──★ ˙🍓𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐄! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒(?) ̟ !!
❝Did the idea of being a part of a harem sound appealing? No, it didn't. Obviously.
You, a young woman from the real world, tr...
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⇣ 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙼𝙰𝙳𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝙰 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂𝚂？⇡
The ivory noon sun starts to daze. It was still blue, but it looked seemingly tired, but always awake, no matter where it goes, it shines. School was close on being done, but you decided to buy something before you had to sort out some documents for a student. Apparently, you had to work with another student.
Having left the convenience store, you hold a heart-shaped box of chocolate in your hand, while whistling a tune that you had just came up with right off the bat. Your shoes clack against the ground softly, but audible enough for anyone to hear your footsteps.
You stare at the heart-shaped box, wondering to yourself why you bought such a big size. It was unnecessary, you know, but why did you do it? Was it because you were feeling the need of chocolate? Was it because you saw everyone buying it and decided to try it out? All of those answers could be right. They could've. Like when that boy you thought was handing you a box of chocolate, only for you to think that it was maybe for you, just for you and only for you. It wasn't you.
It has become a habit. Every year for Valentine's Day, dozens of boxes of chocolate for none other than your older sister, Lavinia, was delivered by none other than the number 1 mailman, you.
"Please give this to Lavinia!" a boy said. He was just a grade above you, yet this act is childish. It was a recent and unpleasant memory. Another Valentine's day for lovebirds and family. You stand in front of him, in the hallway that had his group of friends booing him for his cowardice, and not confessing to his crush beforehand. You find it funny to say the least. It was straight out of a sitcom! Your sister was the main character, having a group of men falling for her left and right. How unpleasant.
Fed up, you huffed out a sigh of bittersweet annoyance. "No. Deliver it yourself." And with that, you turn your heel and walk away. Your belly started to grumble with disgust, as you grit your teeth. Sweat, tiny beads of sweat, trickled down your face and hit the floor, as you can hear the boy now talking shit about you behind your back. How rude. How unpleasant.
And so, you make your way down that same hallway, with the light being more calm and endearing compared to the delightfulness of the morning.
Making a quick turn from the hallway, you stop to see a young, golden boy standing in front of the classroom. Claude. Ah yes, Claude. A childhood friend your sister tells you, and for some reason, he always had cold persona that he puts up. You remember only fragments of him from when you were younger, only because of your accident. Your sister told you that he enjoyed your presence, you believe otherwise. When you talked him months ago to try and catch up, including the years before that too, he looked as if he wanted to kill you, but treated you as someone who had never existed. Someone he had never met.
Claude Obelia. Strange name, strange personality, and a strange look on his face that made you sweat.
His eyes are fragmented into to that of lapis jewels that seemingly flicker with none other than fury. A tethered fury that burned into whatever that he's looking at. But that fury looked unphased. Like he had knew this was coming. Like he knew what angered him so much, had happened more than once. Only for it to show, to linger, to spill.
