𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 | 𝐛𝐭𝐬

SIX

Present Day: Monday Morning

Rosé's P.O.V

"You . . . you promised me"—I throw a vase at him—"that"—I hear the vase shatter—"the one she did an year ago"—I grab the very next thing that my hand comes into contact with: a snow globe.

"No! Not the snow globe!" he yells.

"Was going to be her"—I throw the snow globe at him—"last, hit!" I hear that shatter as well. 

"What the hell, Rosé! That was a souvenir from India!" He complains. How dare he complain about his goddamn souvenir from India while my sister has been sent on a hit! I don't know what she sees in this selfish, self-centered, dumb, lying – fine. Handsome, too – brat!

"As if I give a damn about your Taj Mahal!" I snap at him.

"Wait a minute, how did you know it was a Taj Mahal?" he asks.

I raise an eyebrow at him. Is he kidding me right now? "Don't ninety-nine percent of the snow globes in India have Taj Mahal's inside them?" I reply.

"Oh." I hear him say.

I'm just blind, Kai. Not stupid. I wanted to say.

"So, where were we? Ah, yes." I pick up what feels like a pen holder and throw that at him as well. "You lied to me!" I hear it smash against something and the sound of pens hitting the ground. So far I have thrown a stack of books; a bunch of heavy paper files; a puncher; a stapler; a vase; a snow globe; and a pen holder.

"I'm going to have to buy myself new stationery after you leave." He says as if on cue, which manages to triple my anger.

Hands down he is the worst!

"Want a reason to buy yourself a new laptop as well?" I say darkly while running my fingertips over his precious Apple laptop. (Don't ask me how I know it's an Apple).

"Rosé, please not that—it's brand new!" He begs.

Pfft. As if I care! All I ever cared and will continue to care about is my only family and donsaeng, (y/n).

I pick it up from his office desk. "Why did you break your promise? WHY?" I demand him. "Am I a joke to you?"

"Rosé, please put that down." he continues to beg. Pathetic. "There are some very valuable documents in there."

Again. As. If. I. Care.

I lift the laptop over my head. "You liar."

"Rosé," His tone is a mixture of alert, warning, and fear.

"You're a terrible liar!" I yell at him.

"Rosé, please, listen to me. Only God knows how hard I tried to stop my them from sending her. They just wouldn't listen! You know how much I care about (y/n)—"

"DON'T SAY HER NAME." I scream at the top of my lungs. "DON'T YOU DARE SAY HER NAME WITH THAT DISGUSTING LYING MOUTH OF YOURS."

Goodness, is so unlike me. I am never the furious one, it's always (y/n). Going out there and speaking her mind, stealing everyone's attention whether she wants it or not, being a rebel and standing her ground, and most importantly, doing what she feels is right no matter how many oppose to her. Then there is me . . . her complete opposite. I am the quiet, innocent, obedient, nonviolent, sweet one who manages to win everyone's heart at first meet up. But things are different here. Everyone either openly likes (y/n) or secretly envies her and then there is me, who is considered a burden and despised by many. And Kai being one of them. Obviously.

"Rosé?" Someone calls my name from the doorway, and I immediately recognize his voice.

I lower the laptop and turn around. "Ken?" I hear Kai exhaling in relief. I wanted to throw his stupid laptop across the room right then and there, but of course I did not want Ken to see this side of me. Not today. Not ever.

"Rosé." He says again and takes a few steps towards me. I wonder if he is holding out his hand for me? I put down Kai's laptop back on his desk and reach out for Ken. Suddenly a warm hand gently grabs hold of my hand and I instantly feel a weird feeling in my stomach. Oh it's him, alright. "Shall we go?"

"Get me out of here." I say walking towards him.

"Okay." While continuing to hold on to my hand, he ever-so-gently wraps his free arm around my waist and guides me out of Kai's now ruined goddamn office which I have always secretly wanted to burn down someday.

We walk out of the room, turn left, and continue to walk down the corridor. I know where he is taking me: we're heading towards the common room.

"Are you okay?" He asks after a few minutes of silence. Now our hands are intertwined; his warm hands and my cold ones. I don't like the combination, but I like his warm hands. How can one not?

Other than me, only (y/n) has cold hands out of all the people here. Well, I have never held hands with Kai – if I ever get to, I will definitely make sure to cut them off – but (y/n) has mentioned to me before that they are warm, which is the complete opposite of what I expected. His hands should be cold to match his selfish, unsympathetic, cold heart made of stone. If his hands were as cold as his heart, he could be the next Iceman or better—Jack Frost.

"Yeah." I lie.

"You are lying." He instantly replies.

Oh yeah, I forgot he is a Feeler.

"Why ask when you already know how I'm feeling?" I point out.

"F-Y-I, I don't feel other peoples feelings without their permission." He says, and even though I know I can't see him, I turn to him in shock.

"Then how did you know I was lying?" I can feel his kind smile.

"Because so far I have never seen anyone holding a laptop over their head while screaming at the top of their lungs after throwing random things on someone's desk at that person when they are okay."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "How long have you been watching us?"

"The whole time."

"Excuse me?" I might sound like I am offended, but I really am not.

Does this mean that he has seen me in my I-must-protect-my-donsaeng-at-all-costs-because-this-is-all-my-fault mode!?

"Kai asked me to watch over you in case you might decide to actually kill him." He explains.

"Coward." I mutter under my breath. "Wait. So you were feeling my feelings without my permission!" I point out.

"That's because I didn't want you to become a murderer as well." He blurts out, then immediately swears under his breath.

I know he didn't mean to say that out loud and that he is regretting it, but it's too late now. The damage has been done. What he just said hit me like a wrecking ball without Miley Cyrus sitting on it naked.

As well? Did he just indirectly call my sister a murderer?

I suddenly feel the urge to kill myself. My heart feels so tight as if someone is squeezing it from the inside. Nausea washes over me and it is getting harder and harder to breath. I am not sure if it's because of what Ken just said or if it's something else, but either way, it just feels really, really bad and so, so wrong.

"R-Rosé, are you okay? Y-you don't feel right!"

"I hope (y/n)'s okay . . ." I say, my voice barley a whisper, and then my eyes roll to the back of my head and I collapse.

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