𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦

fifteen

Temperance was slowly dying on her bed, and this time it's not an exaggeration.

She'd gotten to school and then promptly fainted in PE after one of her classmates had said she was as pale as a loose leaf paper, (which wasn't good because this person's loose leaf papers were whiter than snow.)

The person was famous specifically because of that.

High school, am I right? she thought.

Well, to be fair, she knew someone known by the whole school for having broccoli hair, so maybe being famous for loose-leaf papers aren't that bad.

The comment came after a bout of coughing, and the fainting caused her to get a small cut that won't stop bleeding on her forehead. Even Band-Aids won't help it. She truly was cursed.

Gluttony was absent, so certain people had started assuming she faked the fainting to go see him. As if. They were reaching. If she had wanted to get out of school, she had other ways that didn't include injuring herself.

And even though Temperance had insisted that she wasn't injured that badly, not wanting to miss an exam, the teacher had called for help anyway.

That had got her sent to the nurse's office where had they called Chastity to take her home, and they gave her the slip of permission—today's slip was pink. The colors varied every day because students had been stealing a whole stack of them to fake sick and go home.

She had to wait for 45 minutes for Chastity to come pick her up, and even then, she had been unceremoniously dumped at the gate of the virtues' joint house. Apparently Chastity had been in the middle of a three-hour exam.

At least I'll get more time to study, Temperance had thought groggily, walking into the house.

She had been immediately greeted by Diligence, who was supposed to be in classes.

"The professor was absent," he'd said at Temperance's questioning look. "Why are you home? You didn't skip school, right?"

"Never," she had said simply. "I got sent home because I fainted."

Diligence had raised an eyebrow. "Why? Have you eaten today?"

"I have," Temperance had said, "I'm not you, I don't need my rival to save the day by dropping off a box of food in front of my unconscious face."

"Ouch," he'd replied indignantly, "that only happened a few times."

Temperance had glanced to the calendar on the wall, marked with a red pen. She had felt light-headed again, the flowers bubbling up, but she wasn't going to miss this opportunity to deliver a comeback.

"Twenty-seven times in twenty-five days," she'd muttered before fainting yet again.