𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 | 𝐛𝐭𝐬

FIVE

8 YEARS AGO

2011

(y/n) - 09 | Rosé - 11

Your P.O.V

"Vse, chtoby otkryt' stranitsu tridtsat' sem' v vashikh uchebnikakh I nachat' chteniye so vtorogo abzatsa I daleye."
our Russian language instructor's voice booms across the classroom.

Standing at five-foot-eight, Yelena Kuznetsov originally hails from Russia. She also has an extremely abrasive and pedantic personality, impossibly sharp features, and glossy flaxen hair neatly pulled into a bun so tight that if her hair roots could speak they'd cry of devastation instead. However, I must admit, for a busy woman in her mid-thirties, she sure maintains a praiseworthy figure and good posture. But man do I hate this woman with a passion. True, 'hate' is a strong word. Strong, but accurate.

Anyway, can someone tell me why we're learning Russian all of a sudden in the first place? I mean, I can't quite understand why a bunch of nine to eleven year olds, who are also very much all Korean, needs to learn Russian for. And not to mention that we just finished learning French and German last year!

"Pssst." I am suddenly thrown off guard by some lowlife who kicks my chair from behind. I absolutely despise people who kick others behind their chairs. Either tap them on the shoulder or pass a note or something—it's not that hard!

I whip around with a waspish scowl. "What?" I snap at the boy seated behind me and then immediately regret it, but too late—my sudden reaction causes him to shrink back into his chair like a frightened kitten. I'm suddenly at a loss of words as I continue to stare at the chubby boy with coke bottle glasses who happens to own the most squishable (is that even a real word?) cheeks I have ever seen my whole life. Like, EVER.

"I'm so sorry," he begins to apologize frantically. "I didn't mean to disturb you!"

"Nah, it's okay." I say like the lame person I am. "Do you need something?" I smile awkardly. I wish wish I could disappear from the face of earth right now.

"Um, yeah, about that . . ." he's staring at me like I am about to drag him to hell or something, when in reality all I can think of right now is reaching over and squishing his GODDAMN ADORABLE CHEEKS! "I just wanted to ask whether you understood what Madam Kuznetsov said?" he smiles nervously, his eyes almost disappearing into a single thin line and his ears turning red with embarrassment. "I didn't catch a single word she just said."

Oh my god, why is he so CUTE?

"Oh, that." good thing I was paying attention in class, otherwise I would've looked like a dumbfuck right now. "She asked everyone to turn to page thirty-seven on their textbooks and start reading from the second paragraph onwards." this time I somehow manage to muster a mildly pleasant smile.

"So that's what she was saying." He chuckles. "For a second there I thought she was declaring war or something."

And he's got a good sense of humor, too! Boy, where have you been all my life?

"Chto zdes' proiskhodit?" [ Meaning: What's going on here? ] Madam Kuznetsov demands.

Annoyed, I turn around. "Prosto pomogayu drugu." [ Meaning: Just helping a friend. ] I mutter a languid reply, despite feeling vexed.

"Bozhe moy, ty tak govorish' so svoim uchitelem! Gde tvoi manery?" [ Meaning: My goodness, is the way to talk to your teacher! Where are your manners? ] she barks at me as if I had said something slight or outrageous.