After the tragic death of her parents, Valerie moves halfway across the country to attend an elite school. She takes a new identity to prevent herself from getting picked on at school. With makeup, she's seen as beautiful but without it, she feels u...
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03 : two visuals
first person. VALERIE
"WHAT'S THE MAGIC WORD?" my soul almost left my body at his words. Not only was he handsome and rude, his voice sounded like a dream within a dream. I take a deep breath before using all the energy in me to push my desk forward; even if you're beautiful to me, Zenith, you're still the son of Asta Easton and I can't treat you with kindness after all that's the least I could do for my mother.
"No thanks," Zenith's eyebrows raise slowly at my words. He complies by shifting his chair forward as he does so my pencil case falls on to the ground: causing the whole class to get startled by the stationary spreading out across the floor.
I internally curse him before reaching down to pick up all the pens that fell out. After picking up the last pen I lean on my desk tiredly. It's going to be a long day getting used to this school, with Chandler by my side, I'm sure this day will pass by painfully slow.
"You forgot one," my eyes meet Zenith's, the sun made his features seem divine, with no flaws he sat like a king. It made me feel empty, his beauty was enough to conquer the world but mine was enough to shatter a mirror. It's always the bad guys who live a perfect life, he's rude and insolent but everything seemed to go his way.
I attempt to grab the marker from him but his grip was tight, his actions cause me to frown; why is he behaving like this with me? He ignored me earlier when I tried to give him his name tag, the change of energy was unsettling.
"What's wrong with you?" I whisper, not wanting to attract the attention of the psychology teacher. Zenith glances at me with a blank expression before gesturing towards his shoulder. My jaw drops as I notice a blue coloured stain on his white dress shirt.
How did that happen? I don't remember leaving the lid open for any of my pens— oh, the marker in his grip was blue and it had no lid.
