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09 | disappear / reappear
A part of her was mortified. The other more dominant part was elated.
There was another picture of her and Doyoung kissing. This one, she didn't look taken aback. She had leaned into it, lips parted and eyes closed. Her hands had gripped the collar of his shirt, as though he couldn't get close enough.
And Doyoung was kissing her back. The crinkle in the corner of his eye hinted at a previous smile. And his arms had snaked about her waist, as though to pull her nearer.
Biting her lip, she switched to Twitter. A fan account had snapped a photo of Doyoung the morning after. He wore a coat with a tall collar, a thick-brimmed hat, sunglasses, and a face mask. He kept his head down, shoulders slumped. He looked miserable.
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Jia felt miserable. It had been several days since that night in the hotel, and a million times she'd stared at her phone, at his number.
She wanted to call. She didn't want to. She needed to hear his voice. She couldn't hear his voice.
That night had come back to her in fractures that she had to sew together. Once the picture was complete, she replayed it. She loved it. She couldn't believe it.
And she hated that she'd left without so much as a goodbye.
Her exhale turned into a raspberry, and she slammed her head onto her desk.
She didn't understand why she'd disappeared like that. Shame, she supposed, for everything that had happened. Mortification, she guessed, if someone found out and it ruined Doyoung.
To protect him, Na Jia had to disappear. And it sucked majorly.
{ ǝ ɯ ǝ ɯ }
After yet another unsuccessful interview, the last thing Jia wanted to do was answer the phone. But a double-take informed her that she recognized the number, knew it intimately now.
Heart in her throat, constricting it, she answered with shaking hands.
"Na Jia."
"Yes."
"We need to meet."
She swallowed hard. "I don't think—"
"What are you doing right now?"
She opened her mouth to respond but he said, "Let me guess: you're standing outside a building, phone pressed to your ear, heels hurting your feet. You wish you brought an umbrella."
She whipped around. In the distance, across the street, an umbrella lifted to reveal Kim Doyoung, phone to his ear and a crooked grin on his lips.
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With a quiet gasp, she rushed toward him.
;;
a/n: next chapter is the last chapter. and yes, this ff is short but i planned it to have only 10 chapters and the next chapter will be chapter 10. so yeah.
(how many times can passionfruit say "chapter" in just two sentences? the answer: 5)
