Regret

27: Ttak Geollyeosseo

Third Person's POV

"It's funny how our first college year resulted to Usain Bolt speed." a voice startled a classmate walking out the cafeteria. He raised his crown to face the voice's owner, "You nearly wasted my apple." taking final bites from it and properly disposing the remains in the nearest bin.

"Yeah. Care for a bar?" she, who owns the voice, offered casually to her classmate whose tummy is currently occupied by uneven bits of an apple. He was shortly hesitant but decided to grab her offer. "Thanks and welcome." he mouthed and she repeats. They moderately walked pushing themselves to their respective room receiving a gust of icy wind in front of the doorway.

"What on earth was that? That's not like our air conditioner." she talks on the short breeze from the aperture. Stepping in, one of them became suspicious. "I've felt this before. The aircon can't be that cold. Someone has something to do with it, I can't be wrong." he pungently mutters, seconds after eating the bar whole. Nothing but his mind compels him to peek behind the minimally-gapped thick curtains in the left corner of their room, which is designated with its circle rod for dressing or primping up or whatnot. He did so, the small view causing him to tremble mentally. He gripped her wrist and pulled her quietly outdoors.

"You look like you're haunted. 'Sup with you? Why the rush?"

He beckoned her to trail with him slowly back to the classroom. "You're acting strange. Spill it." she demands. He sighs then "DidIreallyseewhatIseecauseCelesteliterallyblewfrostinthecurtains." "Hey this isn't a rap battle!" she quietly blurted. He repeated them legibly and lowly, earning her gasp. Both ended up quiet back to their classroom with blank gazes to a Celeste in her assigned seat conversing with Ah-Seun, Gaiea, Miku, and Neil surrounding her loosely. The duo trailed to their own seats somewhere in the middle. One of them took responsibility of texting a few particular members of his gang: Me. You. My apartment. After class. Let's talk. Please.

He who witnessed tarried along the rest of class, down the streets, to his apartment. Irony became a subject, that he came in late after the gang whose feet are glued on the cemented ground beneath the apartment's door.

"You were outstripped." their shortest friend pointed out. "Let's just get in." he said between the rush through the doorway. His buddies have never seen him entirely spooked that way.

"You know what man, your face isn't...you, I mean you don't seem normal today." said their friend slash classmate going through a lake of his comrade's garbs, sorting and piling them up in his cabinet.

"Not normal, yes." he agrees absentmindedly.

"Spill. You've got something to say to us, cocksure." one of them voiced. He turned and sat in the proper posture.

"Y-yeah. Precisely why I gathered you here. And you wouldn't believe what I will narrate." he, the witness, galloped to the fridge and snatched away a jug of lemonade, took four plastic cups, and returned.

"Go ahead." came from the shortest. "Fine. Before you all reappeared in our room, I came in with one of our female classmates and the room temperature was unlikely. Imagine it abate from eighteen degrees Celsius to negative three. It convinced me that it is someone's responsibility. As if I was  nudged to pry between our dressing curtains, I did."

"Someone was in there huh?"

"Correct. One of us produced mini snowflakes and snow in there that faded after a few seconds--" before he mentions the name, they burst into a cacophony of laughs. Such a sight or statement is improbable, although not in the place. "Good show!"