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sᴏ ᴡʜᴇɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀsᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ʜᴏᴡ ɪ ғᴇᴇʟ
ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴍʏ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ ɪs ʏᴏᴜ
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Presently, you're sitting in a room full of students who are not being attentive and doing their part. Poignant, you shake your head exhaustedly.
Atypical to his usual self, Haechan picks up a metre stick by the chalkboard. The resounding banging, wood against a whiteboard, causes everyone in the room to tense up. It terminates any conversation.
Yeah, sure—both you and Haechan dislike each other. He's intolerable to you. And you're a stuck-up to him. Still, your responsibilities and duties as student council presidents are more than honourably upheld. It's a nonverbal agreement with each other to not slack.
Especially during this New Years festival. Which unexpectedly, Kina has been edging (more like egging) you to attend the meetings more often. For whatever reasons she's belying her own retained knowledge is not your business to meddle in. So, you sighed fatigued when she threatened to steal your beloved snack box under your bed.
"Don't make me force you to run 50 laps around the school," Haechan sternly glares at everyone. "Again."
You shrivel inwards and spare him a questioning grimace. "And don't make me force you to deal with him instead for a day." Directing your finger into the side of his shoulder, the students' faces morph into horror and all viciously wag their heads in obedience.
This heeds you to smile. Haechan's seriousness when it comes to his position is not something to laugh at.
He's taking it very seriously.
And he probably wasn't kidding when he said he'd make everyone run 50 laps around the school. Probably including you because he gets enjoyment in seeing your suffering. Schadenfreude—a word that so perfectly describes the relationship you have with one another.
"Why do you say that as if I'm that bad?" He rolls his eyes and holds his metre stick as if he's tempted to smack you with it.
You straighten yourself up and toss him one blank glance. "Because you hit women."
