family friend (reader x martinus)

18

(y/n pov)

me and marcus sat down in our first class.

i still had anaemia, but it was much better, and i was able to take in some knowledge throughout the day.

our first class was norwegian.

it was easy, it was my home language, but i always preferred to speak norwegian.

the teacher had explained to me how it was okay for me to not understand some words and such.

so for most of the lesson i ended up playing with marcus' hand, controlling his fingers and such, under the table.

he had some rings on, i put them on, focusing on the sizing, but my hands were much smaller.

(marcus pov)

in norwegian, i couldn't really focus, y/n kept on playing with my fingers but i found it really cute.

she was very focused on my hands and realised i had rings.

she took some off and placed it on her fingers, the rings fell all the way down since they were too big.

"oh" she said, taking them off.

"sorry" she said, putting them back on my hands, but on the wrong fingers.

"it's okay" i said, taking them off and putting them back on the correct fingers.

"i wish i had rings" she said.

"really?" i said, finally starting a conversation wait her since she was quiet most of the time.

although she stumbled on some words, i would still listen, her voice was different, but throughout the conversation it sounded more like her voice when she did talk more.

i remember her mentioning simple rings, with stones in the middle.

she also mentioned rings that are bronze, not silver or gold.

i learnt loads of things about her in that one conversation.

and i think it's because she didn't want to open up so much after we came back home for four years.

she was probably cautious and thought we found better friends, and that we wouldn't care as much about her interests anymore.

but her interests made her even more interesting than before.

"i like bronze, it reminds me of a childhood memory i had with this girl at a beach"

"bronze was mentioned a lot in this art period a long time ago, it interests me a lot"

"i remember reading this one book, full of quotes, and i've been trying to figure out if it pointed out my personality, i think it pointed out my soul more than my personality"

her literacy hasn't changed though, i was happy she was getting back to being herself.

the lesson finished, i learnt a lot.

we had english next.

i had to follow her timetable FYI.

i was sitting next to her the whole time.

when we entered the class, the teacher was sobbing.

martinus came in, also slightly unhappy.

it was clear that he was unhappy with himself.

"y/n, i hope your well"

"you too miss.. i-i'm so sorry if i um- what's the word"

"forget some things.." i added, she nodded.

"that's okay, y/n, is marcus here to accompany you?"

she looked at me, i looked at her smiling.

"he is" she said

"that's good"

the lesson started.

this lesson was pretty personal, we had to make poems, and i knew y/n was good at them.

we were writing poems about some experiences we had been in.

y/n was focused in english.

i looked at her page, she looked at me, gulping.

she looked much more serious.

"are you okay?" i asked.

she gulped again, nodding, and looking down at her paper.

her eyes slightly wide open, as if she put some pieces together.

(y/n pov)

all this information hit me so suddenly.

the boy i had been sitting to was marcus, martinus' brother.

i couldn't tell who pushed me out.

"did you push me out?" i whispered.

"pardon?" he said, looking at me confused and also slightly nervous.

"out of the house.. some time ago.." i said.

(marcus pov)

my eyes widened, realising that she had been talking about... that time..

she looked horrified, and my heart started to beat faster and faster.

i didn't know what to say.

"sorry-" she said, realising she was making me nervous, she stormed out of the classroom, almost stumbling and tripping on the way.

it caught the teachers attention, and she followed y/n shortly afterwards.

i looked onto the page she wrote on, and my assumptions of her memory coming back had proved me right when i read that poem of hers.

i wish i didn't read that poem.