Endless solo of solitude | Lookism various x reader

The tale of Shiruyeh and Shirin.

The winter-full days turn warmer, and easily, the weeks pass by without a second to spare.

Your hometown remains the same as ever. The cool air that'd always brush against your strands of hair begin to feel more and more natural. School never leaves the back of your mind, plaguing your every thought in worry of the future, but when the season changes, it's hard to have the energy for getting out of bed. Let alone waking up early in the morning, part of you doesn't want to bother going. But if you don't go, if you don't wake up, if you don't attend school, who else is going to protect Duke? Who else is going to care for your friend? Though he argues you don't need to worry, you swear by your name to never let harm come by him again. If it harms Duke, then by association, it's an insult to you too.

You're his friend, and he's yours just as much.

Duke says you're his only friend in the world, and that no one else bothers to treat him with kindness. He always grins sadly when telling you. You look at him, your eyes sad, not in pity, and ask if he'll ever stand up for himself, but he brushes you off and laughs in response. Duke likes to avoid giving answers, you come to terms with. And he prefers to keep it that way. So you'll let it slide for now.

You walk home with him everyday. Most times, you end up stopping by his grandma's food stall. She makes sure to sneak in extra food, and when you go to pay, she smiles and shakes her head. You end up with plenty of food to take home and leftover allowance. Other times, you manage to convince her she can use the money to buy a gift for Duke. Though you hardly actually succeed, Duke, more often than not, cracks up at the clashing expressions of you and his grandmother. The tunes of melody surround the store in lulling hushes of symphony, and it takes you by storm when you see the soft gleam in his grandma's eyes, so you take note to try and make him smile in every instance you can. Your attempts are fruitless, your heart aching when you catch the mean remarks thrown at him, but you don't stop.

Duke is sick from school a lot more nowadays. You don't see him much, apart from the times you stop by his home to check how he's doing. The teachers give you tonnes of homework to pass him. It weighs on your brain, but you try your best to finish it on his behalf. You're not the smartest, but you're able to complete it at the very least. Every time you see him, his face turns a shade paler. He flinches all the time, and he turns his head to the other side in shame. You want to ask him what's wrong; you thought you'd gotten over the fact it wasn't his fault. But you care too much to try, because the answer is something that'll hurt you, you're sure.

Your head tilts downwards, facing the sheet of paper on your desk. There's an identical one to the side, and you just can't understand where you've gone wrong with the working out. The pen in your hand snaps under the pressure you'd been applying, and the brief sound causes you to flinch. Blood coats your palm in a thin coat.

You hear footsteps and look up to see a stature towering over you.

"[Name], meet me after school," the boy who often picks on you and Duke in class says to you. You scowl at him. It's one that holds nothing but pure disgust. He doesn't take the hint. Your lips are pursed. His eyes dart down to them. "I have something to tell you."

"No," you reply simply, bowing your head and returning your gaze to the paper.

"Haha, he's confessing to her!" you hear another boy call out loudly.

Cheers from your classmates ring throughout the room. The sound is nothing new, but your hands go to shade your ears. You throw them a disapproving glare, not that they care.

"Meet me in the usual alley," he calls out as you grit your teeth. He gives one last glance, before heading to his seat. Pulling the char to sit, his legs slouch over one another. The group of boys that follow him like he's their saviour go over to slap his shoulder, whispering to each other. As if you can't hear them.