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Taehyung's PoV;

"I swear on Yeontan's life! His eyes were purple!" I said, banging on the lunch table excitedly.

"Well, guess who's gonna come home to a dead dog." Yoongi mumbled through a mouthful of pasta.

"Yoongi!" Jimin slapped him on the arm, Jin copying from the opposite side, to which Yoongi continued to chew through his pasta, unbothered.

I went to defend myself, but was stopped by a bottle of water being poured over my head by one of the jocks.

An art student being bullied by the best soccer player in the school?

Cliché, I know.

"Look! Little flower boy might grow into one!" He laughed obnoxiously loud, "if you look carefully, you can see his purple hair twisting into a stem!"

He gripped my hair roughly, pulling it and myself up, holding it whilst standing chest to chest with me.

My eye twitched as I ground my teeth in pain and annoyance.

"Aw, little flower boy upset because he hasn't got a soulmate? Indulges in flowers because he thinks it'll fill his empty heart?" He mocked cruelly, "how cute."

He let go of me, sending me down roughly until my ass hit the ground.

Too afraid to retaliate, I grabbed my sodden art book with a huff, storming out of the dining hall until I reached the library, the laughter coming from hundreds of students residing in the hall no longer filling my ear drums.

What also didn't help my art-nerd personality, was the fact that I was obsessed with books also. So the library was the perfect place for me to hide as jocks wouldn't be seen dead in such a place.

To me, it's just a room filled with books, I don't see the nerdiness to it.

Smiling faintly at the librarian, I took a seat at the table in the corner, setting my soaked book down and sighing sadly as I watched the water damage my painting, the purple flowers now looking like careless blobs of paint.

Quietly groaning, I noticed at how every single of my pages were sodden, each work of art ruined.


No chance of fixing it.

Days and weeks worth of work, tired eyes and aching joints as I pushed to finish it in the early hours of the morning.


Although my art teacher gave me a C for the project, I wasn't bothered.


Totally fine.

It's not as if I had a soulmate to look at my hunchback in disgust.

It's fine.

I mentally screamed as the realisation fully set in, everything was ruined.

Checking my, thankfully dry, phone, I noticed that I'd completely missed fourth lesson. It wasn't an optional lesson as I'd picked it up out of boredom, something to go do in my free periods. I enjoyed literature and I knew my professor was most likely going to beat the living shit out of me once he realised that I was absent.

Actually, I doubt he'd even realise.

And if he did, I'm not too sure he'd actually care.

Throughout my life, I'd been labelled as the 'flower boy' who was too soft for his own good and why the fuck hasn't he grown out of this phase by now? 

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