Questions rise in the absence of a direct gaze, the skeletons she’s buried underneath looking her right in the eye, waiting. The realization doesn’t hit her abruptly; only the most gradual tipping of the scales and it’s not in her favor, a deadweight kind of ache pressing against her chest as a result, deliberately. Putting up pretenses would only make this harder. But it’s the only thing she does, the only thing she’s come to know around him.
“Alright.”
A nod, a gentle smile, and her face suddenly feels like it’s not her own; the skin too tight, the mouth too stiff. Funny how it’s all come down to this — drawing out masks in the wake of irony, a game of playing pretend.
( Don’t waste your pity. )
After all, it’s nothing that she hasn’t done before —
Is it?
She makes her way to the exit leisurely, only stopping briefly to make sure he’s following. The hallway is emptying out, any stranglers few and far in between. Background noise had been reduced to listless static, a restless kind of silence that’s ever so heavy, ever so present.
For a few lingering moments there’s nothing else heard but the padding of their footsteps, uniform, in time with each other’s. Each one is a reminder, a ghost of some faint memory that returns in some vivid apparition. “Remember this? Remember that?” — remnants of polaroid nostalgia once flickering bright now fine, thin shreds at the bottom of the wastebin; ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
She shoves her hands into the pocket, fingers curled into tight fists. She needs a smoke. Space. Something, anything to remedy this sudden sensation of queasiness. She opens her mouth, round and readied with an excuse — a few words and the turn of her heels. The project isn’t due for another week. This could wait, they can wait, save this for another day —
“This is going to be fun.” The all too somber mood, broken abruptly by one sentence — caught with a sarcastic sort of bluntness that sounds a tad too harsh. Shit. So much for showing enthusiasm.
She clears her throat; a sparing attempt to make it look like it was all intended. “Though I don’t think you’ll have much to worry about —” The shadow of a grin returns, teasing. She means well, she really does ( it’s the least that he deserves ). "You’ve always been good with this history stuff.“
It was almost suffocating the way the air had gotten so thick between them.
There was once a time where the chatter would be endless, teases and taunts with flirtatious air exchanged with affectionate glances and light pushes and shenanigans acted as ways to simply touch the other. Times when he’d get caught with his phone camera turned her way to gather more candids for his then growing archive of photos organized into a folder entitled fondly: Jiminy. The name alone was a play upon hers but was always said with the utmost adoration, the same smitten mentality expressed in a brief meeting of their eyes but even more tenderly in sweetly exchanged kisses.
But, as he experienced time and time again, all good things eventually crashed and burned.
A gaze that he once could not tear away from her now could barely glance at her for fear of the questions pounding against the forefront of his mind breaking through and bursting forth from his lips, souring a mood that already imposed discomfort upon the both of them. Things were different now but he did not seek to beckon pity nor guilt from her. He wanted answers there was no doubt but his pride would not allow for the weakness that had been ingrained in him to show, especially not before her. A grain of salt was added to the wound each time he looked at her and he’d had his fill. He’d coped as best he could without proper closure and he was prepared to leave it where it was. It was where she wanted it.
His steps fell into stride alongside hers but it was all he noticed among the silence that was bestowed upon them. The steady muted thud of dress shoes upon the polished tiles and the quiet shuffle of bookbags with bodily movement. No words. No looks.
It was driving him insane.
This form of awkwardness was so out of place for them that he was not sure what to do to alleviate things and put them back to casual exchanges and the option of opting out entirely crossed his mind. Perhaps a saving text sent from Tai or an urgent call from Seunghoon would come his way to free him from the awkward barriers that had been put up but alas no such text and no such call came. However, a voice did.
The laugh burst from him as if it had been lying in wait, the relatable tone in her voice cracking the ice that was so desperately needed. It was light and short lived but much needed, a concurring nod of his head dipped in response. It was clear there was not exact excitement for the experience and that the struggle was palpable and there simply was no bullshitting that but the desire to make the best of it was even stronger it seemed.
He smiled hearing her point as it was a good one, his bag brought up more upon his shoulders in minor pride juxtaposing his words. “You lucked out then. You always were bad at it.” A gentle tease but was it too soon? Regret settled lightly in hindsight but he did not let it deter him. “We could make it about something you want though so you won’t completely die of boredom.” Even post-relationship, his first priority remained her. Perhaps habitual but who was to say?
annaxmalina
yousharknotpass
areudirty
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
2087
