A/N: he is the CUTEST
"...Ellie," I hear Jungkook's soft voice, "Ellie, wake up."
It's such a pleasant tone that I don't move a muscle. His voice is dreamlike and it keeps me from opening my eyes.
"Eliana," he uses my unshortened name in that same gentle voice.
I force myself to open my eyes and look over to him, now feeling fully rested unlike this morning.
"Let's go inside, it's almost 8:00." He continues the sweet inflection and I unbuckle my seatbelt.
"Okay." I yawn and open the car door but my amiable mood is immediately tarnished by a gust of icy wind. I scowl at nothing to express my irritation to mother nature before turning to look at the museum's front.
It's a huge building. A flight of stairs stretches from one side of the wide entrance to the other, tall columns line the landing of the stairs, and a thick roof overhangs the entrance.
It's beautiful, but I can't spare another glance at it before Jungkook is rushing us both into the building.
We sprint up the stone steps, and I nearly fall at the top but I catch myself on the railing. We go in and see our class along with Mr. Davis and Ms. Lilith, the other history professor.
"Why are you just now arriving?" Jessie comes over and I don't think she saw Jungkook come in with me, so she thinks I drove here by myself. "Also why do you look like you were just punched in the face?"
"I didn't set my alarm correctly." I tell her, "So I got up at 6:45 and had to rush to get ready."
"Go to the bathroom and fix yourself," she laughs and points down a big hallway, "It's where that sign is."
I squint at the bathroom sign and nod, "I'll be back in a few minutes, thanks."
I walk down to the entrance and go in, the echo of my shoes on the tile fills the large lemon-scented bathroom and I go to one of the sinks and look at myself in the mirror.
My hair is a hodgepodge of light brown pulled back into a wind-hit ponytail. It looks like it hasn't been brushed in days and I take out the hair tie, yanking at least five strands out of my scalp.
I hiss air through my teeth as I get it out and my long messy hair falls against my shoulders and down my back. I sigh before brushing it out with my fingers as best I can and then putting it back up into a bun.
Next is my face; I have mascara smudged onto my nose and it really does look like I was punched in the face. I get some paper towel and wet it before attempting to gently scrub it off of my nose.
It doesn't work, so I cross my fingers that I won't get soap into my eyes when I put the paper towel under the soap dispenser. I get just a little bit of soap on it and gently wash my face.
Everything is going fine until the door opens and I jump, which instantly puts the soap from the paper towel into my eye.
"Aw, fuck!" I close my eye quickly and hold it as the stinging gets worse.
"Uhh," I hear a man's voice and I quickly shoot a glance with my one clear eye over to the entrance. "This is the mens' room, are you okay?"
"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry!" I get another paper towel and quickly make my way out, my cheeks turn bright red out of embarrassment and I pass him, going straight across the hall to the womens' room.
My eyes start to water from the pain and I try to cry the soap out if I can, which in turn ruins any microscopic bit of hope I had for this mascara.
After a few seconds, my mascara is running and I begin to splash warm water on my face to clean it all off.
YOU ARE READING
Bittersweet » j.jk ✓
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