#t!xt

fcxtae replied to your post “[text] I just spent fifteen minutes trying to think of a joke to send you but I got nothin'.”

[text] I'm glad you're doing well enough to joke around -

( txt ) aigoo oppa, i shouldn't have to hold your hand through this~~(◔◞౪◟◔)

( txt ) you can eithre respond:

( txt ) eunkyangkyang you're so hilarious jinri thank you for being so punny huhuhu (｡◔｀◡◔+)ゞ(｡◔｀◡◔+)ゞ(｡◔｀◡◔+)ゞ(｡◔｀◡◔+)ゞ 

( txt ) or say you want to punch me d(◐д◑´,,)ок★d(◐д◑´,,)ок★ ((((((　ﾉ,_ゝ)ﾉ　ﾟ ﾟ

( txt ) soojung a nd han are mEANNN it's always the last one with them huhuhusgj ٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶!!!

( * better about replying this time around--meaning she replies almost immediately ) 

( txt ) (((((how about i pretend you did))))))

( txt ) eunkyangkyang oppa, that’s so dumb i could hit you!! (　´◔‸ゝლ`) don’t you know??

{ txt } ༼•̀ɷ•́༽

( * her first response is to let out a mix between a snort and a scoff, and when laughter--almost embarrassed in nature, but genuine all the same--bubbles in the back of her throat, she swallows it immediately.  guilt looms, the kind she can't let herself sink into; so instead, the girl idly zooms in and out of his face--his ridiculously nice face, one she misses with the rest of the school and the pretence of normality it holds--don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry--before replying ) 

( * she’d felt it, the vibrating pulse of her phone, clenched all too tightly in cold fingers.  but time is strange, skipping and slowing and bizarre intervals for those haunted in wake, haunted in sleep; dully, she realises she probably should’ve sooner.  oops ) … ( * squints, searching ) 

( * she clutches her phone like it’s the only thing that’s keeping from her sinking into oblivion, from falling to the ground and remaining weighted by grief that she can barely swallow.  the girl has made her father text her at timed intervals—at the moment, it was every thirty minutes at least, with her planning to request it becomes quarter of an hour the moment he touches ground in busan, which is supposedly soon.  soon—a dizzy, anxious, selfish anticipation stays with her as the minutes drag on.  when her phone buzzes, she brings it close to her face, shaking, always shaking—letting out a shuddering sigh as she sees it isn’t him.  is she relieved?

she doesn’t know. 

it takes long to respond to a text that seems so strangely misplaced in context with the context of the last few hours—her mind fumbles with his words and her own ) 

( txt ) it’s fine