five

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Temperance would rather go back to maths.

She hated physics with every fiber of her being. Gluttony is amazing at it, obviously, but she's not very good at it. When she's focused, she's great at almost any subject, but her mind is scattered. And also the science teacher is their homeroom teacher. Yay. What an amazing day, Temperance thought sarcastically. Just for today, she allowed herself to be cynical, because her current future isn't looking so bright.

"Pay attention to the teacher!" her seat-mate whispered. Again. Temperance had been daydreaming, but she figured she wouldn't be able to pay attention anyway.

"I'm trying to!" she whispered back.

The teacher whips around to their table. Their conversation must've been heard. Internally, Temperance cursed at herself. "You," the teacher (who is really strict) said, pointing at Temperance, "switch places to... there."

"There" was Rhea's seat. It was intentional, because the teacher knew that the two spirits had a tense relationship with each other and won't even talk with the other unless it's really needed. At this, Gluttony froze, Temperance winced, Rhea looked like she was trying to swallow a raw and slimy slug, and Temperance's seat-mate looked horrified.

The rest of the class cheered.

When the teacher finally managed to calm the class down, Temperance had switched seats with Rhea already. She sat on the furthest edge of the chair possible, away from Gluttony without falling, and Gluttony did the same with the other side. The teacher looked satisfied and resumed teaching. Eventually, they all got worksheets, and Temperance (luckily) now had a minor understanding on what she was taught and what to do.

Tensely, she started doing her worksheet. Gluttony had finished faster than her. Temperance tried not to care and focused on the question she had been stuck on for some time.

"Do you want my help?" a voice asked. Discussions with your seat-mate are allowed, and the rest of the class is buzzing, but Temperance and Gluttony worked alone in silence.

"No." Temperance replied brusquely. "Thank you." she added after a few seconds, as if as just an afterthought.

"Okay," came the reply, and there was uncomfortable and tense silence between the two.

Suddenly Gluttony knocked over Rhea's water bottle and it fell on Temperance's worksheet. She snatched the water bottle and set it upright to prevent any more damage. "Hey!" she demanded. "What was that for?"

"I'm sorry!" Gluttony apologized, hands in the air. "I didn't mean to knock it over! I'll get something to clean this up!" he said, standing up.

The class hadn't noticed them yet.

And then, the person in front of Temperance's side of the table pushed his chair backwards, the desk moved backwards as a result, and the water spilled onto her lap.

The class was deadly silent now.

"Are you serious?" Temperance yelled, abruptly standing up, shaking her skirt to get most of the water off. The skirt was a plaid with the tones of white and light grey, and Temperance thought that this was the biggest design flaw in the history of big design flaws.

She was frantically fanning her skirt from all edges while Gluttony was frantically wiping the table dry with tissues and Rhea had ran back to frantically save her things from being wet.

The table couldn't be fully dry as Gluttony used up all his tissues to clean Temperance's stuff and seat. Rhea's books were all safe, but Temperance was stuck holding out her skirt so that it doesn't stick to her legs. Rhea's water bottle was huge, and therefore her skirt was soaked. So was her socks and shoes. Their teacher was busy telling the other students to calm down, because some of the boys was ogling Temperance and the girls... weren't pleased.

Gluttony noticed this and took off his hoodie. "Tie this around your waist," he said, giving the clothing to her. "I'll—I'll get you a new skirt... or something."

This is the first time he took off his jacket in school. For some reason, he did it for her. Didn't he hate her?

Other girls were now staring at him and not Temperance's wet skirt.

Why does she feel uneasy?

But, why does she care?

"Yeah, and your hoodie would get wet, too," Temperance deadpanned.

"I'd rather my hoodie get wet than you having to lift your skirt so it's not see-through," Gluttony retorted, surprisingly quick considering his apologetic tone of voice just a few seconds ago.

"Fine," Temperance said, albeit reluctantly. She tied the (surprisingly soft) hoodie around her waist quickly so that when her skirt sticks to her, it would be fully covered. "I've got spare clothes, you don't need to buy me a new skirt," she added.

"Okay," Gluttony said, concern clear in his voice. He sat back down on his dry seat as Temperance left to change into dry clothes and the teacher resumed supervising the worksheet discussion.

Temperance returned with pants that are a part of the gym uniform instead of a skirt—Gluttony assumed she didn't bring a spare skirt. She seemed very uncomfortable with the weird combination of the uniform top and the pants. She rushed in, sat at her seat, and then untied the hoodie from around her waist.

"So-sorry, its kind of damp now," she said.

"No, it's okay," Gluttony reassured her. "And, um, not that I'm a creep or anything, I swear, but you seem kind of uncomfortable with your uniform combo? Do you want to wear my jacket?"

Temperance frowned. "...How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Um, well," Gluttony started, "you told me about it a few months ago..."

"Okay, yeah, you're right." Temperance relented.

Gluttony held out the hoodie towards her. "So, do you want to wear this?" he offered.

"...Maybe. Yes. Okay. Sure." She took it and put it on quickly. "Thanks," she muttered gratefully.

"My, uh, pleasure," Gluttony replied, handing a dry worksheet to her. "I noticed you've done numbers one to four, so I did all of them... and number five, too. I hope you don't mind my handwriting. Um, I tried to copy yours. And if you want to do everything yourself, I can, uh, erase my answers."

Temperance took the paper and stared at it. The graphite etched to the paper looked exactly like her handwriting—Gluttony had even managed to copy the way she wrote her As—the weird way. "You could make a living from forging signatures," she blurted out.

He laughed. "Trust me, I tried."

The tension between the two melted as Temperance joined Gluttony in his laughter.

And the teacher looked displeased.

𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant