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┊❝Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ sᴜɴsʜɪɴᴇ, ᴍʏ ᴏɴʟʏ sᴜɴsʜɪɴᴇ❞┊
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You are (Y/N) (L/N). When you were eight and in elementary school, you had a friend named Yoonbum. However, due to reasons your parents wouldn't expla...
"See ya later, Horsie!" I had thrown over my shoulder, before overly cheerily skipping past him and into the classroom.
I knew it was a bitchy move, but a sudden, unexpected wave of anger had punched me in the gut at that guy's cold, uncaring demeanor. I'd just met the guy not 24 hours ago, and yet he had already managed to become a professional at crawling under my skin; though, admittedly, that didn't mean much. I was known for being just a teeny, tiiiiiny bit on the short-tempered side. Damn hormones.
A couple people threw me some bewildered stares as I waltzed over to my desk and plopped down in my seat. Their gazes bore holes into my back, and I could practically feel what they were thinking about me.
"Did she just call him... Horise..?"
"Woah, roasted."
"Jesus Christ, what a cunt."
"What the hell is her problem?"
And that last stare.
"What a weirdo."
I bit down on my bottom lip, a habit I'd picked up recently - bad, yes, but at least my nails were staying intact.
If I was totally honest with myself, the bewildered looks and heated glares did bother me. I tried to convince myself I was better off this way, embracing myself and being open. In reality, however, I would have given anything to be one of those done up bimbos eyeing me like cheetahs stalking a gazelle. Even if it meant being a complete twisted, two faced asshole, a selfish desire to just fit in still burned somewhere inside me.
I threw a glance over my shoulder at some random, olive skinned brunette a couple rows behind me. Her seashell pink painted lips were pressed harshly together in a thin line, and if looks could kill, I would have been cuddling up to Daddy Satan. When our gazes met, though, she snapped upright in her seat and her jaw fell slightly agape.
We simply stared into each other's eyes for a moment- hers wide and clearly taken aback, my own depressed- before I broke the staring contest and forced a grim smile.
What I wouldn't give to be like you...
I then turned back around and faced forward. After that little incident, I had focused my attention solely on the professor and taking notes of his lesson, but the feeling of a gaze digging daggers into my back being replaced with a more tender, possibly even remorseful feeling didn't go unnoticed.
... a basic bitch.
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Twelve Years Ago...
"Oi, you," the little girl jumped, abruptly lifting her chin up. Her eyes snapped open and she took a sharp intake of breath as two tiny, dainty hands suddenly slammed down on the table before her. The unexpected, abrupt slap of skin against the polished wood of her desk resounded through the classroom, catching everyone's attention.
"Look at me," (Y/N), abashed, raised her head and shivered. Cold, electrifying blue pools clashed with terror stricken (E/C) as their gazes met. The petite girl gulped feverishly, but forced a smile to her lips, nonetheless, though admittedly grim.
"Y-Yes?" She clumsily fumbled over her words, feeling the color draining from her face at the sheer intensity of the boy's stare.
Seok Minho was a boy with creamy, caramel brown skin. He had tousled, jet black curls that were always wild and untamed - why, it wouldn't have surprised anyone if a door to Narnia was somewhere in that mess atop his head. A mighty fire of resentment blazed in his narrowed eyes, the flames flickering and spitting as they observed (Y/N) with disdain.
His lips pulled back into a sneer and he raised his nose up scornfully, scoffing at the girl.
"This is for my Mommy," he spat, and (Y/N) failed to recognize the sudden threat before another resounding SMACK! echoed through the room, as the boy raised his arm back and swung forward, slapping the girl.
The impact of the blow sent her head snapping to the side and her delicate, six-year-old body flying. She fell back, the legs of her seat slipping and the chair crashing down to the checkered floor, dragging her shocked self along with it. Her elbow hit the tiles hard and at a twisted, awkward angle, sending waves of pain all up her forearm. The (H/C) haired girl let out a strangled cry and clutched her arm, rolling over onto her side and cradling her injured limb to her chest.
"W- Wh-"
"- Why?" (Y/N) quickly leapt up onto her knees and scrambled away as the boy knelt down beside her, interrupting her stuttering mess and asking her question for her. "You want to know why, bitch?"
The girl flinched at the insulting name, but hesitantly nodded her head, nonetheless, peering up at the boy through a watery film that was clouding her vision.
"Why, huh?" Seok repeated himself once more, leaning forward, too close for comfort for the trembling (H/C) haired mess. "Why?"
He admired the clear red handprint he'd left on the girl's ghostly pale (S/C) cheek, before a vengeful smirk graced his features.
"Because your mom's a fucking whore," he sneered, and (Y/N) inhaled sharply. "I'm just giving a slut like you what you deserve."
The boy grinned maliciously.
"A fucking ass whoopin'."
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A/N:Sorry there wasn't any Daddy Sangwoo action in this chapter, guys, but I just have to get this shit done and over with. Please be patient and stay with me, especially if you like lemons, because I kid you not, I have ridiculously more sex than actual real plot related chapters planned out so far. I'm going to either really traumatize or entertain you all. Curses. :p
