WARNING. | hajeongwoo

04.

Jeongwoo heaved a mocking scoff, hands still in the middle of shrugging off dust and other rubbish that got stuck on his shirt, but there was no thing as such—such an act was an indirect way of shrugging that awfully uncanny and awkward feeling when he landed on Haruto. That same touch, and the way their skin brushed—it was such a feeling he wouldn't want to cling to him for so long, yet no matter how much he tried to disregard it would still cling to him nonetheless.

The japanese only eyed him, not seeming to be offended but not carefree either. He only stared as Jeongwoo tried to desperately forget what had just occurred before a smirk crept on his face. An interesting scene for him to witness, it seems—just the right timing to commence another banter. 

"You hate touching me that much that you have to tidy your clothes as if a dirt was stuck with you?" Haruto started, his face starting to get contorted akin to that of someone who has been through such offense, emitting an expression of hurt. "Don't be like that, Jeongwoo! How rude, I was literally the one who helped you!" he added, his voice exaggerated. 

Of course, Jeongwoo can't deny the fact that it was Haruto who rescued him. But if only it was a different person, and if only there wasn't this annoyance towards the person, he wouldn't have to act so crude and a word of gratitude would have escaped his mouth sooner. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case, so now he could only mutter curses under his breath and glare at the male in front of him who's constantly testing the last ounce of patience left inside his person. 

Jeongwoo spat, "And did I ask for your help? Certainly not!" 

Haruto raised a brow, already spotting a flaw in Jeongwoo's reasoning. Normally, it would be a natural reaction for the brunet to just walk away after Haruto helping him, but the japanese just keeps getting in his veins—with such a mocking face, it would be arduous for him to turn away as if he were to concede defeat, yet the more he argued with him the more he felt his reasons obsolete. 

"Oh, that's wrong. Weren't you screaming so desperately asking for help?" Haruto retorted, a smirk still painting his face. Jeongwoo felt his cheeks burn up in embarrassment; if anything, it wasn't such a pleasant memory to recall. 

What's even more odd was that, he saw Haruto slowly coming towards him, causing him to take a step backward, and another one, and another one—the person in front kept on stepping forward, again, and again—it was only stopped when he felt a bump in his back. Inclining his head, he muttered another curse, closing his eyes shut before opening it again, seeing Haruto in front of him. 

There was no means of escape, only to push the japanese away. But even after being trapped, Haruto still continued to move forward, leaning his bulky figure on his chest, pressing both of their shoulders—Jeongwoo's instinct made him lean his upper body back, desperately trying to escape from such oppression. Haruto only chuckled before leaning his head closer, eyeing him from head to toe. 

"You said, 'anyone, please help me' with such a desperate voice. I'm sure it won't matter if it was me who happened to help you, is that right?" 

Jeongwoo's mind was stuck in a haywire, caught in such a daze. He could not fathom everything except for the sentence that escaped from Haruto's lips, ringing all over his ears for him to only understand. He couldn't even move an inch. Instead, he stared there, eyes widened with utter shock—just why the hell is this business student doting over him? Was it because it was him who started first, or because the other was just killing time and toying with him? 

It was so so difficult to break free from such intimidation. So difficult to shut his mind and block it with tens and hundreds of barriers, just stop the fast heartbeat even if he were to be deprived of oxygen. Pull himself together and stop the fucking staring! Yet even by moving his fingers by an inch, he could not do. It was humiliating. Jeongwoo felt humiliated, defeated, and, at the same time, he just want to slap Haruto in the face. 

In the end, after a minute of despondent complaints and resistance, Jeongwoo finally managed to move. Shaking his head, he immediately transferred all of his remaining strength to his palms and pushed Haruto away until he falls down the ground. And he did. With a distressed look, Jeongwoo felt cold sweats dripping from his forehead, suddenly panting for dear life as he looked down on Haruto who was still in the ground, not a small amount of remorse visible on his panicked face.

"You—you—you pervert!" he blurted, still in the process of stabilizing his breath. If only he could curse at him, he would have done so, but he still have an ample amount of dignity—he wouldn't be so rash just to tarnish his name, or worse, even his family's business. Yet as he looked down on Haruto who still remained in the ground, remorse finally started flowing in his veins one by one. 

He thought of helping him by extending a hand, but it doesn't mean he had forgiven him. But whenever he thinks of it, he just couldn't help but shake his head. What an awful sight! After exchanging words of insult, and even coming to such extent by making each other uncomfortable to such point, would it be appropriate to extend a hand and act kind? Definitely too late, and so he only turned around. 

"Can't you stand up for yourself?! It's not like you don't have hands and feet to make yourself stand up, do you?" Jeongwoo questioned, still turning around and not sparing a glance at the person behind him. After a while, Haruto only chuckled before finally standing up. 

"That was so rude, Jeongwoo. Are you stirring up trouble?" 

Jeongwoo stiffened in his position, completely inert. He was more than aware that it's just Haruto's way of threatening him, maybe his way to make him turn around. Yet he couldn't help but think of the possibility that pushing Haruto may be an offense for someone with such power, who could possibly dominate them if he were to pursue. The chances were low, but Jeongwoo is such a worrywart, so would it be his fault if he were to not worry? 

Jeongwoo finally gave up and decided to turn around, curling his fist and storing his fury. Haruto just won't let this go, no matter how much he wanted to run away. He scoffed before smirking, making sure not to appear inferior. "Well, aren't you the one who's acting odd, Mr. Watanabe? What would you do if news spread out about such suspicious actions?" 

The two only exchanged stares, sly smirks not leaving their faces, holding their ground. No one was willing to utter words, but the competition is still on. It was such awful, so full of pressure, full of intimidation—but both were not weaklings just to back down and concede defeat. 

It was only then that the bell, signaling the end of lunch break, stopped the both of them from their indirect feud. 

[A/N: Oh, you don't know how much I love writing enemies to lovers! I'm sorry if it took me a long time to update this time. Exam week has just ended but I still a couple of things to do. Updates may be slow because I'm either busy or just procrastinating.]