Opposites Repel - Liskook

Chapter 29 ~ Fire Alarm

3rd Person's POV ~ 

"I c-can't breathe." She begs, barely walking. Tears were streaming out of her amused eyes as silent laughter rolled away from her lips. "O-ow." 

"Shit, I broke you, didn't I ?" He grins, taking her hand and helping her away from the pigeons that had previously pecked the life out of his feet. 

"Yeah, and now you have to help me back to class." She laughs lightly, her legs trembling from the effort of guffawing earlier. 

"You look like one of those lovely lunch ladies." He grins at her hunched over form. Her back was slightly slouched, his hand holding her forearm to help her walk. She freezes, her hair trembling as the laughter starts to brew again. 

"Are you going to hide behind me ?" She teases, walking normally yet a bit slower than him. He keeps his arm around her regardless, and neither of them bother to pull away. 

"You know, I just might." He winks. "Either that or I'll set those demonic pigeons after her." 

"You're insane..." She chuckles, the breeze sifting through her soft russet locks. 

The park by the school campus was nothing like those of the smaller towns. Theirs were miniature formal gardens for the elderly that had retired there for the quiet life. They had benches, ornamental and shabby trees, flowers year round and water fountains in clear lakes that were stocked with Koi carp. But not here. Not in the big city. 

Here, a park meant acres of concrete interspersed with neat grass verges. We have rollerblading tracks, tennis courts, basketball courts, water parks and skate boarder basins. There are vendors with hotdogs and burgers, vendors with curry and rice, vendors with tacos and sour cream. There's always music, sometimes clashing from various sources, none of them official. We don't have colour from roses or asters, but it is more vibrant than any planned garden. 

Lisa's foot bounds along the squares of cement lined with grass, promptly avoiding the neat trims of vegetation. He smiles at the childish act, watching endlessly as the toes of her foot touch gracefully on the ground. 

"Ha," He scoffs when she takes long strides, passing by 3 or 4 spaces of cement in one go. Her legs tremble slightly like anyone else's would had they taken up the task of playing the random game. "Pathetic." 

"And that's coming from a boy dressed for tea time." She shoots right back. He smiles, pretending to give up irritably and imitating her now shortened length of steps. 

"We should get to class." He says, the sound of their feet shuffling over the sidewalk somewhat calming. 

"Yeah." She shrugs. "We probably should." 

After several minutes of useless yet meaningful chatter and walking, they'd finally reached the school foyer, books in hand. 

The halls are dressed in black and white and the tiles are a checker board with humans as the pieces. The whole building sends a chill down her spine and reminds her of something out of the narrowest depth of her imagination. 

The large marble ceilinged building made the air frosty and brittle, the warmth of the sun outside fading away as they walked further and further into the school.  They pushed open the classroom door together, sending a glance drowned with exhaustion before sitting in their seats. 

Back in the classroom, a gang of troublesome teenagers unwillingly wearing the school uniform could be seen performing the rebellious act of tying their burgundy jackets around their waists, against the school's policies. Taking advantage of not being under surveillance by an adult, the rowdy teenagers, easily distinguishable by the burgundy wrap around their waist, pulled out their prohibited phones, and the sound of camera shutters clicking against each other filled the room as they ridiculously posed for the picture using unrecognizable facial expressions. 

Another set of youngsters were blaring ear-splitting music whilst drumming powerfully on the unstable desks, producing a deafening cacophony that could be heard through the corridors. Paper airplanes were being manufactured with great precision at one end of the classroom and flown to the other end, hitting several annoyed children on the way and earning a good amount of foul-mouthed words in return. In the corner of the room, a set of studious youngsters wearing large circular black-rimmed glasses, snorted loudly as they smiled fondly at the books they were reading. 

The professor walks in, her pinched bun high as ever in the air, not a strand drifting by. Almost as if someone had flipped a switched, the jacket-waisted teens had sat down, ripping their blazer off their waist and setting them on the tables in front of them. The music had ceased, and the drumming against the wood had stopped, yet the bookworms simply pushed their novels slightly below their desks and continued to read. 

The teacher had the look of one who had grown too fast in her youth, her bulk never catching up to her bones. She had to duck on entering the room, before edging toward her vinyl desk in her corduroy jacket and decade old flared sweeping trousers. The students couldn't look at her without being reminded of their grandma. She had the same waning but wild brown hair and the way she held her lanky frame and gestured with her hands reeked of elderly knowledge. 

Within half an hour of entering the room, the kids at the back of the auditorium had prepared a banquet of food for themselves, elegant sandwiches and fast foods spread across. The class dragged on endlessly, pencils dangling entrancingly between Lisa's fingers. 

Suddenly, a shrill bell had run across the classroom, the small black spuds extruding from the ceiling. All the sound had stopped for a split second, and Jungkook stared right at her with a questioning glance, his eyebrow lifted and his head cocked to the side. 

The black stubs began spraying jets of water every which way, a robotic voice screeching over and over again. 

"Fire leeway, please exit the building. Fire leeway, please exit the building. Fire leew-" 

"Everybody stay calm !" The professor screeches. "It's just a drill." 

"My shirt !" Lisa hisses, looking down upon it as it sticks to her body. 

Now might be a bad time to mention that the fabric was white. 

White and very, very wet.