[l.m x l.dh] [stalker au]
ೃ⁀➷ in which mark, a transfer student,
finds himself in more trouble than
he thought after ignoring advice and
pursuing the school's most hated boy
↷ mature themes
━ ma...
TW // major bullying scene ahead. don't read if you're uncomfortable with depictions of violence and bully-inflicted pain.
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Donghyuck sighed heavily as he wearily dragged himself through the school hallways once the majority of students had cleared from them. There were always a few strays though, much like himself. There was actually a lesson he wanted to teach Mark one of these days, about these corridors of lost souls. He called them the 'gutters'.
He could probably name the vast majority of outcasts that sat along lockers...endless lines of bodies that were existing, but only just. Jaemin had a tendency to torment and crush until there was no possible way to squeeze anymore happiness or life force from the corpse. But really, Na Jaemin wasn't the whole problem — perhaps only the tip of the iceberg. Only Hyuck knew the depths of the power-couple this school looked up to, and that was the reason he was here...in the gutters.
The male's sienna eyes jumped solemnly from one figure to another, each more depressing than the last. His only reasoning for not dropping down then and there to join them was because he had this crap at home as well. If he submitted to Jaemin and Renjun, then he'd just as well have handed his keys to Rijun too; his own body the vehicle. The only one who could drive him was himself, and he'd be fucked if he didn't fight for that basic right.
It was coming up to the end of the day, with afternoon folding into evening and the students dilapidating into zombies. Even a few teachers appeared to run on autopilot, though the blonde couldn't blame them. He was essentially permanently thinking about other things, never focused on what was in front of him.
As he found the front doors to be in sight, the banshee-like shriek of the bell hollered across the entire building, and God was it like an injection to the eardrum. His teeth ground heavily against each other and he attempted to pick up his pace in order to make it out alive. This alone was the reason he always used some lame excuse to leave the last class a little earlier each day.
Just a bit further, he panicked, clutching the straps of his bag a bit tighter. His chest was constricting with shallow breaths, a small and solitary bead of sweat racing down his temple now that the halls were choking up with people. It was a traffic jam, and that usually went one way.
This way:
"Hey, hey, hey, Faggot," a horrible and snarky voice hissed in his ear before yanking him back by his hood and slamming him side-first against a locker. The impact wasn't the sore part, it was really the pre-existing bruises that had been left there only a night or two ago. The days of the week were a bit foggy.
"Shit..." Donghyuck groaned, shuffling slightly to lean his back against the metal doors and blinking away the haziness of surprise. His school bag hung limply from his arms and slid to the floor with a sad thunk.
