Enough | ✔️

+ 14 +

SURPRISE, BRIOCHE ROLLS!

●（=｀～'=） ●

"Where did you go yesterday?" Hannah asks as we press the buttons for our respective floors, watching the doors slide closed.

I shift my weight to the other foot, hugging my folder to my chest uncomfortably, "I had to grab something from my room."

The look she gives me tells me she doesn't believe me, but she lets me get away with it anyway, her lack of nosiness one of her best qualities. I give an appreciative smile at her look of knowing.

"I'll tell you later, come by my room," I give in, fed up with hiding this from her.

The elevator opens at her floor and she flashes me a teasing smile as she walks out, "Alright, as long as you aren't busy with a certain someone."

I gape at her as the doors shut and she walks down the corridor backwards, holding my appalled gaze, "What does that even mean?!" I exclaim as the doors close, muffling her laugh.

Scoffing, I cross my arms.

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

I shut the door behind me, heaving a sigh. Already, it's been a frantic combination of chasing myself to lectures to avoid being late for the umpteenth time and dodging people in the hopes of avoiding a certain someone.

I glance at my watch as I remove it, deciding to use the four hours till my next lecture to shower and get some work done.

I'm barely fifteen minutes into my delightful shower when the most exciting thing happens. The most lovely occurrence.

Hair clean and silky, heavy with the fruity scent of my shampoo and conditioner, I linger under the steady jet of water, savouring the warm torrent which would soon be chased away by goosebumps.

I make a move to place my razor back on the dent-like shelf in the wall.

Stupid.

So stupid.

The razor wobbles and threatens to fall, so, like the hero I am, I hurry to grab it and save it from clattering to the floor.

My vision becomes obscured with the steam from the shower and the water that blurs my eyes.

The shower head holder decides that it doesn't want to hold the shower head anymore.

It drops like a stone.

I let go of the razor.

I slip to the cubicle floor with the sudden pain in my head and simultaneously manage to press the razor towards me in a tuck position, slicing both my thigh and my stomach deep.

Fuck me.

"SHIT!" I curse, hurriedly flipping the shower head over to stop it spraying the glass shower door.

I look down to bright red blood. Diluted with water, it drips down the side of my stomach and leg.

The pain comes after and all at once.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, owwww," I wince, almost scared to touch the razor again as I move it away from me.

The remnants of water splash into the cuts, sending stinging sensations ripples throughout my body like the tremors of a volcano. My hair is matted down, sticking to my neck and shoulders unpleasantly.

"Quorra? Are you alright?"

The sound of rustling outside alerts me that Professor Hartley has just come back.