung waited like a fool until the cafe closed that night, trying to ignore the pitiful stares of the baristas and hiding his face in a textbook, pretending to study but really trying to conceal the teetering tears on the edges of his eyes. Every call he made to you went to voicemail. Every text he sent, the only response he would get was a read receipt.
Only after he was kicked out from the cafe and trying to figure out how to get home safely despite public transportation being shut down for the night did everything click into place for him. You played him, dangled him along in your game and pretended to care for him only to leave him high and dry, embarrassed and ashamed, for whatever cruel enjoyment you would get out of it. Snatched his heart and abandoned it in scraps on the ground. For fun? For revenge? Who knows. Jisung didn’t care anymore. He didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.
He laughed, bitterness dripping off of him. He left the flowers in some random sidewalk garden.
Jisung hated Mondays. Absolutely despised them. They were truly one of the most awful things about life, and you were more than enough to convince him of that.
