𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍 | " 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭? "
Both trying to understand the
meaning of dangerous attraction,
it was an ongoing rivalry between
two former criminals. Somewhere
amidst vicious Ti...
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CHAPTER FOUR CAFETERIA FOOLS
•••
"What am I even doing?"
Sighing at her reflection on the glass window of her room, thinking that she looked was an understatement.
The flimsy curtains were fully drawn open, letting in the following afternoon rays peek in, almost blinding her if a few clouds hadn't swooped in and blocked the sun. A breeze wafted by. Chirps of birds rang like an alarm clock. And she stood alone in her room for a long moment of silence. Eyes gazing her appearance. Teeth gritted together. Fist tightly squeezed by her side. Her first thoughts were after waking up that it wouldn't be so dreadful today. Considering Oluo didn't bother to barge in like yesterday and grumble for her to stand up. She took it as a sign that she would be readying herself on her own pace.
She was proven wrong as she was struck with realization.
Freya's hands dropped by her sides after she tugged the black ribbon tying her dirty blonde hair into a low ponytail. Thin strands framed her face, frayed bangs tickled the top of her eyebrow. Annoyance surged in her, feeling absurd by her image. This wasn't like her, to be so compliant and obedient, although, she wasn't really going to make it feel so easy for them either.
The first week of training, barely even starting, but yet she definitely loathed it.
The white collared polo was tight when she finished buttoning it up, except for top two buttons around her neck, freeing up space for her and collarbone to breathe. That, and she didn't want to feel like being choked. She hated how inconveniently white her trousers are and more so with the brown sash wrapped around her waist, covering her hips. The only thing she truly accepted without reluctance and multiple curses was the leather harnesses going across her chest, shoulders, waist and thighs, along with the knee-high brown leather boots. She continued to asses her appearance by the window.
A mirror wasn't exactly available and she had to make do with any shiny spot that reflected her image. Though, it would be better if it didn't. Her nose would scrunch up if she caught the mere sight of herself to be so different in a bright attire. Releasing another sigh, she stared down at her hands that held onto the short, light brown jacket. The Wings of Freedom was embedded on either shoulders, the front left pocket, and unfortunately, adorning the backside in a large symbol. A need to rip them apart surged in her. It certainly wouldn't be difficult.
She inhaled deeply. "This... is definitely new." New and excruciating. A far appearance from her usual dark apparel.
