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❝ Why was it so annoyingly blue? ❞
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YOONA HAS A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION.
What sort of supernatural doing was responsible for how fast or slow time proceeds? At home, she'd sit down and decide to either sketch, let her hand dance and pirouette against blank surfaces, or perhaps succumb to the always welcoming arms of imagination and read a good old book. However, what would feel like a pleasant fifteen minutes of unalloyed ecstasy would somehow be three, whole, legitimate hours. School, on the other hand, was a completely divergent ball game altogether. It was as if the premises had some sort of force field surrounding it that blocked out that— that thing, and therefore the whole block of stone and bricks is thus (unfortunately) unaffected.
Here she was, five blithering minutes into her godforsaken english class, and yet she feels like she's trapped within a time warp, going on for three hours.
Drowning in the monotonous and tedious voice of her english teacher, she unconciously writes little words in different handwritings and various styles by the corner of her notebook page, accompanied by a few random flowers or cartoons. Her senses fluctuate wildly from paying attention and grasping little points here and there from the dreadfully boring english lesson, to completely zoning out and focusing on the rivers and swirls of gray that the lead of her pencil tattoos onto her paper.
In the background, the sounds of how a classroom would sound like during a lesson was present. There were the sharp, echoing thuds of the teacher's whiteboard marker against the board as she furiously writes down criterias to be fulfilled and key points she wanted to find in the students' works, along with the occasional sound of a notebook or textbook page being flipped, the sheet curling as a hand would flip them; a crisp sound slicing through the silence.
After minutes and minutes (or what seemed more like hours) of begrudgingly taking in information Yoona really had no idea how aforementioned would help her with life, the shrill sound of the school bell resonates through the hallways and seeps into the class, immediately pulling a long string of exasperated groans and ("finally")'s from the disheveled and visibly exhausted students' mouths.
The teacher's voice as she frustratedly shouts out homework questions is completely drowned due to the instantaneous outburst of chattering and talking in the air, the nerve grinding screeches of chairs as they scrape against the floor due to students rushing to leave, the loud thudding of rushing feet finished off with the furious zipping of pencil pouches and backpacks.
Yoona would've felt a little empathetic and maybe had a tad bit of sympathy for her, but this same woman was the reason she'd been undergoing torture for forty five minutes, so.
