Sunday Morning, I raise from my bed, sluggishly, wishing that I could have gotten better rest. Today would be my lazy day. As I place my feet on the polished wood tiles, the cold touch on my bare feet awoke me faster. A crook in my neck, sore muscles, and a slight headache came over me. Thinking of the way my day has begun, I presume today to be a drag.
Sliding my feet against the ground, I head to the kitchen for breakfast. Letting out a good yawn, stretching my muscles, I open the fridge to heat my leftovers from Jongins, only to realize that the bowl was empty inside the sink. Yoongi had beaten me to my food. It's unfortunate to mention that he takes my food without asking. Oh, and he doesn't wash the dishes either.
I grab the empty bowl and head to Yoongi's room, where he slept peacefully, wrapping himself in a ball. He almost seemed innocent. "Yoongi," I call out from the doorway, hoping that he would wake up, but he remained asleep, faint snores leaving his body. In an attempt to wake him, I seat beside him, watching him sleep. It's a shame how such a good looking man can be such an asshole.
I shake him vigorously, awaking him from his deep slumber. "Why did you eat my ramen?" I fuss, clearly upset. He remained quiet, turning his body away from me, attempting to fall back asleep. "I'm talking to you," I bump the container on his forehead. He winces in pain, redirecting his eyes back to me. "Leave me alone," He groans, his voice deep and hoarse.
"I was going to eat it today," I murmur heavily. Yoongi didn't seem to care, but I was not at all surprised at his reaction. With a profound sigh, I leave his room. Nothing that I say or do will get me my ramen back, which's overwhelming and unfortunate.
That Sunday, I locked myself in my room, avoiding him at all cost. I have to study and having him on my back would only distract me.
On Monday morning, I rush to get to the university, forgetting that I had school. I gather my belongings, sprinting as fast as possible to get to my first-period class on time. As the bell rings, I arrive, nearly out of breath. Yoongi and I made eye contact as I came through the door, taking my seat.
"Where were you?" Hannah asks, surprised that I barely made it to class on time. "My alarm didn't ring," I say, running my hands through my hair, trying to catch my breath. "Jongin was looking for you. He said that he had been looking around the school and that he tried to reach you numerous times," I glance at my phone, realizing that I had four missed calls from Jongin. He must be worried.
"Class, pass up your assignments," Our professor demands.
"Hannah, I swear that I set my alarm," I tell her, still thinking how I slept through it. "Don't worry. It happens to me all the time," She chuckles, passing her assignment to the front of the class. As I rummage through my binders, textbooks, and loose sheets, my eyes grow large. "Where the hell did I put it?" I ask, a bit unsettled. "What is it?" Hannah asks.
"My assignment, I don't know where I put it,"
"Maybe you left it at home?"
"No, it was in here," I reassure her, dumping my bag on the floor, looking for the missing assignment. Then, I hear Yoongi chuckle, and my head automatically turns to face him. He pulls out a document, but I know damn well that he hadn't done it.
"You didn't," I glare at him furiously. He smirks mischievously, sitting back at his desk, unbothered. "What the fuck is your problem?" I say aloud, catching the attention of the classroom. "Excuse me?" The professor asks, standing at her podium. I chose to ignore her as my problem is with Yoongi.
"I'm fed up with your bullshit. Do you hear me?" I ask, standing to my feet, pointing at Yoongi. "Give it back to me," I demand.
"Miss, please take a seat,"
"No, I want my assignment back," I turn to the professor. "He's taking my work for his credibility, and I will not tolerate this shit any longer!" I am livid at this point. Using explicit vocabulary, not caring who hears me.
Yoongi remained calm, watching me accuse him of plagiarism and appropriation in front of the entire class. "Yoongi, is this true?" The professor asks, approaching us. "I have no idea what she's allegedly accusing me of," He says, handing her the assignment that belonged to me. "Take a look," He says, crossing his arms, turning his body to face me.
The professor glares at me over her glasses, taking the assignment and revising it. "I don't see what you mean," She says, siding with Yoongi. "Excuse me?" I scoff, chuckling in anger. "This here has his name written at the top, in his handwriting," She tells me, passing the paper to me to witness for my own eyes.
"This is bullshit!" I yell, grabbing Yoongi by the shirt, rocking him violently, forward and back, "Where did you put it?" I continue to ask but come apart from the professor who had enough of this dramatic scene. "Enough," She says, separating us. "Sit down!" She demands, but I refused. "No, that's my work!" I insist.
"Silence!" She yells.
"But--"
"This is pitiful coming from you. What has gotten into you? You're disrupting class, assaulting a student, and using foul language in my classroom, and I've had it!" The professor scolds me. "Until you learn how to control yourself, you are dismissed from my classroom," I scoff, gathering my items and leaving the classroom angrily.
Ever since Yoongi came into my life, a living hell on Earth happened. He has the potential to ruin me completely, but I am not going to allow it. His attitude, behavior, and lies will get him killed sooner than later. This obscenity will come to an end.
What do I do now? I got kicked out of class, and now, I'm standing in the hallway, unsure of where to go. After giving it a quick thought, I decided to go back home and wait for Yoongi to get there three hours from now.
As I arrive, the first thing I do is check my room for my missing assignment. Yoongi must have snuck into my room when I was with Jongin and took the work that he didn't do off my bed. This explains why he asked me to do the work for him in return for my missing item.
I look in every possible corner and crevice of my room, but it was not there as expected. Then, I decided to check Yoongi's room. If it's not in my room, it may be in his bedroom somewhere. "Where the hell could you have put it?" I question, looking around his spotless room.
As desperate as I was, I went through his trash bin full of crumpled pages, his bathroom, and even his laundry. Something was suspicious. How is it not in his room? He left zero evidence and managed to get away with it too? Impossible. There's no other possible place to hide it, which means that he has the paper with him.
Deviously, I come up with a plan to rebuke my revenge on Min Yoongi. This will be the last time that he messes with me for sure.
Three hours later, Yoongi arrives. I'm standing behind his room door, waiting for him to enter his bedroom. As he walks in, throwing his bag onto his chair, I sneak up behind him, tasing the back of his neck, incapacitating him for a few seconds as he drops to the floor, trying to protect himself. He let out a scream.
Temptation came over me, wanting to keep the taser pressed, and so I did. As I hover over him, pinning him to the ground, I tase his arm, but he slaps the taser away in seconds, leaving me no other choice but to punch instead. "I swear that I'm going to kill you!" I yell, aiming furiously as his arms cover his face.
"Get off!" He yells, but that doesn't stop me from swinging. "How does it feel?" I ask, holding him by the neck with one hand and with the other fist in the air, ready to strike again. "You fucking tased me!" He scoffs, quickly seizing my wrists to prevent me from abusing him.
Unexpectedly, he manages to roll me over, getting on top, placing his weight on my hips. "Yeah, now we're both shocked!" I reply, wiggling around.
A creepy smirk forms on his lips as he pins me down. "What the hell are you smiling at?" I scoff, arching my back to get up. "You like this, don't you?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. "Excuse me?"
"Is this what you and your boyfriend do when you're not home?" He chuckles softly. "You're kinky, aren't you?"
"What the hell? Get off," I cringe at his words, wishing that I was still beating him up. "Oh, now you want me off, right?" He shakes his head, staring into my eyes. "The moment that I get a chance to kill you, I swear that I'm going to make you suffer," I threaten, glaring at him with piercing eyes.
"You haven't killed me yet, and you've had plenty of opportunities to," He says, shaking his head. "Anyway, you didn't miss anything in class today except for your assignment," Yoongi reminded me about what occurred earlier in the day.
"Haha, very funny," I roll my eyes. Yoongi finally frees me. "Where did you put my assignment?" I question, getting up from the ground. "I don't have your assignment," He says casually, taking a seat at his desk, rubbing his nape.
"You still dare lie to me? Yoongi, you do realize that you've cost me a failing grade, right? How is that fair to me?" He shrugs. "Do whatever you please, but I am innocent here,"
"Then where is it? It was on my bed when I left on Saturday morning, and suddenly, it's gone? You went into my room. Therefore, you know where it is,"
"I went into your room, but I didn't take it,"
At this rate, I will never know where my assignment went. Apparently, it grew legs and walked away on its own since neither one of us knows where the hell it could be. With a heavy sigh, I cross my arms. "Unbelievable,"
"Let's make a deal,"
"No, Yoongi. I've had it with these dumb deals of yours," I tell him seriously. "It's pointless at this rate. I already failed the work. Just forget it,"
Yoongi remains at his desk, locking eye contact with me. "This is the only time that I'm willing to help you, so you can take it or leave it."
For a second, I considered receiving his assistance. Perhaps it would do some good with nothing in exchange. It's the least he could do for causing so many problems.
"Fine," I give in. After all, I have to do something about the failing score I received. "Under one condition," Yoongi says. "What? You offer help, but I have to exchange something in return? Nevermind,"
"You won't regret it," He tilts his head, spinning in his chair, waiting for me to respond to his request. Profoundly, I exhale to calm my chaotic nerves before hesitantly deciding to accept his compensation.
"What do you want?"
A sly smirk forms on his lips, standing to his feet, "I'll help you look for it only if you do my homework for the rest of the week,"
"No," I answer almost immediately. "Why don't you do the work yourself? It's not complicated, you know?"
"Do you want your homework or not?" Yoongi began to lose his patience, crossing his arms, getting ready to sit back down. "I fucking hate you," I glare in his direction, bringing a smile to his face. "I'll take that as a yes,"
To Be Continued