Starco The Boy Next Door|COMPLETED✔|

BND|Impulse

Chapter Two|Impulse

"Did that scum hurt you again jagiya?" Vincent asked for the fifth time, his eyes glazing with hatred to which his fists were clenched.

I held his clenched fists softly, then it softened and opened, his eyes looking at me with disappointment. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

I looked at him apologetic. "I know, I know."

"I know that he'll never want anyone's business,"  I replied sadly. "--especially a pathetic girl like me, he'll never change but I can't help but hope."

Vincent sighed, going easy on me so many times just because he pities me. "I'm just trying to protect you."

"Vincent stop being a bitch," Janna ruined the atmosphere with her non-filtered mouth.

"You'll never understand her pain," she bit a fry.

Jackie laughed. "Ohh, is that coming from your own experience?"

Janna snapped, glared at Jackie's chuckled face. "Shut up."

"Chill," Jackie defensed, her hands up in the air.

"Guys, I want to go to the washroom," I caught their attention.

Then in an instant they were all up, dusting their skirts clean and accompanied me towards the door.

"Am I not invited?!" Vincent hollered, such a tease.

"Grow some vagina first!" Janna retorted, to which Jackie smacked her for her insensitive mouth towards the different people glancing at her revolted.

Then as we were on our way, the door bursts open, the man with his casual dull eyes. Then it landed on mine that made my heart raise faster and louder than usual, the intensity of his glare was enough to slice me apart.

His eyes spoke for him, he was judging me through his eyes, saying words without words, hurting me without opening his mouth.

Ugly.

That's what I could comprehend through him before he walked past us, but giving me one last glance then fled with my breath altogether.

"Don't mind him, he just have some stick shoved up his ass,"  Janna countered.

Then I realized that I was breathing heavily, I had held my breath the moment his eyes laid on me.

(.  .)

Everyone had to attend their daily clubs. I, on the other hand, refused to go and remained in the emptied classroom because I was tired.

By tired--I mean lazy.

But anyone could understand me, who wouldn't have their brain on the edge when the discussions were never ending, tests that will never hold your future--add onto that the torture of projects.

Overall, it's a recipe for disaster and exhaustion.

With nothing to do, since I had an hour left to waste, I ripped off a piece of paper and started writing about my confidential thoughts.

Far

🎶 Mind's aware, heart's naïve
Trying to piece puzzles that'll never fit
Just like his unwavering splash of coldness
Eyes that could kill
Words that could sting

Cho : So close yet far
How long am I bound to chase?
Will there be ever a time where I'll just halt and find my worth?
Where this uncontrollable feeling can be resisted
Where I could feel my own self once more.

Just for once, I want to be far from him, in all aspects.

"What are you doing here?" a chill went up my spine the moment it's voice went into my ears.

I didn't bother turning around to meet him. I tried to neglect him but he, with low patience, slammed the desk beside me with impulse that I instantly looked to him.

Only to see those familiar cold eyes.

"Skipping," I calmly replied, amazed how I managed to be fine.

"Go to your damn club, you juvenile,"  he spat out the words with distate, eyeing me with disgust.

I closed my eyes, then opened them. "It doesn't mean that I skipped my club means I'm a juvenile."

"So you can actually talk?" he sarcastically replied.

I didn't reply but continued to write my heartfelt thoughts through the ripped paper.

I could sense a new song being composed by myself, because of him, again.

I waited for a few seconds before he'd blew up. When he did, he grabbed my paper and eyed it, judging it as his eyes scanned every word.

"Horrible,"  then he managed to rip the paper more until it became shreds that fell on the floor.

Rage started to build in my chest, my fists clenched and with a second I punched him.

My fists on his cheeks felt good as his head tilted by the force. Then my hands trembled in horror to my realization.

I just punched him.

Shit. It felt good.