Another Day In Paradise | Danny Johnson x Reader

This All Feels a Little Too Cliche

Monday. Today was Monday. It had been over 24 hours and your head was still hurting, a distant, everlasting throb that just wouldn't leave you alone. The hangover was duller now, much so, but it was just present enough to distract you from your English class more than you'd have liked. The reading of The Raven had concluded already (with you staring blankly at your copy, not seeing the words) and Mr. Lecter was speaking eloquently at the front of the class, elaborating on the basic moral and a few of the key moments; at least, that's what you'd thought he was doing. You didn't notice that he had started asking students for their own personal thoughts until he was calling your name and you were shooting upright in your seat, out of the slumped position you'd fallen into.

"Do you have any thoughts you'd like to share?" Seated on his desk with his hands folded neatly in his lap, Mr. Lecter almost looked as if he were waiting for you to stutter and fail, knowing you hadn't been paying attention. Regathering your momentarily scattered thoughts and sitting more properly in your chair, you cleared your throat and prepared to prove him wrong.

"Lots, actually. I think, evidently, that the symbolism in The Raven tells the story of a lost loved one, the death of this character Lenore. The Raven itself represents grief and sorrow while the chamber that the speaker is in is the physical form of... shutting himself off from the world?" You see the surprise lighting your teacher's gaze and then the glow of astonishment; he was impressed, so you continued, "With the way the Raven flew into the chamber and wouldn't leave, it's communicating with us readers that, no matter how much one might try, grief always has a way of slipping through your mental barriers." You fell silent at last, feeling gazes burn into you from all sides. Jason, who had been perfectly aware that you have been spaced out for the entirety of the class, shot you an 'ok' sign with his fingers and raised his eyebrows, just as taken aback as the teacher. There is a light muttering all around you; your skin begins to crawl. Suddenly, you feel out of place, and can't help feeling like the cliche new kid who's secretly a super genius. That's pretty far off from the truth, if you do say so yourself.

"Well," Mr. Lecter stood from his place seated on his desk and smiled, delighted, "You have quite adept knowledge, (Y/N). You're exactly correct. If the Raven represents sorrow and the Chamber represents an attempt to keep that sorrow out, can anyone tell me what the bust of Pallas symbolizes?" A wave of silence ripples over the classroom all at once- no one knows the answer. A second passes and you're about to raise your hand when you hear a deep sigh, and someone else raises it first; the arm is leather-clad and belonging to the bane of your existence. Oh, this'll be grand! You sit to attention, hands folded on your desk, waiting for him to say something utterly stupid with that pea brain of his. "Mr. Johnson? I'd love to hear what you have to share."

"Well," He mumbled, leaning back in his chair and rolled his pencil between his fingers, "The bust of Pallas refers to the Greek goddess of wisdom, Pallas Athena. The bust represents sanity, wisdom, scholarship- that type of stuff, y'know?" He paused, flicking his gaze deliberately towards you. An effortless smirk stretched over his lips, and as he often did he lifted his chin in a belittling manner, "When the Raven lands on this statue, it's, like... like the speaker's rationality is being threatened. The bird's refusal to move shows even more that the speaker's grief, represented by the bird, is immovable and slowly obstructing his rational thought." Again, a hush of silence. Nothing moved for a full three seconds, just Danny's victorious golden eyes glittering with pride and locked with your own. Finally, Mr. Lecter let out a hum, and you turned to see he was smiling pleasantly.

"Well done, the both of you. I think the both of you will work great together." Confusion flares within you like a flashbang, sudden and warm and sickening. Work together? In what? "That brings us to our next topic, class- a group project!" Protest erupted from the students, hushed from some and exclaimed more boisterously by others, but Mr. Lecter ignored it, simply speaking over the noise and not standing for the complaints. "In groups of three you'll be writing a detailed essay on the topic of The Raven, exploring the three symbolic figures just spoken about by our two students; I expect something in depth, exemplary. You're all model students, or at least have the potential to be." His gaze turned back to you, steady just as it always was. "Mx. (L/N), Mr. Johnson, I would like the two of you to work together with Ms. Vaughan." You heard a girl's little gasp, pivoting to scope out who it was you were being partnered with- in the split second it took for you to turn around you hoped and prayed that it was someone useful, someone pleasant, but of course, just your luck, it wasn't. Ms. Vaughan was the brunette, hazel-eyed bitch who had definitely slept with Danny at the party last Saturday night. She grinned from ear-to-ear and thrummed her perfect, nude-toned nails against the desk in anticipation. You didn't even want to look at what Danny's face must resemble; you guessed some mixture of disgust and excitement, thrilled at the thought of being able to tank your English grade. This, too, felt cliche. As if you were in some shitty romance movie where the world kept shoving the two of you together despite all odds; but this story, the story with you and Danny Johnson, would absolutely not end in romance. Not a chance.