ficlet; call me call me girl
exo/f(x), sehun/krystal, 700 words, pg-13
inspired by tintap's be ma girl in general and this line in particular; call me call me girl, don’t worry about it and come to me
When she finally turns her phone back on, there are no new messages. No texts. No missed calls.
The days are long. All counted minutes down to late enough to get to go to bed. (Sixty on an hour. Eighthundred on a day.) All counted minutes down to those nine, ten hours when she doesn’t have to think when she doesn’t have to feel when she can be somewhere else, someone else, when she can just go along with whatever her sleeping brain makes believe for her, (when she can be numb, be gone,) but never stops waking up to stare into the faceless ceiling and realize that it’s all to have it start over again, and again and again. Days and days and weeks and months and then you die, it’s only stops on a straight lane. Having killed time feels like an accomplishment, but where is she actually going, where is she striving, where is she wishing to end up. What does she want with it. Tomorrow is just another day.
She watches movie after movie but they never take her away listens to song after song but they never shut her off takes step after step but they never let her go.
What does it even matter that nobody cares.
She stares at him after opening the door. Of all people?
“Uh.” He says. “Hi.”
“Why aren’t you in school?” She says.
“Why aren’t you in school?” He says. His brows are knitted in a tight line over his eyes, but Krystal knows that’s pretty much just how he looks.
“I’m cutting.”
Sehun blinks down at Krystal’s knees and gives a shrug. “Me too.” The tip of a tongue slips out to slide along a small bottom lip, and then be jerked back. He swallows on something small. “Can I come in?”
She casts a look back over her shoulder, mainly by reflex. The blinds are pulled, a collection of glasses standing naked in the cold TV glow. The air is thick and heavy. She sticks her toes into her shoes. “Let’s go out instead.”
He has a sharp smell. Unfamiliar, and obtrusive up close like this. He fiddles with his cellphone, flipping it open and shut in his palm, twirling it around, browsing something through. He has no errand. Not bringing homework, not delivering a message, not checking on her.
“So why the fuck are you here?” She asks.
He shrugs. Fiddles some more, eyes downcast. So his hand tips to the side, just faintly. It takes Krystal a moment to realize that it’s a gesture.
“What?” She says.
It tips again, vaguely cocks in her direction. The tongue works against the upper lip. She whips out a hand and snatches the phone from his. He twitches a little.
unsent messages says the folder, unsent messages and
thursday6-18.11 hey how are you saturday8-17.41 how are u doing tuesday11-10.52 if you feel like talking tuesday11-12.22 if you ever friday14-14.34 are you coming tonight saturday15-13.21 too bad you couldn’t make it monday17-20.37 if you ever feel like talking, you can call me tuesday18-21.29 sorry if this is weird but if you ever feel like talking, you can just call me thursday20-20.48 sorry if this is weird but i'm always here if you feel like talking friday21-22.47 call me friday21-22.58 i would call you but i friday21-23.19 call me please friday21-23.31 call me call me call me friday21-23.47 i'm sorry i know i can't do anything but i wish i could fix saturday22-00.04 i want to talk to you saturday22-00.09 i wish you were here i wish i could be with you, when you feel like shit i feel like shit too, and maybe we could at least feel like shit together saturday22-00.21 i'm sorry i'm fucking pathetic but i monday24-15.48 i'm sorry i know i can't do anything but i wish i could, you know it's gonna be ok, call me call me don’t worry about it just come to me let me
“Oh.” Krystal says.
“Uh.” Sehun says. “Yeah.”
There is something thick and heavy in her throat. It doesn’t want to be swallowed down. “You know this doesn’t actually change anything, right.”
Sehun shrugs. “I know.”
inspired by tintap's be ma girl in general and this line in particular; call me call me girl, don’t worry about it and come to me
When she finally turns her phone back on, there are no new messages. No texts. No missed calls.
The days are long. All counted minutes down to late enough to get to go to bed. (Sixty on an hour. Eighthundred on a day.) All counted minutes down to those nine, ten hours when she doesn’t have to think when she doesn’t have to feel when she can be somewhere else, someone else, when she can just go along with whatever her sleeping brain makes believe for her, (when she can be numb, be gone,) but never stops waking up to stare into the faceless ceiling and realize that it’s all to have it start over again, and again and again. Days and days and weeks and months and then you die, it’s only stops on a straight lane. Having killed time feels like an accomplishment, but where is she actually going, where is she striving, where is she wishing to end up. What does she want with it. Tomorrow is just another day.
She watches movie after movie but they never take her away listens to song after song but they never shut her off takes step after step but they never let her go.
What does it even matter that nobody cares.
She stares at him after opening the door. Of all people?
“Uh.” He says. “Hi.”
“Why aren’t you in school?” She says.
“Why aren’t you in school?” He says. His brows are knitted in a tight line over his eyes, but Krystal knows that’s pretty much just how he looks.
“I’m cutting.”
Sehun blinks down at Krystal’s knees and gives a shrug. “Me too.” The tip of a tongue slips out to slide along a small bottom lip, and then be jerked back. He swallows on something small. “Can I come in?”
She casts a look back over her shoulder, mainly by reflex. The blinds are pulled, a collection of glasses standing naked in the cold TV glow. The air is thick and heavy. She sticks her toes into her shoes. “Let’s go out instead.”
He has a sharp smell. Unfamiliar, and obtrusive up close like this. He fiddles with his cellphone, flipping it open and shut in his palm, twirling it around, browsing something through. He has no errand. Not bringing homework, not delivering a message, not checking on her.
“So why the fuck are you here?” She asks.
He shrugs. Fiddles some more, eyes downcast. So his hand tips to the side, just faintly. It takes Krystal a moment to realize that it’s a gesture.
“What?” She says.
It tips again, vaguely cocks in her direction. The tongue works against the upper lip. She whips out a hand and snatches the phone from his. He twitches a little.
unsent messages says the folder, unsent messages and
thursday6-18.11 hey how are you saturday8-17.41 how are u doing tuesday11-10.52 if you feel like talking tuesday11-12.22 if you ever friday14-14.34 are you coming tonight saturday15-13.21 too bad you couldn’t make it monday17-20.37 if you ever feel like talking, you can call me tuesday18-21.29 sorry if this is weird but if you ever feel like talking, you can just call me thursday20-20.48 sorry if this is weird but i'm always here if you feel like talking friday21-22.47 call me friday21-22.58 i would call you but i friday21-23.19 call me please friday21-23.31 call me call me call me friday21-23.47 i'm sorry i know i can't do anything but i wish i could fix saturday22-00.04 i want to talk to you saturday22-00.09 i wish you were here i wish i could be with you, when you feel like shit i feel like shit too, and maybe we could at least feel like shit together saturday22-00.21 i'm sorry i'm fucking pathetic but i monday24-15.48 i'm sorry i know i can't do anything but i wish i could, you know it's gonna be ok, call me call me don’t worry about it just come to me let me
“Oh.” Krystal says.
“Uh.” Sehun says. “Yeah.”
There is something thick and heavy in her throat. It doesn’t want to be swallowed down. “You know this doesn’t actually change anything, right.”
Sehun shrugs. “I know.”