Trollhunters - first meetings - (various x reader)

Chapter 8

((I apologize beforehand. I made up the trollish language (it's called Trollspeak. Very creative) that is spoken since there's only an official alphabet and not anything about pronunciation, grammer, spelling, etc...
I tried my best ^^;; ))

-----
-----

The smell of old leather hung in the air, reminding you of an old lady's home. A bookcase full of boring sounding titles and some dusty pictures of what appeared to be a family stood by one wall. A small piano by the other.
You had never heard it being played so you wondered if it even worked.

Glancing back to the middle aged man who sat across from you behind a wide desk, you gave a small sigh.

This was no old lady's home, this was Arcadia Oaks High's principal office.

After Strickler had escorted Steve to this office along with you, the plain looking man before you had begun scolding the blond oaf rather harshly, talking about suspension and -even worse- expulsion.

At first, you kind of enjoyed seeing him squirm so pathetically but it grew sad to watch soon.
He hadn't really done any harm to your face since that already had happened the night before so all this talk about violence was a bit unnecessary in your opinion.

And by now it was hard to sit there and see the once so proud boy be at the verge of breaking into a crying fit.

The tall teacher behind you didn't really seem to help Steve either with his endless pacing and yet you were still unsure if you should speak up. The principal looked pretty agitated right now and if you were to interrupt, he'd most likely direct that anger at you and that was the last thing you needed.

Things had been going pretty peaceful with your father lately. Who knew how he'd react when he got a letter, saying his daughter got into a fight and then resisted against not just a teacher but the principal himself.

Yeah, no thanks.

Then again, Steve was being accused of something he didn't do, even if he believed he did it himself. Although that was just because he was an idiot, let's be real.

You threw a look over your shoulder, noticing that Strickler had stopped pacing by now and was thoughtfully watching Steve, occasionally frowning at something being said.
For a short moment, he looked over to you, catching your glance with a look that nearly made you jump.

He didn't look like a teacher that believed to be justly scolding a bad kid but rather like a teacher that was forced to watch a good kid be wrongly punished.

That's it.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"I tripped and fell into a wall yesterday."

The principal had been on an especially heated part of his monologue when you suddenly interrupted, causing all three pairs of eyes to snap to you as it grew quiet in the stuffy office.

You used this silence, albeit it being nerve-wracking, to further explain your bruises.

"My face hit the bricks head-on so I covered it with make-up this morning," to prove your point, you carefully smudged over your face, uncovering more of the dark spots and hearing the beefy teen next to you gasp in overdramatic horror, "Steve only messed up the make-up. The bruises aren't his fault. That's it."

It took a while for anyone else to say anything and you were already beginning to question your sanity for barging into a conversation like that when a calming hand landed gently on your shoulder.

"I do not believe Palchuk meant ill either. I saw him trip just before I left the classroom. It looked like an accident," came Strickler's voice, backing you up further.