do you really think you're perfect ? | blade [hsr]

...even when you cry?

The next day was exponentially better. Or, at least you thought it'd be. 

You woke up to a text from Kafka, something about a study group she was hosting. You scoffed to yourself; really, a study group? You were much better off alone.

But, you missed Kafka. You missed most of her friends. And maybe it was a chance to get out more. Because you promised yourself you'd change after Jing Yuan left. You promised. And you weren't one to break your promises. 

So you texted back, Of course I'll go!, with about sixteen times the enthusiasm than you actually had. You were split, half wanting to go, and half not.

Your mind flashed back to Blade, and your day was almost ruined. That was a situation for another day. You pushed him to the back of your mind, and got changed, decent enough to go out to a local cafe for a couple hours. Not much.

You hadn't bothered to ask Kafka who was going, and even though you didn't want Blade there, if he was invited, you couldn't do anything about it. Kafka planned this, and she got to bring who she wanted. That was the difference between today, and the night at the club. 

You grabbed a tote bag from your desk, putting essentials (computer, notes, pencil bag, etc.) into it, setting your water bottle to the side. Your makeup was practically little to none, having absolutely no motivation to do anything extravagant, (though, not like you ever did). 

Studying was a big thing to you. Ever since middle school, you had your routine: Get home from school, study until dinner. Every day, the same thing, over and over, even now up until college, although it was slightly more enjoyable, since you didn't have your parents breathing down your neck about it. 

You used to hate it, but now, it was almost stress relieving. Except around finals season. But it was far, far from finals season, and you were ready to take this as an opportunity to relax.

Sadly, the world did not want you to relax.

When you arrived at Cafe Mizu, you had almost, almost left immediately. Because Kafka's little study group wasn't exactly a group. In fact, there was only one other person besides the two of you, and as guessed, it was Blade. 

Your body froze, and despite all the earlier thoughts of "this is Kafka's decision", you wanted to cry all over again. Seeing Blade did nothing to help you with what happened yesterday. Blade's eyes met yours and you felt as though he'd stabbed through you, piercing through your heart with a dagger of hatred.

"Y/N!" Kafka chuckled nervously, looking between you and Blade, waving you over. "I'm glad you could make it. You didn't answer any of my texts last night." You sat down across from Blade, next to Kafka, your gaze not leaving him. 

"Rough night." I said firmly, aiming each word at him. "Wasn't feeling too good." Blade merely met your stare, his gaze cold and almost mocking in a way. It made you sick. Kafka - unaware of the silent tension occurring - only frowned.

"Aw, I'm sorry. You know, you really didn't have to come." She explained. You stopped her, placing your hand on her wrist.

"I'm here, so there's nothing you can do." You chuckled, taking out your notebooks, along with a pen and white out. "Have you guys ordered yet?" You asked them both, though it was more directly aimed at Kafka. Your friend nodded, then looked at Blade.

"Blade hasn't yet. You two could maybe... go together?" Yeah, that was definitely a stretch. You smiled politely, trying to stay cool, then replied.

"I'll go first. We can mutually agree that's for the best." To your surprise, Blade didn't argue. He nodded, eyes drifting down to his own assignment. Kafka shrugged, then went back to writing, the sound of her pen moving across the paper amongst the quiet ambiance of the cafe.