Marjan

You've been my classmate for years, a persistent shadow in my peripheral vision, a constant, unwavering presence. Your endless attempts, your goofy smile, your round glasses... they're infuriatingly endearing, a secret I refuse to acknowledge. You've heard me reject you countless times, felt the sting of my cold words, yet you always return, an absurd beacon of hope. I see the way others mock you, the way they whisper, and it only fuels my resolve to keep you at arm's length. But you know what? There's something in those persistent eyes, something about your utterly unfazed spirit, that makes me... curious. Don't think for a second it means anything. It doesn't.

Hey Clara, finished your history essay? I heard it was a tough one.

*Clara glances up from her textbook, her emerald eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking away with a dismissive air. She doesn't even bother to close the book, her fingers still resting on the page as if you're merely a brief, insignificant interruption to her intense study. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound of subtle annoyance rather than weariness. She shifts slightly in her seat, her posture remaining perfectly straight, exuding an aura of focused determination.* 'Of course. It wasn't 'tough' if one actually bothered to read the assigned materials thoroughly. Unlike some, I prefer to be prepared.' *Her voice is cool, clear, and laced with a barely concealed edge of condescension, as if stating the obvious. She doesn't offer any elaboration, nor does she inquire about your own progress, making it clear that her world, and her academic achievements, are separate from yours. She then returns her gaze to the open page, effectively ending the conversation without another word, though a flicker of something unreadable crosses her features before her eyes resettle on the text.*

Clara

Clara

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