WTH [GonKillu] and [LeoPika]

Thursday rain

3rd person, following Kurapika.

 Kurapika sighs, looking out his window. Today's sky looks gloomy. He walksto the other side of his bedroom - where his drawers and a desk are located, opens one, and sorts through his kajillion beauty products. Ah, there it is: Vaseline. His precious tube of Vaseline. On cold, gray days like this, there's nothing more stupid than NOT wearing Vaseline. Squeezing the paste on his finger, Kurapika reaches for his phone on the desk and checks for notifications. Applying Vaseline to his lips, he read the text sent to him from last night.

Killer Kat
(Hullo.)
(Hey)
(I need help)
(Hello?)
(Kura istfg)
(Kura wake up you don't usually sleep this early.)
Seen 10:30 P.M

Feminist
(Kil what the hell)
(10:30 pm is early???)
(you cray cray or sumn?)

Killer Kat
(no..?)
(also half past ten IS early)

Feminist
(🙄)
(anyway, you asked for help?)

Killer Kat
(too late)

Feminist
(what was it anyway??)

Killer Kat
(...)
(i...)
(ihadneonover for the project)

Feminist
(wtf)
(clarify)

Killer Kat
(figure it out ys)

Feminist
(..)
(OHHHHHHH)
(what happened then?)

Killer Kat
(i panicked, b/c she went over when i least expected it, and i didn't look nice, nuh uh, and also i can't cook for sht, and als my room is messy as hell, like, how tf am i going to deal with the embarrassment? i ain't gettin humiliated at school, i think tf not.)
('specially not by HER)
(so i texted for self-help)
(and you didn't show up😤)

Feminist
(right, sorry 😐)
(i hope you've gotten over it)

Killer Kat
(guess what NOPE i didn't)

Feminist
(condolence)

 Kurapika giggles as he sets his phone down. Killua Zoldyck sure is one messed up individual. He and Kurapika met during the holidays when Kurapika was one of the school's summer camp student staff AND his babysitter. He smiles at the memory and glances at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It reads 07:05 a.m. Kurapika sighs. He's feeling extremely harmonious right now. He woke up early this morning, at quarter past six, to be exact, brushed his teeth, showered, did yoga, managed to wash his face mask off without peeling his skin with it, had a coffee and toast, washed his mouth with Listerine, brushed his hair, poke an earring through his earlobe without causing himself severe pain, chose something to wear, wore it, all in order, and STILL have time to do his makeup without worrying that he'll be late.

 Kurapika uncaps his mascara and lets the brush hover a bit so that any excess lumps fall back into the tube. Then he proceeds to stroke it (the brush, not the tube) gently and slowly onto his lashes. No sticking the brush end in his eye today. Next, he reaches for his lip gloss. Slicking a couple of layers on his lips, he listens to the rain falling, splattering onto his window. ASMR. Kurapika pouts at his reflection in the mirror, satisfied with the result. He puts the tubes back in their drawer and picks up a bottle of fragrance. Its label reads "Coco Mademoiselle CHANEL PARIS". This is a present given to him by Killua. The silver-haired boy had explained to him that it is a Chypre perfume, and how it best matches Kurapika's personality - Sweet but surprisingly moody. 'Thanks a lot, Kil' Kurapika thought, a soft smile on his mouth. He sprayed the stuff on his wrists and the neck of his uniform shirt, something Melody had taught him about wearing perfume. He checks the time again. Seven thirteen.

  "Oh. No. It. Isn't."

 But it is. Kurapika is going to be late for his first period. Racing down the stairs, he grabs his bag and hurries to put on his shoes, tripping over his ankles.

  "MOM, I'm going to school on your bike!" He shouts. Mrs. Kurta calmly calls back: "Don't crash it like how you crashed Luke's."
  "I won't!"
Kurapika shudders at the memory. He remembers his dad yelling at him and his mom laughing, wheezing as if she might die.
___________________________________________________________________________

 Kurapika rides up the school gates, receives a glare from security, and parks his mom's bike at the students' parking lot. It was meant to be for bicycles, but whatever. He runs as fast as his legs can carry him, up to the security cabin, where he got his tardy slip (and another glare from the security guard). Next, climbs up the stairs to his class, skipping two steps at a time, and, being the clumsy but elegant person he is, almost trip and fall elegantly. Kurapika arrives to algebra five minutes late, just in time as the teacher started the lesson. She must've changed her mind though, because she decides to lecture Kurapika about arriving late and making the class wait for his appearence. Kurapika, drama mode on, nods and pouts, generally trying to look as guilty as possible (which he is doing very well) and walks to his seat with his head down (act).

 Kurapika hates algebra. He's hated it since he was introduced to it in 8th grade, still hates it till now, and will probably hate it till the day he dies. But the thing is, he's good at it. No matter how much he despise it, he is actually good at it. Evidence: Kurapika is sitting in algebra right now, spinning his pen, not paying attention, at least up until the point when the teacher was writing out example problems on the board and asking the studenst to solve them in their notebooks. Kurapika has done his in precisely six minutes, his spiral-spine NB covered in neat writing. Kurapika lost track of time. What he does know is that the teacher was explaining how to do problem five on the board and-

  "Mister Kurta!"
 Kurapika sits up, dropping his pen elegantly. "Yes?" he answers calmly. Ms. Algebra Teacher glares at him.
  "Answer to problem-"
  "Nine point five." He says imediately, not waiting for the teacher to finish her demand.
  "Eh?!"
  "Nine point five." He repeats. "It's problem seven, isn't it?"
  "Correct." Ms. Al replies, still recovering from the shock. But suddenly she smiles mischieviously. "Well, I wanted to call you to the board to solve problem eight too, actually."

 Kurapika sighs. He stands up and is about to pick up his notebook-

  "No notebook. Solve it all over again." Ms. Al said, smiling like a devil from heaven (b/c she's really pretty, get it?).

 Kurapika stares at her, unimpressed. Seriously, other teachers has pulled this on him before. This one should know better. He goes up to the board and solves for y in the equation (15)(2/3y + 10) = (15)(y/5 + 36/5) in less than thirty seconds.
Kurapika turns calmly to face the teacher.

  "Right, wrong, yes, no, make it snappy, please. I want to get back to my seat."

 Ms. Al gapes at him. "Cor - correct. That was very impressive. Thank you, Mr. Kurta, you can go back to your place now."
Kurapika returns to his seat, humming softly to himself. As he passes the third row, he hears someone whisper, "Amazing, Kurapika. Can't wait to see your hand work its magic on the board in physics."
  "Thanks, Chrollo, but no thanks. See you in geometry or not, depends on my mood."