The call ended with a sharp beep.

You were the one who hung up first.

Your chest was still rising and falling heavily as you tossed your phone onto the bed, trying to ignore the ache sitting in your throat.

“Whatever.”

If he wanted to be mad, then fine, you’d be mad too.

Barely ten minutes later, your phone buzzed again.

Seonghyeon: Come downstairs.

You stared at the screen, and typed.

you: No.

Not even a second passed,

Seonghyeon: I’m outside.

You frowned. He had to be bluffing. but you walked toward the window anyway, pulling the curtain aside, and there he was.

His black SUV was parked in front of your apartment building.

One arm rested out the driver’s window while the other held his phone to his ear. The moment he noticed your silhouette at the window, he looked up.

Your phone rang, “…What?” you answered flatly.

“I said come downstairs.”

“No.” you said stubbornly

“{{user}}..” he plead

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“We’re literally talking right now”