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viii

donghyuck focus

                    ➶

15:18 || 3:18 p.m.

after a morning of hell, which included throwing up blood and the bingeing he did last night, donghyuck entered his last class.

the boy was feeling everything but okay.

his head was hurting immensely, he felt weak and insecure, and his mind was still trapped in the thoughts of his mother. the letter he had written to his mother was still in his pocket since he decided to wear the same black hoodie he wore the day prior.

he wondered why he hasn't thrown it away. he wondered why he still gave a fuck when he shouldn't.

but, he just did.

long story short, the boy was not in the mood today.

tired. angry. sad. a heavy combination of those three emotions really takes a toll on a person.

the last class was going by exhaustingly and painfully slow.

donghyuck's mood was ticking by the second.

not even mark's presence helped him out the way it usually always does. his thoughts were cloudy, and he was on the very edge of a full-on meltdown.

don't fucking cry. not now. not in front of everyone, donghyuck.

this was his last class of the day anyway, he didn't have anything to do anymore.

the boy pulled his hoodie over his head and rested on the desk. his leg was bouncing around furiously in order to stop the waterworks pooling in his eyes.

"donghyuck, head up, now." a stern voice told. that voice belonging to his history teacher, mr. aobo.

hissing at his teacher, the brown haired boy gave him an intense and angry glare, before laying his head back down on his desk.

he could just feel everyone's eyes on him.

a loud slap was heard on his desk. the teacher's hand hitting the wooden desk harshly, a red sheet being slammed on the desk. a referral to the office.

"fill this out, elsewhere. now." the teacher told, only making donghyuck's temper go wild.

grasping onto the paper, he stared his teacher dead in his eyes. he tore the paper in two pieces slowly, before throwing the pieces onto the ground, making very intimidating eye contact with mr. aobo while he did it.

students gasped while others snickered, and the class fell silent.

he could even see mark watching him intensely through the corner of his eye.

"shut the fuck up." donghyuck growled, his leg now going haywire as it bounced around crazily.

don't cry. don't cry. don't fucking cry.

the bell rung. donghyuck could finally leave this place. students immediately packed up their things and left, ignoring the boy and his furious teacher.

somebody stayed back though.

mark.

"office. now, donghyuck." the teacher ordered angrily, having the audacity to push donghyuck off his chair in an effort to make him stand up quicker.

and that did it.

that was it.

his temper? gone.

his self control? out the window.

his emotions? everywhere.

"don't fucking touch me!" he yelled, shoving his teacher backwards. he knew he shouldn't have done that. it's wrong, considering the man's older age.

but he didn't care. all donghyuck could see was red.

the poor boy had gone mad.

knocking his chair over in the process of getting his backpack, he started sobbing quietly to himself.

and that's when mark came into the situation.

he followed donghyuck in an effort to comfort him, but in return he was just shoved out of the way by him.

donghyuck ran. he ran into the bathroom. and on the way there, mark noticed he dropped a certain something.

a paper.

a letter.

--
thank you for the read!
stay safe, áltura. 🦋