𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙖・tpn

06・little bunny

♪( 'θ｀)ノ warning- nothing!
—
・3rd pov

The clicking of pens and the cold sweat dribbling down her tear-stained cheeks, her fingers rapidly scratching against the paper's surface as she annotated passages over passages of textbook letters.

A beautiful scene of the moonlight shining down her hair, the drip of water glistening down her eyes. It would've been a beautiful image for all if she wasn't seen in such a hurried and stressed position.

The paper, the ink, the highlights, the questions— she felt as if they were all taunting her, wait no, they were taunting her. The overwhelming amount of letters and words escalating from one minute to another, she felt sick to the stomach.

She didn't remember the last time she even had a break, what time was it anyway? Probably two o' clock in the morning based on the moon reflecting her, but she didn't have time to think about that. She needed to think harder.

The girl had to use her talent, her only skill in surviving this stress-building household... so, why? Why is nothing coming to mind? She remembered the little to no praises she received from her parents when she was younger, her future was already written to the line of destiny.

Growing up, she held promises. She held the promise of becoming successful and to become the heir to her family's mansion, her memories that were stubbornly plastered in her brain was the key to her success— the key to her survival, yet nothing related to her work came to mind.

The textbooks she read, the articles she memorized, they aren't coming into view! She could practically hear the voices of disappointment from her parent's,

"Look at you, you had so much potential back then... what
on earth happened to you?"

No. She didn't have potential, she was a cheat. It was only one to a million that she was able to have photographic memory, the rest of her siblings had talent. She didn't.

She was utterly useless.

—

Willow's eyes shot wide open as she clutched her chest to catch her breath, glancing rapidly back and forth and over to the grandfather clock besides her, she slightly groaned at the aching of her back. Did she really just take a nap in the library? How long was she out anyways...

The sound of a creaking door broke out of her train of thoughts.

"W- Willow?" A quiet voice spoke out.

The ravenette stretched her limbs and looked behind her to see a familiar blonde, pig-tailed girl with a bunny plushie by her side. [a/n- please don't make conny jokes if they aren't original, they are getting repetitive]

"Ah, it's you Conny," Willow spoke out, "Do you need anything?"

The girl looked down to her feet and played with her fingers bashfully, "Well... since you weren't able to play with everyone else in tag for my last day... I was wondering if you could help me change my clothes."

Oh yeah, Willow remembered, it's Conny's last day there. That should mean that the story is starting to take form.

The tanned orphan was going to miss the little girl don't get her wrong, but over the years in Grace Field she always tried her best to avoid any contact with the kids who she knew was going to get shipped away according to the story— to put it simply, she didn't want to get attached.