Shitmate || Yoongi

18

18

H ye r i n

I wanted to complain.

I wanted to protest.

I wanted to object.

I wanted to disapprove.

Those were all just synonyms but who the fuck cares, i'm sad here :<

I sat on my chair and redeemed my thoughts.

How could we possibly finish a project together when he's lazy and I'm fucking lazy too?

I sighed deeply.

This will be so damn difficult.

"Because those two were late, once again I'll repeat what you guys have to do with the baby project." Ms. Wang said.

Whoa-Wtf? Did I hear it wrong? Baby project?

Wait-WHAT?

"Each partners will work together to gather their baby pictures and put them all in a scrapbook. This will help you to know more about your partner's life and this can serve as a new start of friendship. It's better to establish new relationships since it's just the second month of the school year. This is a good start for everyone."

Ah-Thank goodness, I thought it was something else.

That "baby project" sounded so wrong on many levels.

But-wait. Baby pictures?!

No way! I looked much more shittier when I was a kid!

And Yoongi's baby pictures too? I don't want to see them. Maybe a bit. After all, I'm still curious if he still looks the same as before. Who knows, maybe that bitch had plastic surgery like half our population does.

Because that's life here in South Korea, hoes.

A few minutes later, the bell rang.

We got up from our seats and made our way outside.

"Yah, Yoongshit!" I called out to him but that jerk didn't even spare a glance on me instead he just continued his way outside.

That motherfucking bitch!

I reached out for his backpack and pulled it towards me that made him almost lose his balance.

He angrily looked at me. "What was that for, huh?!"

"I was calling for you but you son of a bitch just ignored me."

"That's because I don't give a shit."

"Asshole!" I hit him in his arm that made him wince shortly.

"The fuck is wrong with you! That hurts a lot!" He yelled as he tried to hit me back but I quickly dodged his attack so he ended up hitting the wall with his uh-just recovered arm.

"Fuck!"

"Yo, are you alright or nah?" I asked.

"Nah!" He screamed as he held his arm.

"This is all your fault, bitch!"

"Now you know how it hurt when I kicked the vending machine with my injured foot." I laughed.

"Why are you laughing? Does this look funny to you, woman?!" His face was red in anger.

"Ask that to yourself when you fucking laughed at me when I was crying because of so much pain before. So I believe, I have the right to laugh in this situation too, bitch."