#butok

and even tho im very very glad to be out of that relationship it does kinda sting not having someone to look forward to talk to, someone with whom u can share anything, someone who'll love you for who you are

The weekend is just another name for another tiring day for her. If she is willing to make a list of her long-ass activities, it is probably longer than her pay bills for living. Start with a boss who is actually a dictator, a never-ending complainer yet grumpy client, an unreliable partner, and many more. Her head going to explode even though she only thought about it.

After ten minutes through the apartment lobby to her apartment room on the twelve floor, finally; home sweet home. Doesn’t care about how pricey the bag that just been thrown, or how high the heels she just kicks away, she unties her hair carelessly and then goes straight to the bathroom. A shower is the only thing that can help.

Towel in her head, a bathrobe wraps around her body. She reaches the walking closet lifelessly. Planned to pick random clothes but canceled when her eyes locked on a white shirt that hung tidily. As fast as June’s weather changed, she reaches it. A zesty lemon note, joined by a crisp juicy green apple, and a spice of mint leaves reached her sense of smell straight away.

The sense of longing finds all the way.

With her favorite grey inner top, she wears his shirt without buttoning it. That is joined by the same color as her inner short pants. A kitchen bar is a place where she zones out. Recall all memorable moments filled with days that were spent together. She smiles as remembers how big his smile is once she did something funny or just simply at whatever she done.

The crescent on her lips remains for an hour, as she pours another white wine into her glass, and forth. Sometimes giggles come out of her mouth. Either hallucination has been formed or she truly sends a text to him, but the liquid effect makes her could not stop smiling. Even when her clumsy side takes over, opens her apartment door without proper clothes on, or eyeing the door hole.

There, right in front of the door, stood a man who is the reason for her smile for the last hour. With black jeans, a black t-shirt, and black flannel as the outer, he throws a hello but nervous smile. She gasps but still smiled, even bigger, like a fool. Then walks into her room right away, letting him in and please close the door through her gesture.

He walks behind her with a head full of questions. Sudden turnover from her is all the answer that he needed,

“Am I dreaming are you really here?”

smells of alcohol. Nods from him are another answer that she needs. With no thoughts in zero distance of time, she puts her arms on his neck and tiptoes to hug him tight.

“I wear your shirt because it smells like you, then here you are, still smelling the same also huggable as ever.”

“I still use the same perfume since you said it’s your favorite.”

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