Mixte-1963(2)

8: bureau principal

MICHELLE POV

<<Pardon?>> I say entering with him in the principal office. I hope this time my uncle, the head teacher, will help me.
<<I usually get partly deaf when it comes to a stupid man's unwanted opinion>> I tell him as soon as he dares speaking to me.

<<What's that fragrance meddler? Wildflower? Vanilla? Smell like daddy issues to me>>

<<I'm speaking with a child>> I tell myself.

<<Take a seat please>> my uncle enters his office as soon as we sit.
He doesn't even take a look at our faces, he just looks at some paper shift that's on his desk.

<<Why are you here? It hasn't even been a week since the school started>> the way he grabs quickly a candy and starts eating it is fascinating.

<<I...apologize, I responded to->>

<<She was just defending herself>> but that's the time HE defend ME.

<<Oh...I have already seen this scene>> yeah when me and Alain got sent here...

<<I've learned from my past mistakes, I don't regret anything, but I've learned from what I did, I learned that my action have consequences>>

<<I'm not speaking about you running with a boy, I'm talking about you...not being able to learn. You know what your problem is?
You're smart, too smart. You overthink because you mind moves at a million miles a minute. You're sad because you're not fooled by the world like anyone else, that's why you run away. You don't get along with most people, that's maybe the reason you gossiped about the fact that my wife could've been possibly...a lesbian, thought that's wrong, so wrong, you don't get along with them because they don't see the things the way you do. You think you're dumb, because you're smart enough to know, you don't know everything.
You're problem is, you're too smart, and that's not a problem at all, let me remind you: when it was hard, and you were overwhelmed and felt afraid, and walked alone, and felt invisible, and didn't have the answers, and couldn't see the way, and wanted to give up, you kept going.>> I feel...ashamed by the fact that he knows me better than my parents do.

<<You know what's the meaning of life?>> I shake my head <<Just to be alive. It's just so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves. This is the real secret of life: to be completely engaged with what you are doing in the here and now>>

<<And what if I love freedom? Does that count?>> I ask

<<If you really loved freedom you would have stayed were you were with Laubrac>>his voice gives to me this annoyed sentence. And all the facing me.

I stood face to face with him, and couldn't help but be struck by the sinister allure he possesses. His eye, dark and deep like the abyss, seemes to draw in light and reflect back only shadows. There is a certain elegance in the way he moves, a fluidity that hints at something both predatory and graceful. His hair, a cascade of midnight black, framed a face that was almost too perfect, as if chiseled by some dark artisan. The stark contrast between his pale skin and the inky void of his features makes him seem otherworldly, almost venomous. It was a beauty that fascinates and repelles in equal measure—a "black beauty," like a sleek viper coiled to strike. The danger he exudes is palpable, a reminder that beneath the surface of that captivating exterior lurked something deadly and unforgiving.

The tension between us is thick enough to cut with a knife. Joseph, leans against the desk, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips. His smug expression only fuels my anger.