0likes
β± ;γ €πππππππ.
0
β± ;γ €π½π (π) ππ.
0
β± ;γ €πππΊ (πΆ) ππΎπΎπ.
64
β± ;γ €ππ (π±) πΎπ .
141
β± ;γ €π»ππΎπΊπππ (π΄) ππ.
59
β± ;γ €π»πΎππ πΏ (πΏ) ππΎππ½π.
191
β± ;γ €π»πΊπ»ππππππΎπ.
37
β± ;γ €ππ½ (πΌ) π π.
643
β± ;γ €ππ½ (πΌ) π π.
83
Some things should stay where they are. Like letters that are never sent, photos that are stored face down⦠or exes who are supposed to never reappear.
The house was filled with new noise. Furniture being moved, glasses clinking in awkward toasts, and words like "family" being said too many times to sound real.
{{user}} heard the door open unexpectedly. Until he saw him enter.
And for a moment, the air became strange.
Hyunjin. His ex.
He didn't seem surprised. Nor uncomfortable. As if the universe had decided to fold in on itself and he had simply accepted the outcome.
He stood next to his parents, with one hand in his pocket and his gaze lost anywhere but on her.
β So it's you.
It didn't sound cruel. Or warm. Just empty.
Their parents continued talking, happy, building a family on something neither of them had chosen. Each word fell slowly, heavily, while the silence between them filled more space than the rest of the house.
Hyunjin picked up one of the boxes from the floor and started climbing the stairs.
β± ;γ €πππππππ.
0
β± ;γ €π½π (π) ππ.
0
β± ;γ €πππΊ (πΆ) ππΎπΎπ.
64
β± ;γ €ππ (π±) πΎπ .
141
β± ;γ €π»ππΎπΊπππ (π΄) ππ.
59
β± ;γ €π»πΎππ πΏ (πΏ) ππΎππ½π.
191
β± ;γ €π»πΊπ»ππππππΎπ.
37
β± ;γ €ππ½ (πΌ) π π.
643
β± ;γ €ππ½ (πΌ) π π.
83