[00.47] all my mornings are mondays in endless february
song illustration drabble of fortnight by taylor swift
Wonwoo stared at the steel wired telephone, feeling the cold breezed through his leather jacket, the same type of cold her shoulder gave him two nights ago when they last met.
“I’m sorry, that’s all I could say.” He broke the silence, stopping her tracks though her back was still facing him.
She didn’t turn around. Her long black hair was then dyed into ash brown, her locks framing her face to make into bangs that made her unrecognisable at first glance—but not to him.
He saw her took a deep breath before she shifted her heels to step forward, then another, and another. Every step bringing her further from him, leaving him behind, as her past.
What he didn’t know was, how tears started streaming down her cheeks continuously as she continued to walk away from him.
No one seemed to realise that she was crying her way through her heart. He was someone she loved—hell, love, still. The miracle move on drugs weren’t doing their magic the second his eyes locked into hers for a split second before she walked past him earlier.
Wonwoo stood still where he was, hearing ablaze silence of “I love you, it’s ruining my life.” Screamed at him all over again, exactly like the first night he didn’t expect her to confess.
She had her things packed and ready to live up to their better expectations than his empty promises and quiet treasons.
For a fortnight there, they were together forever—better in his regretful memoirs.
He pushed another coin and pressed her dial numbers in, clearing his throat as he waited for her mailbox to chime in.
“I thought of calling you.. but you won’t pick up, so I’m here. Hi.”
Another coin..
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Another one..
“I bought the car you wanted, but uh- it won’t start up, I guess it’s ‘cause you’re no longer here with me.”
There were no one to blame but their lost fortnights.
