[Amber]
Amber was going to be late.
She dashed through the halls of the university, her tote bag clasped tightly to her chest. Her new slippers, courtesy of the hotel, were horrendously squeaky on the polished tiles. The sound screamed and echoed through the corridor, screechy like a wailing cat.
A couple of students shot angry looks at her as if she were an uncouth barbarian frolicking in their midst. A wolf in sheep's skin, a cockroach in their lamb roast. But she couldn't care less. She didn't care about their elitist opinions and judgemental tendencies.
She was going to be late for a class.
A class in which the professor would be issuing a new assignment. Their final project that would be done during the holidays.
Knowing the professor, she wouldn't be able to get away with just a second or two of tardiness. He was another one of those teachers who seemed to be pissed at the world and at life. He was the kind of person to lash out at any student who accidentally looked at him funny that day, simply because he was stressed.
He was the kind of person who believed that he was right and the world was wrong because he had the qualifications to declare so. She didn't know how such a stubborn pig-headed person was allowed to become a teacher but here she was, running late for his class.
Shit.
Just the thought of her professor sent a jolt of fear through her and she quickened her steps. She wasn't a particularly confident person, especially when it came to facing authoritative figures. Her confidence appeared only when she couldn't give a shit about the situation or when she was angry as hell.
She didn't want her ass kicked today. Hell, she didn't want to fail her first semester, especially since she worked her ass off to pay for each expensive lesson.
Sure, Hikaru had offered to pay for the rest but this was funded by her own sweat and tears. This was funded by her deteriorating health and lack of sleep. There had to be some kind of reward for slaving away at the club. And this, in some weird twisted sense, was her reward.
It was partially Hikaru's fault that she was running late.
She groaned at the thought, shaking her head. Although a small, fond smile flickered across her lips. The guy had turned off her alarm without even realising that it wasn't even his phone.
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry when she had woken up an hour later to his face plastered to the pillow with her phone pressed to his chest. His hair had been an adorable mess of curls, his sweet face puffy and a little swollen from sleep.
He was adorable, as usual, and she didn't blame him for the blunder at all although he did blame himself. She had exited the toilet to Hikaru speed dialling the concierge for clothes and slippers in her size.
The both of them tore out of the hotel at breakneck speed, with Hikaru, half in tears. When they hit the car, he turned into a blubbering apologetic mess as he drove as fast as he could, promising to pay her back for his mistake. It had been a wild morning and here she was running with nothing but her phone, a stationery set from the hotel and her ruined sketchbook.
God, she was such a mess. A scared, but happy mess because the recent turn of events had been surprisingly fantastic and Hikaru was hers forever.
She turned the corner, spotting the doors to the lecture theatre. A sigh of relief escaping her lips at the lack of the bell. What time was it? She didn't know, but she was definitely still on time if the bell had not rung.
The awfully cheery tune was always the symbol of death and doom for the late student. She sped forward, reaching to grab the handle of the door only to slam headfirst into a warm hard body coming from the opposite direction.
Again.
This was starting to get old.
The force sent her flying backwards, blindsiding her for a moment. Her shitty slippers gave way beneath her feet, lacking in the necessary friction to save her from the fall.
Her eyes swam as her head spun from the impact, momentarily confused by the feeling of vertigo. She would have landed on her ass if not for the large hand on her waist. Warm fingers cupped her waist and pulled her forward and back onto her feet easily. She blinked, her eyes wandering to the shocked face before her, feeling a sense of déjà vu.
Wang JieMi.
Her mood soured at the sight before her, even if her body involuntarily took deep breaths of his scent. Sweet like vanilla in baked pear bread and somehow masculine with that tangy scent of the sea. She would recognize this smell anywhere, having been in his damn body twice in her short lifetime.
Yet again, he gave her his stupid deer in headlights look. The kind where his pretty doe shaped eyes widened until the entire circle of his black pupils were visible in the whites of his eyes. His moist pink lips dropping open into a tiny little 'o', the rosy pink a reminder of their previous activities together.
She darted her gaze upwards, not interested in getting horny at the sight of this asshole. She daringly stared right into his eyes, forcing herself to look head-on at the demon from her nightmares.
In the light of the morning sun, the colour of those dark brown pupils was hazelnut and cream. A soft, gentle brown like caramel syrup and pudding. They were warm and soft, sweet and gentle with not an ounce of malicious intent.
She hated this, hated how her body and mind melted at the sight of him, spewing sweet nothings in praise of his looks. And yet something within her fumed and bristled with anger and sorrow.
All her problems began with his eyes and still she thought of them as pretty. She should be describing them as dog shit and cat piss instead of sugary sweets and cream.
He met her gaze and she watched as those dark pupils dilated in the light, blowing up as they roamed across her face. Pitch black circles consuming the pretty browns of his eyes. The uglier shade was a welcoming change and she relished in it, attempting to fuel the flames of her hatred.
These eyes were the colour of constipated poop from someone who hadn't eaten any vegetables for a whole damn month. Hold on...Amber blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of the situation. Were they switching? She wrinkled her nose, testing the waters.
They weren't!
She frowned, her eyes narrowing into slits as she pushed at his grasp in an attempt to escape his hold. Only his grip on her waist was surprisingly tight and he refused to budge seemingly not getting the cue to move.
He continued, standing there like a damn statue, his hands on her waist and his eyes stuck to her face like glue. She growled, struggling openly this time and pounding her fist lightly on his chest. She wanted to describe them as harsh punches but honestly, Amber was incapable of causing her soulmate bodily harm.
"JieMi!" She hissed. They weren't switching! Couldn't he see that?
He blinked, finally snapping out of his daze and he flinched backwards. His fingers left her waist, lingering a little too long for comfort on her hips. A light dust of pink erupted over his cheeks, hidden dimples revealing themselves as he pursed his lips together. His blush was probably a reaction of shame from helping her out.
Amber shook her head, stepping towards the door to make her move. She wanted him out of her life, out of her lane. She'd gotten over him with enough tears to create a swimming pool and she wanted his toxic poison out of her mind.
She needed to get to class. ASAP.
"Hey!" He stopped her pulling her back forcefully with a harsh grip on her wrist and she turned glaring at him. Her expression dripping with loathing even if the warmth of their soul melt bond made her insides gooey and sweet.
He gestured to the ground furiously and her eyes darted downwards finally noting the spilt drink on the floor. A Styrofoam cup rolled pathetically on the pretty tiles, the dark brown liquid from inside it running across the asphalt in tiny sweeping rivulets.
He glared. "Pay me back!" He snapped, glowering at her while stomping closer, his larger form looming over her smaller frame.