The Bad Boy Has A Soft Spot

Chapter 1 Pros and Cons

Roselia's POV

I could hear the drums rolling, rolling like something demented. It was comparable to a car's wheel. It resembled a piece of long log rolling down a hill to meet an end. In all probability,  the main attempt was to end its suffering. The worst pain was getting hurt. I endured it once and it was too painful.

My heart was beating fast. Fast as if it were a hummingbird's steady and fast heartbeats. It was bone-chilling but I was in that chaos. I could hear people shouting their lungs out. It was horrendous. People were sprinting, it was a marathon whose speed was fastest, not who reached the finish line first. A stranger was holding on to me. It was not the best feeling yet, not the worst. I was crying, crying my eyes out.

Emetic sounds flooded my ears. Everything was tinted red and I couldn't process much from the scene. My feelings were taking over me. These feeling were new to me. I despised it. I saw fire. Fire everywhere. I didn't know what to do. I should've just went into the fire and died with them. My sister was right beside the stranger carrying me. The stranger was trying to un-fluster us from our fears. Well, it was crazy talk. How could we be calm when there was fire all around us. I thought "this stranger is really kind but she has no common sense." I guess I was being too rude to her. She only wanted to protect us.

It was still hard to get over it. The thought was resistant to my feelings. Like every single one of us humans, the heart hurts the brain. I remained that way. It propagates around in my head like a wave. I couldn't get over it. It was a car accident where my father and mother died. I was only a pathetic, lonely seven years old. My sister and I never really got along so well before that accident but after that, we were inseparable. We cheated death. Well, every teenager had their own sad backstory and this was mine.

"Ms. Winters." I hear the voice reverberating the entire lecture hall. "Are we interrupting your daydreaming?" The wrinkle under his eyes and the leftover milk in his mustache was a poor combination. Still, it displayed a statement somewhere along the lines of 'I am a desperate middle-aged man who has no love life whatsoever to bring a spark of joy in my life'.

'Hey, we must have something in common.'

'I am not a middle-aged man.'

'I meant that you have a non-existent love life.'

My inner thoughts fought with my conscious but I can't help but feel that my inner thoughts were the biggest critics of my life. A heinous, blunt, horribly honest critic.

"No. Please go ahead." My voice displayed no hint of embarrassment even though my best friend, Vanessa, was already retreating in her seat because all 114  students were staring in my direction. On the other hand, I did not see anything worth being embarrassed about.

"Then, Ms. Winters, I was asking about the electron transfer in the mitochondria. Do you mind explaining how energy is produced through this method?" His mustache imitated the shape of his upper lip as it twisted in a nasty grin, expecting me not to know the answer.

Which I knew, very well. I read it in elementary school.

After I finished explaining how energy was generated- leaving the part asking why he chose to save some of his milk for his lunch- the professor's grin vanished. With an annoyed huff, he went back to his presentation.

Vanessa poked me in the rib and said "That's my girl. I could've sworn the milk from his mustache dropped." She held in her chuckle.

"I did not notice that." I shrugged and turned on my phone. I looked through today's news updates as Vanessa eyed me through the corner of her eyes.

"You shouldn't play with your phone as a lecture is going on." She poked her finger to my ribs which made me flinch. She's a faithful believer of 'turned-off phones' during lectures. She never glanced in her phone during lectures, even if there was a tsunami warning. Her reason? Risky if we get caught. I didn't give a fudge about it. So if she gets bored, she starts playing with her chair, drawing pictures on my notes or annoy the heck out of me and if my phone died, vice versa.