𝘔𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘛𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴: Soul Bound - DISCONTINUED

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎

-Dealla Seinfeld-

➳ 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡

Thursday, 11 at night.

Gazing at the unfinished sketch, Dealla sighed in annoyance. She gritted her teeth, rubbing her temples with her index and middle finger in hopes of easing the incoming migraine.

Art block.

The teen furiously crumpled the paper with the sketch and threw it over her shoulder. Dealla grunted, hunching her back as she stared at the blank page of her sketch book. Her slowly gaze moved to her right arm, where a big, nasty bruise that was slowly healing could be seen. Dealla's lips twitched down, gently running a finger over it. She received it last week and her parents were yet to know about it.

Not that they care anyway.

Dealla raised her brows, shaking her head. They care. They just aren't here often.

More like ever.

"OKAY!" The teen stood abruptly, banging her hands on her desk, hard, making her wince at the impact. "That's gonna go red." she muttered, caressing her hands, "Sorry 'bout that--"

She raised a brow, scoffing, clapping her hands hard, almost regretting her choices. Almost. "Why the blummin' heck am I apologizing?" she asked herself before raising her voice, glaring at nothing in particular, "You gave me bruises!"

Not long after, she felt a tiny pinch on her arm, making her yelp and put a hand over the skin, "What the heck was that for?!" she hissed, rubbing her arm.

It was then she felt a wave of embarrassment when she realized she was talking to herself in her bedroom. Dealla clicked her tongue, "I'm alone so who would judge me." she mumbled before heading to her four-poster bed.

Once she reached the comfort of the mattress, Dealla tucked herself in, hugging the comforter as she reached for the button on her bedside table, turning off the lights of her room.

The light of the moon mixed with the glimmering lights of the Eiffel Tower immediately bled through the French doors of her balcony and the open curtains of her window, easing her brain as her eyes took in the calming and beautiful view. Twenty minutes passed as she stared at the sight, and she finally felt the tiredness go in to her system. She rolled to her right, and she finally entered dreamland with a last thought in her mind.

Hopefully they wont take damage tomorrow.

➳ 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡

Friday, 8:15 AM.

After tying her midnight-brown hair in a low ponytail, Dealla styled her bangs before smoothing her plaid skirt. She stepped back to get a view of her figure in the closet mirror, nodding to herself. She went toward the section where she kept her small collection of cosmetics, picking up the random water-proof foundation she saw and opened it, dropping an ample amount on her bruised arm and spread the foundation to fully cover the bruise.

Wiping her fingers on a nearby towel, Dealla walked out of her closet, picking up her jewelry box and bookbag placed on her desk and slung it over her shoulder, opening the door of her room and exited, a blob of red disappearing into her bag.

Fixing the collar of her shirt as she walked in the dining room of the Seinfeld Manor, Dealla failed to notice two figures already seated on the table, and only then did she acknowledge them when they called for her.

The teen looked up, eyes widening a fraction, "Mom? Dad?" she said before straightening her posture, swiping her bangs away from her face.

The woman of the two smiled, "Good morning, Alessandra," she said, ushering the teen to sit in front of her, beside her husband that was sitting at the head of the table.

Dealla's lip twitched at the name, but nonetheless gave a tight smile as she strutted toward the seat beside the head of the house. She thought by know she would get used to it. Heck, they've been using that name since she was in diapers! The girl sat, masking her surprise with a face of indifference, "I didn't know you both would be here."

Her father hummed, "An old friend has asked us to judge with him in an upcoming competition at your school."

Competition? thought Dealla as she ate her toast, not a single crumb falling from her utensils. She decided to voice her thoughts, this time directing her question to her mother, "What competition?"

"Why the derby hat design competition, of course." said her mother, Rosetta, "Your school hasn't announced it?"

"Not that I know of."

"Peu importe." said Daniel as he folded his hands, "Your mother and I told him that you'll be the one to make the final decision, for you will be the one to design his son's suit to match his headpiece."

Dealla's jaw clenched and her left hand balled into a fist under the table. She took a subtle deep breath, letting it out through her nose.

"I make paintings and draw portraits, Father, not clothes."

Daniel's black eyes stared at Dealla's similar black ones and the latter sucked in a sharp breath.

"The decision is final, child."

Dealla stood from her seat abruptly, accidentally knocking a glass of water, and luckily, it didn't break. The teen muttered an apology before taking her bag and bidding goodbye to her parents. 

Rosetta frowned as she gazed at her daughter's fading figure before turning to glare at her husband. The man held up a hand and a maid cleaned the glass of water, scurrying away once she was done. Daniel acknowledged his wife with a simple stare.

This still sucks. Chapter 3 will be published overmorrow ! Stay slayin [💕]~(￣▽￣)~*

First published: March 30, 2023 (unpublished)

Re-Published: September 1, 2024