The Continent of Europe

Chapter 15's

...CHAPTRE 15...

...WHO IS SHE?...

Rosaline narrowed her eyes trying to banish the sunlight that entered her eyes as she looked up. At a glance from her narrow gaze, Rosaline could see a blond male figure standing in front of her.

"James?" Rosaline said she suspected the name of the blonde man in front of her.

There was a snorting sound coming from the man before he said, "where is Clark?" He asked slightly shifted his body for Rosaline to look the other way and was no longer buffeted by the sunlight that blinded her eyes.

Rosaline lowered her head, relieved to finally get away from the sunlight. He checked his phone screen which showed it was still 11pm and returned to paying attention to the blond man who was already standing next to him.

"The class should be finished by now. This time Clark and I took a different course, so I'm here" he said long just a little chat.

The smile that Rosaline placed on her face instantly faded right when again there was the sound of a snorting of breath from the man. He was ashamed of himself. Also true. Whoever asked why he was there and not with Clark.

Stupid rosaline.

He glanced timidly at James who still remained silent standing in his place and turned his gaze when he found that the man was looking at him as well.

In contrast to his lover who always looked at him low and full of investigation. The blond man's eyes were even flat. His face had no expression at all. Flat as a board.

"I warned you, never call me by my first name. I don't want my first name being called by someone lower than me."

Rosaline rubs her lower lip. Yep. Yep. Yep. Once the golden money remains the golden money. Whether it was just his feelings, Rosaline always heard the word 'low' that always came out of the mouth of the second golden money.

Are there no better words they could say?

Looks like Rosaline has to give them both a dictionary of English vocabulary so that their vocabulary knowledge becomes even better.

"Then what should I call you?" Rosaline asked, her tone of voice a little challenging even though the girl still refused to look at the man next to her.

"My family name. Adlers. Not James. Only a handful of honorable people can call me by my first name."

So Clark is an honorable man so he can call the man by his first name?

Rosaline subconsciously put a sliced smile on her face. He instantly felt foolish as his head briefly reminded him back about his first impression of the golden money.

Once the golden money will remain the golden money. It seemed like their arrogance had been flesh blood since the first time their ancestors established trade relations and made a position in government.

How beautiful, inner Rosaline.

"Then Adler," he called again.

The man nodded stiffly. "Smith" she said, and somehow to Rosaline, she found it funny how she called her surname, which wasn't even her real surname.

A moment of silence struck. The two people who were in the shade of the shady tree simultaneously focused their attention as the sound of footsteps ran towards the corridor.

Rosalyn. Squinted his eyes. Bad taste immediately enslaved in the heart for a moment the sound of loud snapping was heard from that direction. His head immediately wondered what else had happened in the corridor.

Somehow and when, the corridor of the faculty of architecture and development at the University of Westminster was always a silent witness to the many events.

And usually it always involves Clark. The most respected golden money boy in all of England.

Without a second thought, Rosaline moved her legs running towards the corridor, leaving James, aka Adler, still standing there.

With a misty mind and breath that was stung from running, Rosaline popped her head out peering over the wall.

Over there. Clark. Again. A woman with glasses sits on the floor.

Oh jesus. What else did he do? Inner Rosaline screamed.

As her legs took a swing to run over, Rosaline was stuck and immediately pushed back as a pull pulled her backwards. He turned his head, finding James pulling the hoodie head he was wearing.

With one eyebrow raised, Rosaline's facial expression seemed to say, 'what the fuck?' He thrashed around making James let go of his grip on the girl's hoodie.

"There's no need to help her with that pretentious attitude of your hero. If you're afraid you don't have to fight. Just accept your fate that you were weak."

"But..."

Brak!!

Rosaline's head turned quickly after a loud voice came back to her ears. He dared to swear there was a cracking sound he heard as his head moved, as if a bone was shifting in there.

He rounded his eyes wide, watching Clark throw Asher's tiny body until the girl collided with the corridor wall behind him.

Clark. His hands instantly grabbed Asher's coarse hair and Asher could only wriggle in pain.

His gaze lowered, the corners of his lips lifted up and an aura of hatred poured out from his body. Demonstrate the dominant side of power that makes Asher's body tremble in fear.

"Know your place, fool. Just because your design is praised by the professor doesn't mean you're equal to me!" Clark screeching.

He pulled the head of Asher and brought together the two eyes of the girl — who was protected by the glasses— lens with his anger-filled bead.

"sick! Please let go!" Stimulants.

Asher involuntarily let a speck of clear water drop down from the end of his eyes before the water came down profusely and soaked his cheeks.

Clark. Instead of stopping after hearing the girl's heartbreaking tone, she strengthened the grip of her hand on her hair, as mocking laughter spread right through the girl's mouth.

"I beg you, take off my hair, please" again.

Rosaline who had been standing near them. Feeling his heart being crushed hard like a clothesline. His legs could no longer bear to run over and rescue Asher from Clark's clutches.

But he realized. I remember what James said a few minutes ago. The man is right. He would be able to do nothing but stand still, join forces like the others and watch Clark bully the woman.

She has no power to fight.

There was no courage to resist.

Don't know why he's scared.

"Listen here you little ****! I'm the golden money and you're the lowlife I'd like to destroy from this world. You're just a ya— bacteria"

THUDS!

A book floated right into Clark's head making his words cut off. Everyone in the corridor turned wide, even Clark himself.

The thick book that had just floated into the head of the golden money created a huge noise as it landed onto the floor surface, making the surroundings of the corridor instantly silent.

Clark. The one still in shock slowly turned around while releasing his grip from Asher's hair. He grimaced, holding his head that was throbbing pain as his eyes caught a woman walking towards him with a sinister face.

"What the fuck?!" Exclaims.

The woman was silent. He stopped right in front of Clark and ruffled his waist. His eyes scanned the surroundings of the corridor, giving a sinister look to every person who surrounded them.

"I don't care if you're the golden money or anything. If I think you're doing something wrong, it's wrong. I won't hesitate to stop you, unlike all the useless people here."