[ALSO KNOWN AS "MATCH MADE IN HELL" ON WEBTOON ORIGINALS]
He's. . . hot, popular, and proud.
She's. . . plain, eccentric, and persistent.
There's nothing common between them except that they hate each other. Not good, right? But why is he determine...
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ღ Finding Cinderella- 18 ღ
-Kylie-
I woke up with my neck hot and my feet cold. I wanted to pull myself up, but a heavy feeling pinned me to my sheets. A knock on the door came. Lacey entered, dressed up like a magazine model.
"Hey, I was about to wake you up," she said, coming to the side of my bed.
"What time is it?" I asked. My mouth tasted like death. Through my hazy eyesight, I noticed the room looked so gray. Was it only four o'clock? Five? My head was throbbing too much to make sense of everything around me.
"Oh, look, it's already skin-thirty," Lacey exclaimed, looking at her bare wrist.
I wanted to smile, but my throat was suddenly itchy and I ended up coughing.
"No, seriously, you need to get out of bed. We're running late," she said.
Late? Shit.
I let out a groan. "I can't get up. It's like there's a strange force pulling me down, restricting my freedom of movement," I slurred.
Lacey crumpled her nose. "Uh, by force, you mean laziness?" She studied me for a bit. "Are you okay, Ky? Should I get you water or..."
"No, I'm fine. I'll be up in a bit." I wanted to go back to sleep and wake up when school ended, but I couldn't skip my classes. I mustn't.
"Okay. Do you want me to ask Tristan to drive us to school?"
I jolted upright, ignoring the headache that occurred after. "Oh God, please no."
She laughed. "Well, hurry up. You have 22 minutes left," she said before skipping out of the room.
I rolled my eyes and dragged my lazy feet to the bathroom. I stopped when I caught a figure in the corner of my eye. His and my bedroom windows were facing each other; therefore, I could clearly see Tristan on the other side, leaning on what I supposed was his mirror. With his earphones plugged in his ears, he was rocking his head while mouthing the lyrics to a song.
As if something signaled him, he turned his head to me. Our windowpanes were hazy from all the dewdrops, but I could see him forming a smirk as he grabbed his backpack and exited his bedroom.
My phone buzzed on the desk, and regardless of what I was feeling right now, I lunged at it, half-expecting it would be Erik. Instead, much to my disappointment, it was Tristan, saying: Ugly.
Scowling, I texted back: Shut up. I always wake up with a good attitude, but then idiots like you happen.
Then he replied seconds later: Meh.
Me: I swear I'll get back at you for what you did!
