🕷❘ Ⲧⲱⲉⲛⲧⲩ - Ⲟⲛⲉ ❘ 𝖠𝗉𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖫𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌

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A couple of days had passed and school was starting to get a bit better, only because you had gotten used to the pointing fingers, whispers-behind-hands, and the obvious criticism.

The doors of the Sanctum shut close as Wong strode into it, holding a letter in his hand, "Strange!" he skidded in his place due to the ice and snow covering the floor and caught the door handle to catch himself just in time.

"Yeah?" both you and your father ran into the hallway above the staircase in the middle of the Sanctum, peeping out to look down at him.

"First one's here,"

You had all sat around the dining table, staring at the opened-up envelope which had your the rejected application letter.

"It's okay," Stephen rubbed your shoulder in comfort, "It's just back up school, right?"

"Yeah," you nodded in low spirits, thanking Wong as he handed you a mug of hot chocolate.

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"Come on," Wong nudged you, "Open it," he pointed at the letter on the coffee table as you sat on the couch.

With great difficulty, you and Wong were able to clear off all the snow and ice residues from the couch, because it was something you all used frequently.

"No, I'm too scared," you pulled your knees to your chest as you leaned back on the couch, "'Cause I feel like it's a 'no' but at the same time, I wanna open it to see if I'm right,"

Wong stared at you, deeply unimpressed, "Just open it. I went all the way to get it,"

"To the doorstep?" you deadpanned.

"You wouldn't go, so yeah, I had to go. From my room to the doorstep," he added dramatically.

"No, no, no," You pulled your Cape of Inferno over your head, obscuring your face from his view, "You open it and tell me what it says,"

Sighing, he complied with your wishes, noticing your frenzied state. Stephen had walked into the room, noticing the new letter, and peeped over Wong's shoulder to read.

"No?" you peeked out of your Cape, wincing slightly. Wong shook his head 'no' with a pitying look.

"Ugh," you pushed your Cape off from your head, rolling your head about in frustration.

"It's okay, honey," your father rubbed your shoulders in an attempt to console you.

"I just feel like I'm letting you down, Dad," you admitted, ducking your head low.

"What do you mean?" Stephen sat on the couch beside you with a frown.

"I—" you sighed, "Well, you're like this amazing surgeon, who studied in a good college. And then there's me," you gestured at yourself, "Getting rejected from backup schools," you flicked the paper on the table with a pout, "Now, that's a record,"

❰𝟰.𝟭.𝟭❱ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ➣ {𝕡•𝕡} ❘ [ 𝖓𝖜𝖍 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 ]Where stories live. Discover now