The pretty boy

Why was history so damn boring

Graces point of view
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I'm sitting in the back of the class for a little bit while people gather all the stuff they need for their next class

And get their shit together as well as mentally prepare for whatever completely different world they're plunging themselves into, because honestly, each class was an entirely new universe.

People start making their way in

I've split my hair in two and pulled it over my shoulders And pulled my hood on

It's a miracle just to see me with my hair down, it's usually tied up in a messy ponytail that looks like a dog did it

Who am I kidding

The dog would do it better

I have thick, just over shoulder length, messy brown hair

Dark brown

And light brown eyes.

I'm not exactly Someone you notice very often. I'm shy, I keep to myself, dorky and honestly I just don't really stand out much, I'm not the most princess looking person but I like to think I have a good personality

I'm also very, very clumsy.

It's almost as rare to see me not trip over thin air as it is to see me with my hair down!
Dammit, the bell rang, he'll be here now
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Ondreaz's point of view
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I headed back to history, after all that's her next class, so if she didn't go home then that's where she was

She didn't strike me as the rebellious type so I didn't picture her bunking class, I just couldn't think of her that way honestly.

But as I walked into class and scanned the room for her I saw someone sitting in the back of the room.

I didn't think it was her at first because I didn't look properly, but then I realized that I recognized that mess of brown hair, and when she looked at me, I instantly knew it was her because of those eyes

Those beautiful light brown eyes

Instead of taking my usual seat in the front of the class I took the one right next to hers.

I wanted to know if she was ok

I needed to know that she was ok

Before the teacher walked into the class I tapped her on the shoulder and she looked at me

I saw the temporary moment of pure fear that crossed her face, or more specifically her eyes, but as she realizes it's me she eases

I tuck the hairs that cover the place she was punched behind her ear and take a look at the damage

Damn, it was a super bad bruise

I gently touch it and she winces, I pull my hand away quickly and she's seems more hurt by that than the bruise, so I put my hand back in her face, and she seems to relax

I smile

That's when my teacher walks in and her and I quickly pull away and move back to our desks

The entire lesson was spent staring at her try to make herself as invisible as possible.

I should be paying attention but trying to figure out this girl was Much more interesting.

Damn why did history have to be so boring?