❝I seriously hate your guts,❞
❝The question is, can i rearrange yours?❞
* ༉‧₊˚ | in which two
stubborn assholes
are expected
to work together
through their
hatred for one
another.
under major editing!
mature content discussed.
reader discretion...
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now playing | only the beginning. 2:32 ——⊙———— -3:50 ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ
tw: mentions of S*xual harassment
status : unedited.
"Get your fucking hand off me," He growled lowly.
Jisung's left eye twitched as he muttered the poisonous words through gritting teeth. He felt himself tensing harshly— doing all that he can to maintain the screaming that pounded against his front skull.
Shocked, Haneul froze. Warily, her eyes shook as she raked them over his new persona. Something was off. "Jisung, I thought you wanted to—" She swore he was the person who asked her to come here, yet it felt like the opposite had happened.
The blonde laughed sarcastically whilst retracting his hand back to himself— feeling the skin of his body part sear with hatred.
He's never wanted to be far away from someone so much until today, and it showed on his face. His knitted brows, and bored expression suggested his negative emotions against the woman sat in front of him, and it was oddly much fiercer than any stare of any ordinary ex.
But, of course, their relationship was not very ordinary.
"You think I actually wanted to get back with you?" He chuckled darkly as he leant lazily back into his chair.
The male's aura was suffocating, his presence loomed over the conversation, and she could practically hear his anger rattle the bones beneath his tainted skin. "I would never allow myself to be seen with you again. This is the last time i'll ever let you be in my presence, because honestly, it's already revolting to even look at you,"
"What?" The blonde female's moth fell, and her lips parted in surprise.
"I know what you did last summer," Haneul felt her entire life flash before her eyes. Perspiration built at her hairline, and her heart thrashed at her ribcage— it becoming too painful to withstand. But she sat frozen.
Perhaps it was something else, right?
"What are you talking about, Sung?" Her nerves were too prominent to be layered over with the usual high pitch tone of her voice. They couldn't stay hidden, and it only made the man chuckle more.
She looked pathetic in his eyes. How could she even look herself in the mirror? How could she even stare back at him so unnerved?
