니키. love language

chapter one.

i.

"President."

That voice, which was laced with a sickly sweet tone, interrupts you from your initial words. Even just from hearing it, your mind could already visualize the abhorrent image of a taunting smirk staring back at you.

The rest of the student council members don't even flinch from hearing that specific voice, neither do they turn their heads in curiosity. They have seen this unfold at least a multitude of times already, and at this point they would have to cover their mouths in fake surprise if this went on for far longer.

You heave a sigh, scratching your scalp in mild frustration. "What do you want, idiot?" 

The boy across from you feigns a hurt expression once he hears your callous words. "I was just here to get a quick photo, dumbass. For the yearbook." He tries to point to his camera, emphasizing his intentions.

Ugh. How bothersome he was.

"We are having a meeting right now, so can you not?" Smiling, a hint of menace is evident beneath your blank gaze. Meanwhile, the boy rolls his eyes.

As if a silent timer has finally rung, the student council treasurer— Jay, leans his back further to the chair in delight, finding amusement from what he knows is about to ensue. "And it starts." He states in a matter-of-fact tone, shifting his gaze to the rest of the members. When he meets eyes with them, Heeseung shakes his head and turns away to halt the fits of chuckles bubbling in his throat.

"I can clearly see that," Ni-ki points out, deadpan. "A picture takes only a few seconds, why are you being so stubborn?" He continues, meeting eyes with yours. You stare back daggers at him, having the diabolical urge to meet your fist to his face—respectfully, of course – but you restrain that temptation weighing heavily above you and release an exasperated grunt.

Jungwon shakes his head at the sight, burying his head into the palm of his hand. "You're interrupting an important meeti—"

Jennie cuts you off. "It's not exactly that important, but yeah, go off." A small smirk is etched onto her lips, leaving you with no available excuses to refute his offer.

Fine, clearly you lost this round, but you would not let him trample all over your pride like it was nothing. With a fed-up expression written on your face, you say these next words that aggravate the boy even more.

"Still, a meeting is a meeting, escort your ass out of the door." You gesture, giving him a few more seconds to leave.

He scoffs, utterly dumbfounded by your persistent attitude. "Well, if that's what the president wants." Walking out of the door, he releases an exasperated sigh.

He hates your guts and every single inch of your being. His blood is boiling just by seeing a simple glimpse of you each day. He hates the fact that he has to deal with your prissy attitude just because you are a part of the same friend group as him.

The world must be completely and utterly vicious, to have both of you cross paths. He knows that just from the beginning, he'd be getting himself into a brawl that will never end, a game that'll never let anyone commence defeat.

He'll continue to scorn your existence and curse every single thing about you. You are what continues to drive him crazy—crazily mad.