In which
He has spent years making sure she never forgets him.
or
In which
She has spent years hating him
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Sooah has always despised Jake-her brother's best friend and the guy who's made it his life's mission to tease her at every opportuni...
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🩷༘⋆
Every Breath You Take -
⊹ ࣪ ˖₊"(Every breath you take) (Every move you make)"˚⊹⋆
✮✮✮
The days that followed were... strange, to say the least.
I couldn't shake the conversation with Jay from my mind. The way he'd looked at me, that desperate concern in his eyes. I hated it. Hated how he seemed to think he knew what was best for me. It made me angry, and yet, at the same time, I felt a little guilty. Was I really making a mistake?
I tried to distract myself, but no matter how hard I focused on school or hanging out with Minji, my thoughts always circled back to Jake.
I had told myself that I wasn't going to let myself fall for him, but that was becoming increasingly harder to do. Every time I saw him, I felt like I was getting closer to crossing a line that I couldn't uncross.
And now... now things had gotten even more complicated.
The text message from Jake that morning had caught me off guard.
"Hey, Sooah. I was thinking we should talk. I'll pick you up after school. Let me know if that works for you."
I'd stared at the message for a long moment, unsure of what to make of it. We'd barely spoken since that night, that moment—when everything had felt like it was teetering on the edge of something much bigger than just a fake relationship.
I wanted to ignore him. I wanted to pretend that I hadn't felt that pull, that magnetic force that seemed to draw me toward him no matter how much I resisted. But I couldn't.
So I'd replied, telling him it was fine. I needed answers, even if I wasn't ready for what they might be.
After school, I met him by his car, my heart racing. When I saw him leaning against the door, casually scrolling through his phone, I felt that familiar ache in my chest. His jawline, sharp and defined, his messy hair, always effortlessly styled. The way he carried himself like he owned the world—it was hard not to notice.
He looked up as I approached, and for a second, our eyes met, and something unspoken passed between us. He smiled, but it wasn't his usual cocky grin. There was something different about it, something softer.
"Hey," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.
"Hey."
I couldn't look him in the eye for long. I hated how flustered he made me feel.
He opened the car door for me, and I slipped inside, suddenly aware of how close he was as he slid into the driver's seat. We didn't say anything for the entire ride, and I was thankful for that. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say, or even what I wanted to say.
