Insightful

Wonder

Helena awoke to what she believed would be yet another bland day. She hardly ever got matches, and even when she did, she kept losing. 

She felt the surface of her desk for her glasses, but instead, her fingers traced over braille. She gasped in surprise, feeling harder.

"I. . .have feelings for you. . .?" She was bewildered. 

In disbelief, the pale girl worked her fingers over the "note" over and over again. The results remained the same, and she felt the absence of a heartbeat in her chest. Who would've even done this?

"Someone who knows Braille. . ." She muttered to herself, feeling quite frustrated at the prospect of having a secret admirer. Or perhaps, someone who was trying to trick her. 

A voice speaking through manor's intercom pierced into her thoughts, and she quickly pushed her glasses onto her face, seizing her cane, assuming a match. She hadn't gotten one in so long. . . 

But it wasn't for her.

Sighing in defeat, she exited her room, feeling her way down toward the lounge. Hopefully, her new friend, Victor, would be there.

He wasn't.

What a boring life. . .She thought in disappointment. Nothing really ever seemed to work out in her favor, but despite this, she withheld a positive outlook on things. She was happy she at least had a place to stay, that provided her with delicious food and pretty decent company. 

"Helena!" Tracy's upbeat voice lifted Helena's spirits, if only slightly. 

"Tracy?" Helena fidgeted with her cane, wondering if Tracy could possibly be the "sender of love."

"Yeah. Hey, sorry you didn't get a match again." The blonde girl put a hand on Helena's shoulder. "Maybe it's best for you, though." 

Helena could hear the pity in her friend's voice, and she winced, gripping her cane harder. 

"I can do the matches just fine. It's new for all of us." She stammered. 

"Yeah, yeah. I get that. I have a good feeling about this one, though."

"When does it start, again?"

"About fifteen minutes. I'm with Naib, Victor," --Helena perked up at the mention of the Postman-- "and Vera."

Almost as if on cue, Victor made his way into the lounge.

Helena could sense someone's presence, and as a result, she tapped her cane around on the floor. From the frequency of its taps, she could now imagine Victor's tall, thin frame, and heard the way he stiffened when he noticed her attention was on him. She also took note of Tracy leaving the lounge, with a wave of her arm.

"Helena," Victor said softly, although his voice was undertoned with enthusiasm. He sauntered up to her, yet with a slight bounce in his step. 

Before the shorter girl could speak, he asked her how she was.

"I-I'm fine." She replied, feeling her chest tighten as he moved closer to her. 

"That makes me glad to hear." His voice quavered inappreciably.

"How are you, Victor?" She took a measly step away from him.

Victor paused, "Uh. . .I'm well. Thank you for asking." 

Helena then said, in a whisper, "I received a love letter of sorts, this morning."

"Oh!" Victor guffawed. "Do you have an idea as to who it's from?" 

"I don't know. Victor. . ." Without realizing it, she leaned closer to him, and her blind eyes seemed to lock into his. "What if someone's making fun of me?"

"N-no!" The awkward young adult responded immediately.

Helena felt her face start to pulse with heat, and she allowed a lock of her hair to drape over an eye. 

Victor drew in a shallow breath, but before he could speak, the intercom called him in for a match. He shifted his body in what Helena assumed was defeat, before hurriedly shuffling away.

Fifteen minutes already? Time seems so short when it's with him, even if he speaks a bit slowly. Helena's brows furrowed in deep thought. She slumped down onto a reading chair, her head tilted upward and her cane splayed across her lap. She would just have to wait and see who had sent her the "letter." It was her only option.