Love is indeed a weird thing. It comes from the least place you can think of. It comes as unpredictable as it goes away. It also … sometimes, exists to bind two people in one purpose, and exists to get acknowledged by only one from two, and exists to … never bloom.
There were three big reasons why he avoided drinking. First, the damn hangover. He could never get used to the sharp banging pain in his head that lasts for a whole day—he never wanted to. Second, he didn’t remember a single thing after the first gulp. As soon as consciousness hit him, he felt anxious as fuck for whatever was coming for the last night drunk act—whether he killed a random stray cat or declared war to neighbor country. And third, had to hear an earful nagging while having the hangover, which was worst of all. He barely woke up a few seconds ago, but the hammering sensation in his head already hoarded him like a pack of wolves. He whined—which he regretted in no time as any kind of sound including his own voice worsening the pain—and peeked through his half-opened eyes to find out who the hell opened the damn curtain. A figure of thin petite girl in an oversized sweater loomed over him. She crossed her arms and stared down with the usual even countenance. Thank God it was her, versus, oh no it was her.Read More »