I fantasized a lot about you.

About how I could just lie on the bed, watching Sherlock through my phone and you lay down beside me, head on my chest and our sides pressing against each other. You’d have a book in your hand ㅡ my book which you randomly found on the back of my shelf and snickered at how late I was because she had finished the episode 2 weeks ago.

“Work!” I’d say in defense and you would just scoff and peck my lips afterwards.

I fantasized a lot about you.

About how we would look so good walking hand in hand, going in a venture for coffee shops hunt. It was only 4 PM but we already had our 3rd caffeine intake.

“You definitely won’t sleep tonight,” you shook your head, taking a sip of your flat white.

“We definitely won’t sleep tonight,” I complied, staring at the lipstick stain at your cup.

I fantasized a lot about you.

About how it rained so hard when I was at your place. We were at the kitchen, deciding on a bowl of instant noodle.

“Very healthy,” I snickered and you threw a couch pillow at me.

I would circle my arms around your waist from the back because when it was just the two of us, I couldn’t stand any gap between us. And you would rest your head against my shoulder as we slow-danced to an unknown jazz song.

We would burst out into a fit of laughter afterwards, because neither of us could dance or liked jazz.

I fantasized a lot about you.

About the idea of us and how it was so beautiful inside my head.

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