Red Velvet x Licorice PG Connected One-Shots

And I'll hold it up with you (Not Connected)

The bell rings loudly, a quick buzz after another. Licorice smacks his book a little bit more harshly than he means to, causing a resounding thud to echo in the now empty classroom. He wants to smack his head on his desk out of frustration.

He gathers his things quickly, precariously balancing his books, one on the other, before almost running out of the classroom. Licorice groans when he's in for hours of studying something he isn't interested in.

Licorice would rather read, and does when he has the chance, about the obscure history of hacking coughs and foul air, or the intricacies of weaving words into sentences into stories; but is stuck learning about the way white blood cells are affected by some old pharmaceutical drug. His parents want him too, so he will, to avoid the sting of being brushed aside.

The hallway is jam packed with people, most of them walking far too slowly for comfort. It's gross how many of them seem to be friends conversing about things that won't matter in a few months.

Licorice sees the color red from the corner of his eyes. He snaps his head quickly towards the familiar stranger, taking note on the way Red Velvet's red-black hair swoops effortlessly, framing his face handsomely.

"You're Licorice, correct?" Red Velvet asks, flexing prosthetic arm in a way that would have been intimidating without the visible dog stickers stuck on the metal surface. Licorice snaps out of his thoughts, hoping that his face isn't red.

Licorice feels the start of a headache at the back of his head. He doesn't want to waste time on one of the most notorious bullies at his school, an example of everything his parents don't want him to be.

"Go away, I'm busy right now." With that he starts walking away, all too aware of eyes staring at him. He may as well painted a target on his back, but the need to get home is more important than his fear.

Red Velvet, to his absolute dismay, continues to follow him. "It'll only take a minute, you'll have time for that," He says in a dismissive tone that grates against Licorice's ears.

"Fine, but make it quick." Licorice grumbles. His eyes glance at the half-broken clock subtly, nervously pulling at his hoodie sleeves.

"My mother, in her high school days, used to reign over this school with an iron fist. She started a club, the Cookies of Darkness," Red Velvets starts. "Now that I'm old enough to start a club, I think we can reinstate the Cookies of Darkness's former glory-"

"Will you just hurry up!" Licorice snaps, his patience running thin. "Stop being so dramatic, this isn't some edgy fantasy novel written by a sixth grader." Red Velvet raises a brow, but continues, albeit a little faster.

"We don't have enough members for the club, and according to my mother, Dark Enchantress, you'll be a good fit for the club." Red Velvet says, his icy blue eyes gleaming. In bright light of the hallway, Licorice notices that one eye is the slightest shade darker.

"I can't join some club, especially with people like you." Licorice says. "It would be nice to, but I doubt my parents would appreciate it." He deadpans, and quickly abandons Red Velvet in the hallway.

"It's a book club!" Red Velvet calls from the other side of the hallway. "Just consider it. The meeting's tomorrow, after school, in B143."

He can't shake the feeling of guilt off of himself. The walk home is slow going at best, with his boots sinking into the thick layer of snow. The grey coat he's wearing, the sleeves too short and the fabric ragged, does little to shield him from the biting wind.