|𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜e| 𝐊.𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮𝐱𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔

Monday
Weather status: heavy snow, chance of light rain.

✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧
•••
✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

The bell had already rang and you had already arrived to Culinary.
You had no intention of paying much attention to the professor when you hear a familiar phrase:

"Group Project"

You pause from your doodling in your note book to get more information.

"Yes, this will be another major part of your grade. So I suggest you take it seriously. I will give the class the opportunity to chose your partners. So I will guess that you all won't work with any friends that are in my class..."

She continues to explain more on the project when you get back to doodling in your book.

The project was nothing complicated. All you had to do was create a dessert.
Simple.
Though most students in the class might take it to another level. But it would be much easiest just to bake some cupcakes, and be done with it.

The professor stops from further explanation when you hear rambling and such around the classroom.
The class was picking their partners so that they wouldn't get last picked.

You then hear foot steps approaching the right side of your desk. You turn your attention to a black haired boy that was in your class.

"Hey L/n! I was wondering if you already had a partner? I'm really bad at this whole culinary thing and a lot of our other classmates said that your were really good at-"

You then feel a hard slam right in front of you. You turn to the front or your desk when you see a blonde yelling.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW TO FUCKING BAKE?"

"Katsuki."

"Hey? I was already talking to L/n if you did realize-"

"Do you want me to blow your fucking brains out?"
He says with his free hand heating up.

The boy backs up with fear and goes back into the crowd of the other students.

"What's wrong with you today? Having another temper tantrum, Katsuki?"
You ask.

"NO. What the fuck?! I just need help with this shit."

"The professor said not to work with your friends Katsuki."
You say putting your pen back to your paper.

"Who the fuck said we were friends?"
He seethed.

"Look. Don't you know how to cook? Aren't you good in most of your classes?"
You ask in irritation.

"I know how to cook not bake."
He states.

"Aww! I would take pity on you, but that death threat you placed on me a couple nights ago is making it pretty hard right now..."
You say tapping your pen on your cheek.