Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄
𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄, the weight of the recent events sitting heavy on my shoulders. The clash with Hera Crane had been more than a mere disagreement, it had erupted into a full-blown confrontation, the aftermath etched in the redness of my bruised knuckles and a broken nose.
Unsurprisingly, there was no hint of remorse tugging at my conscience. In fact, there was a smug satisfaction that lingered inside me as I relished the profound pleasure I had hearing the resounding impact of my fist meeting Hera Crane's cocky smirk. I would even affirm with unyielding conviction to anyone who asked that it was a blow well justified by Hera's provocations.
The polished doorknob felt cold against my palm as I pushed open the heavy door to the dean's office. The room, adorned with oak-panelled walls and an air of austere authority, seemed to close in around me. I stepped into the lion's den, my attitude a distinct contrast to the atmosphere that awaited me.
The dean, a woman whose face got frozen behind the glass of time, sat behind a polished desk cluttered with paperwork. She gave me the same imitating smile that was constantly rooted on her lips as I entered. Her eyes, holding a lifeless warmth, followed my path as I made my self confortable on one of her neon colored chair.
My eyes met her icy gaze as I attempted to mask the concealing storm of emotions beneath what I hoped to be calm exterior.
"Ophelia Snow." She began, her piercing voice laced with the imitation of what was supposed to be pleasant tone. "Your record has been... less than stellar. Fights, disruptions, a trail of disciplinary issues that we have chosen to overlook when your name came into the never-ending pile of candidates for our prestigious academy. We only generously welcomed you due to your family's esteemed status in the Capitol."
I remained silent, my gaze steady, as I endured a speech my ears knew all too well. My family's reputation might have secured me a place in their stupid prestigious institute, but it also casted a spotlight over my every action.
Each breath that my mouth exhaled was punctiliously examined with a small magnifying glass lending great interest in not missing any misstep that I would dare commit.
"However." the dean continued, "This recent incident with Hera Crane cannot be ignored. A physical altercation of such magnitude demands a response. We've decided to dismiss you from classes for the week as a form of punishment."
I nodded, acknowledging the consequence and putting every effort into painting a picture of a maintained compose demeanor as I repressed any form of satisfaction that dared to reveal on my face.
