FAIRY TALE
noun: fairytale
- something resembling a fairy tale in being magical, idealized, or extremely happy.
modifier noun: fairy-tale
"a fairy-tale romance"
• Based on the Netflix series Cobra Kai
• Robby Keene...
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It was morning and the sky was still dim with a soft gray light filtering through the blinds.
Odette sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with a heavy sigh. She glanced out the window, noticing the faint light filtering through the slats of the blinds, indicating the beginning of a new day.
She slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor against her bare feet grounding her as she stretched. After a brief moment of hesitation, she got up and began her morning routine. She put on a white button up shirt, rolled up the sleeves and paired it with jean shorts and flip-flops.
Quickly tying her hair up, she left a few strands to frame her face and grabbed a jumper she had left crumpled in the corner of her room. With everything in place, she stepped out of her bedroom.
She hurried downstairs, greeted by the familiar aroma of breakfast wafting through the air and made her way into the living room. Oliver was already lounging on the couch, leisurely enjoying a bowl of cereal while watching reruns of F.R.I.E.N.D.S.
"What time did you get back?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the TV screen.
"About ten." She replied as she settled into the armchair across from him. She sighed deeply, still feeling the weight of the previous night. "There was an accident last night."
Oliver paused the show and finally gave her his full attention. "What happened?"
Odette exhaled, her gaze distant as she recounted the events. "Well, Miguel and his friends were taking a bathroom break in the boys' locker room, but they ran into Kyler and his goons. Demetri and Eli bolted, leaving Miguel to face them alone. When I went in, Miguel was beaten up, and everyone else had already left."
Oliver's expression showed concern. "Is he okay?"
"Yeah." She nodded, but the memory still made her stomach churn. "After I found him, a middle-aged man came into the locker room. He took Miguel home."
Oliver raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "A middle-aged man? Do you know him?"
Odette's mind drifted back to the moment she had seen him.
The man's eyes flickered over Miguel's broken form, but there was no immediate rush of urgency in his actions. Instead, he stood frozen for a moment, his expression shifting between indecision and disbelief.
Finally, he snapped out of his daze and hurried to Miguel's side, his hands quickly grabbing onto the boys hand.
"I'll take him." He said, his voice sharp but still laced with hesitation, like he wasn't entirely sure who to call or how to handle this situation.
Odette looked up at him, still trying to process the chaotic, terrifying scene she had just witnessed.
"I—" She swallowed hard. "Who are you? What's going on? You're not... you're not a teacher, are you?
