𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫; 𝗔. 𝗛𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗠𝗜 𝘅 𝗞. 𝗠𝗕𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘́[☁️]

[𝟎𝟏] 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Hello hello!! Adonis here, and I'm back with yet another silly story LMAO except this time it's not rlly satire? But uh yeah I'm just trying something out, tell me what you think!! I might update this in case u do like it!! Btw it's a sort of high school AU lmao

Comments, constructive criticism and votes are appreciated<3

Enjoy!

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He watched as the moving truck drove away for the last time. His hands were still gripping onto the carton box he carried, carefully bringing it inside of the newly bought home. His parents were busy pushing some boxes out of the way, and Achraf went to place the one previously in his hands next to all the other ones.

"Mom, do you need any help with that?" Achraf asked, seeing his mom struggle with a particularly heavy box. He didn't wait for an answer to start helping with pushing the box aside, earning a relieved 'thank you' from his mother.

"The boxes with your belongings were brought upstairs by your father. Go check your room out, Arra," his mother suggested, her signature smile tracing her lips. Achraf nodded, before placing a kiss on her cheek and shuffling upstairs.

His eyes widened at the sight; his room was massive compared to the one in his old house. His breath hitched as he walked around, already imagining what he'd place and where.

Achraf quietly set everything up for the time being, hoping his parents would still remember their promise of redoing the walls in his new room. But the current result was perfect for now.

The Moroccan plopped down on his bed, heaving a sigh of tiredness. The moment of peace was short lived, because an irritating series of knocks on his door that he knew all too well had to ruin everything.

"Arra!" His brother's muffled voice echoed on the other side of the door. Achraf left his undeniably comfortable mattress, slumping his way towards the door to open it, revealing his dork of a brother.

"What do you want?"

"I was forced to summon you to come with me to the grocery store, to mom's demand," his brother dramatically explained, which only earned a scoff from Achraf. The latter accepted, not like he had much of a choice, and watched his brother leave and go out of the way before following him downstairs.

Putting on his shoes and grabbing the needed money, he joins his brother and his sister outside as they start walking towards where they were told the grocery store would be. The sun was starting to set, shining its orange rays upon the city, and mixing its orange light with the blue sky, forming shades of pink and purple in between.

They barely arrived and an argument had already taken place in the first aisle they stepped in.

"Dude that's literally the one she told us to buy, not whatever you've got in your hands!"

"What are you on about? She told us to buy this!"

"Oh my God, you fucking buffoons, this is the one she told us to buy." Achraf was not the type to try and break up an argument, either he would start one or jump to the defense of one party. But now, it was for the sake of his appearance and that of his siblings.

Because three tan and obviously North African looking teens arguing loudly in Spanish (with some Tamazight thrown in here and there) in the middle of a grocery store in a predominantly white area of Paris, is not the best way to show off one's first impression. Especially if the area was reputed for not being the most open minded when it came to foreigners.