Eudaemonia | HUNTER TOH X GN READER

[1] -I broke a glass, I tripped and fell, I told secrets I shouldn't tell

Now Playing: ballad of a homeschooled girl by Olivia Rodrigo

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TW: blood (not gorey)

Story playlist in the comments -->

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30 seconds to get to class.

Three hallways.

Two left turns. 

One incredibly unlucky student.

You got this, Y/N.

Probably.

You rush through the halls, clutching the strap of your backpack for your life. You stumble past a pack of popular teenagers perfectly blocking the entire hallway, making you fight the urge to hex them all. Although, with your luck, you'd end up hexing yourself by mistake. You were finally about to get into your class, when your dumbass tripped on oxygen and you found yourself face planted on the floor. Aaand the bell rung.

"Titan, I'm a complete disaster." You mutter, standing up slowly and brushing yourself off, rubbing the numbness out of your face. You reach for the door handle to class and notice blood smeared on your hand. "Dammit." You mumble, stepping into class.

"L/N. Late. Again." Your teacher says, looking over at you for a split second. "Y/N, go to the office and get your face cleaned up.

"What? Is it bad?" You glance around the bard classroom to see some awkward glances from your classmates.

"What did you do this time?"

"Well, I was running to class, and I was really about to be on time this time! I'm like five seconds late! But I tripped.."

"I can see that. Go to the healer's office." They scribble something down on a hall pass and hand it to you, exasperated. "Now, most of you have a storytelling class as bards, but how can we incorporate that into the musical aspect of bard magic?" They start as you walk back out into the hall. You wipe your face with your sleeve, the blood barely showing up on the red fabric of your uniform, but was clearly smeared across the palm of your hand.

"Titan, Y/N. Why can't you try harder?" You mutter to yourself, fiddling with the hall pass. You stop by the bathroom to look at yourself in the mirror. The sight of your face was definitely not pleasant at the moment. A fresh area of broken skin on your cheek, the source of your bloodied hand. You fight the urge to reach up and touch it and turn to head to the office. If you try rinsing it out, the water will probably turn out to be fire and you'll burn your face. Anxiety was lying for the most part, but worst-case scenarios are your specialty. And anxiety with reason is more like good advice.

"Y/N, good to see you again." The lady at the office desk says, looking up at you and then a look of disgust/worry washes over her face.

"You too." You smile awkwardly. 

"Healers?"

"How'd you guess?" You joke.

"Ms. Benney?" She calls. "L/N kid is back." 

"Y/N, how's my best student?"

"At least one of the adults here thinks I'm the best." You shrug, walking over to Ms Benney and following her into the healer's room. 

"Y'know, if you wanna be in here so often you could just join the healing track."

"I hardly trust myself with myself, I don't think healing is a great idea for me."

"Oh, well. I tried. What was it this time?" She asks, opening a cabinet. "Sit, love." You sit down on one of the little beds with tissue paper on them.