Peeling her palm off the paper, she grapples onto the book with both hands, flipping through the pages for more information. Unfortunately for her, the words only ramble about information she doesn't care about, who was in the family and what they achieved over the years.
All that the books grant her with is that there was a twist in events that led to a broken connection with other families and a sudden spike in the power of the Ruskin family.
Flinging the book back onto the table, Myra folds her arms in a disgruntled manner, throwing her head back over the couch. Closing her eyes, she sighs, "It feels as if I'm starting from square one about myself… How pathetic."
. . .
Mari isn't the best writer in the world but she knows something about the workings of the world, a little detail that books brush under the carpet—friends are enemies too.
Girls, the ones who you consider your soulmate, your everything, the person you'd cry to when your boyfriend's no longer by your side. They're enemies too, have you thought about it? A label doesn't make a human truly more loyal.
It's an awkward time to be writing, knuckles clenched around a pen and her eyes burning with a familiar determination to finish the last bits in her little story.
Mari's handwriting sprawls across the paper of a notebook she has hidden under her math textbook, page littered with sums here and there from the snippets of time that Mari looks up to listen to the teacher. What she's writing is more than just a story to her—carrying the marvel of a completed trilogy, to her, completing this would be as weighted as sealing her fate.
From her side, Ara watches her with curious eyes, elbow propped against the table and cheek pressed against the edge of her palm. "Mari-unnie, what are you doing?" she whispers as if she hasn't been watching for ten minutes and counting.
Mari purses her lips as she hears a vague whisper in her background, one easy to ignore. A bead of sweat trickles down her temple as she presses on to finish her work. She furrows her brows as the whispering gets louder and turns her head, finding Ara's intent gaze on her.
She looks perturbed, definitely not from the heat, rather from something else. "Eh? Did you call me, unnie?"
"Couldn't you hear me?!" Ara barks, a little agitated. Mari's lips curve into a frown.
"Sorry, I was a little busy—" Mari replies, leaning forward so she can avoid speaking too loudly. To her horror, her teacher took notice of the verbal exchange since Mari spoke up, her voice naturally too loud and too coarse even as she tries to hush it.
A stern frown showing her discontent, the teacher turns, pointing a marker at the girls in disapproval.
"If you were so busy, I'm sure you'll be able to solve this problem over here," she interrupts and in an instant, it feels as if the weight of a hundred gazes are pasted on her.
Mari's eyes widen in surprise, not having intended to disturb the class—or have a proper conversation before it ended, for that mattered. She turns her head to Ara, desperate, hoping she'll cover for her, especially since she has admitted to spending her class time writing.
Contrary to her expectations, Ara has her head turned to the front, pretending as if she had no involvement with Mari speaking.
"But madam—" Mari stands, trying to argue, only cutting herself off upon realising that speaking any further would get Ara into trouble.
Sucking up her discontent with the events, she lowers her head in defeat, ambling to the front of the class in disappointment and bearing the mortification for an action not entirely her fault. Wrapping her fingers reluctantly around the marker, she lifts her gaze to the board, staring at the hangeul in confusion.
Her thoughts evaporate, leaving her with helplessness as the waiting gazes of her classmates strip her to vulnerability. 'Is it worse to get it wrong or not try at all?'
Taking a deep breath, she starts, expression blank but hopeful that she won't mess up. Mari knows she listens better when she's busy with something else, though she can't be sure she picked anything up the past few lessons.
Ara shifts in her chair, staring ahead at her friend with no remorse. Beside her, she hears whispers of students wondering why Mari's taking so long and she smirks, a snicker slipping out of her lips.
Mari turns, bowing to the front of the class, showing that she's done with the sum. The teacher gestures for her to stand at a side, judgemental eyes analysing her working.
A look of surprise replaces her current one, the stoic aura wavering as she realises the answer isn't wrong. Not the most correct but it's a method that works. "Good," the teacher nods, ticking beside the answer. "Go back to your seat."
Hushed voices fall silent as Mari returns to her seat, an air of pride lingering around her. Ara's face drops and she hides this with her bony, pale fingers, eyeing Mari as she ambles back to her seat without a care.
"Hm, maybe I did pay attention a little," Mari remarks, earning a grunt of indignance from Ara.
"Sorry I didn't cover for you," Ara tilts her head to meet Mari's eyes, flashing a grin as wide as her muscles can manage, feigning guilt.
Mari, oblivious to her ulterior intentions, waves her hand dismissively, mouthing a 'I know you didn't mean it.'
When Ara averts her gaze to the front, her bangs barely cover the scowl on her face. It's like the class ends in a second following their interaction, the school bell interrupting the silence of the class. Ara, who has been staring off blankly, flinches, blinking confusedly as she realises the class has ended and the rest of the class is ready to greet the teacher.
She stands up hastily to match the rest of the class and they bow in unison. Ara lets out a huff, fidgeting with the seams of her blazer before sauntering over to Mari's desk with another one of her perfected smiles. It curves onto her lips the exact way it's been trained to do so on several occasions, and still, with all the practice, it feels awkward on her face.
"Mari-ya, what are you working on?" she pokes Mari in the cheek.
"Wah, I'm almost done with this story. Do you want to read it when I'm done?" Mari asks, pursing her lips as she writes even faster.
Ara hums in response, narrowing her eyes at the page and the several others tucked under it. Students shuffle out of the classroom, some others interrupting the silence with the abrupt screeching of their chairs.
Ara sighs, slipping her blazer off her shoulders and propping herself onto a table, watching Mari valiantly push on to get her story to completion.
"Mari-ya, can I see your story? You always talk about it but I've never read it before today," Ara whines, kicking her legs in the air to catch Mari's attention.
Mari frowns at the paper, lifting her pen from it as she realises she's going to require a few more pages if she plans on concluding the story. Actually, she hasn't been able to think of a proper resolution. It centers around the romance between a princess and a prince, a happy romance where they fall in love in the end.
There's not much of a conflict, only a character who can barely be considered a villain. She doesn't manage to get in between them at the end, rather that's the plan if she can find the words to write it out.
Holding the paper up to her face, Mari analyses the words, passing them to Ara. "It's not very good… But I wrote it for someone… You don't have to read the whole thing! It's still incomplete and I'm a bit shy about showing it to anyone else—" and before she can ramble any more, Ara snatches it out of her hands.
Ara organises the papers in her hands, finding the start of the story. It starts as a usual fairytale, nothing special, nothing impressive coming from a highschool girl. She scans it quickly, barely reading it and somewhere along the way, she finds the section she'd been searching for—mentions of the 'prince'. She raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.
"Oya? Is this who I think it's about?" Ara covers her lips with her hands. Mari flushes bright red at the suggestion, burying her heated cheeks in her hands. Ara kicks one leg over the other, snickering at Mari's flusteredness. "I didn't know you liked him this much~ You should have told me it was about him~"
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