"god, i'm tired." i yawn, teeth clenched as i suck breath through them.
the teacher is sat at her desk, impatiently closing her eyes with furrowed brows before opening them again and
retreating to her computer.
clasp the sheet in front of me, frustrated with my incapability of marking its completion. i'm basically rendered useless against the babble of complicated words etched onto the paper.
unsurprisingly enough, i eventually peer over to see a group of girls dressed in revealing lampard-cami-tops and outward pleated skirts, lovingly jeering over their shared infatuation with Kujo. to be honest, it's not to say he's borderline disgusting, or despicably ugly- he's just... not my type. or, i don't think he is, at least.
maybe that'll change. i don't know.
[immense time-skippery occurs.]
thankfully, it's now break- and i immediately rush out of my seat to exit through the door. the pit in my stomach finally lifts as the bells' ring courses through the veins of my ears.
quite unfortunately, though, during my haze to get out, the hideously massive shoes of Jotaro Kujo trip me up on my way, and i fall face-flat on the ground- nose slapping against the wooden floor and my eyeballs receding into the back of my head.
not only is it immensely embarrassing, but horribly painful. i can feel my heart rate increase and my blood pressure rise out of sheer frustration.
i can feel multiple sets of eyes linger on my body, shifting up and down my sized frame.
nobody laughs. nobody says anything. i guess that's a little comforting, in a way.
i can only hear Kujo sigh, quite clearly unimpressed. by this point, it's only been a few seconds- and i've now started to make my subtle rise from the seemingly concrete floor.
i kneel, feeling to my nose- and touch some cold liquid dripping from the heart of my nasal bridge.
"lord," i mutter, gently tearing my hand away from my nose. my pointer and middle fingers are now coated in blood.
"phenomenal." i scowl, not even bothering to peer back at the boy. feeling embarrassed is the last of my concerns.
it already seems as though my teacher is heavily wrapped up in the sharp essence of sleep- ripped by the warning haze of dreaming.
i sigh again, heavily unamused. i lend my hand on the edge of a desk and make my way to my feet.
i wipe my nose with the sleeve of my shirt- a petticoat of blood sheering itself onto the fabric.
although the majority of folk have already left- Kujo remains a stoic expression, standing at the doorway unimpressed.
he looks at me expectantly, and jerks his head to the right, indicating at something.
i linger my eyes on his for another split moment, and he finally looks away, closing his eyes with a scowl.
"we're going," he says. realistically, i think this is the first time i've actually heard him speak.. or, have a conversation with me in general.
"... what the hell are you talking about? you talking to me?" we exchange dirty looks, and he only nods his head.
"oh, who else? the ghost of saint maria standing in front of you?" he asks, seemingly annoyed. he tips his cap, and turns to leave. "doctor's office."
he's not seriously expecting me to follow him, is he? ridiculous. utterly ridiculous.
—————————————————-
[rewritten; 01st may, 2022- sunday.]
— 568 words total—
YOU ARE READING
can i help you? - jotaro kujo x reader
Fanfictionyou, L\N Y\N, are a regular girl who goes to high-school, nothing extraordinary about you. at least that's what you thought. you were shunned away by everyone, no one ever talked to you. you found comfort in your company. well, that's until a boy by...
