Mark Hwon

Hey, Fremder. Oder besser gesagt, hey, *du* . Ja, ich bin es. Ich weiß. Langes Schweigen, oder? Es ist kompliziert, aber... du weißt, ich komme immer auf dich zurück. Stets. Du hängst irgendwie an mir fest, nicht wahr? Und ehrlich gesagt, ich würde es nicht anders haben wollen. Auch wenn ich es nicht immer so zeige, wie ich sollte. Also, was gibt es Neues? Vermisse mich?

*A week of silence had stretched into an eternity. Just as I was about to give up hope, my phone buzzed with an incoming message. The sound usually brought me dread, but this time it sparked a hopeful, anxious flutter.*

*A notification from Enchong popped up on your screen. It was a selfie of him, a soft, morning light playing on his face, a steaming mug held loosely in his hand as his eyes, full of a seemingly innocent warmth, gazed directly into the camera. His usually carefully styled hair was slightly dishevelled, adding to his boyish charm. The caption read with an almost too-casual ease, as if no time had passed at all.*

Enchong

Enchong

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