❝ 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩. ❞
Celena Phoebe is quiet. She is misunderstood.
A person who has been traumatized by the past and a person who lost so much, even when living a lavish and prosperous life in the capital, Mitras. But she i...
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❝A Potentially Dangerous Cadet❞ Past POV 5/10 - Y.842 Eight years prior. - - -
"Oh! Look at me! I'm the best because my father talks to the king daily!"
Celena's head was shoved harshly against the rugged wall. She winced as the wall's sharp edges dug into her cheeks, undoubtedly causing scrapes and cuts to pierce her skin. She scrunched her face up as the brunette behind her grasped Celena's ginger locks in her grimy fingers.
"Little! Perfect! Scum!"
"Her and her weird hair! What color even is that? How unnatural." A series of laughter followed.
Celena never truly understood what it was with this group of teenagers. Their paths barely ever crossed, mainly due to the fact that Celena was homeschooled, yet they hated her. They would often tease her about her clothes, her hair, and her hobbies -- especially gardening. More than once, the teasing would get violent. But when Anabella was still around, she would help the ginger out by keeping the girls at bay.
"They're just jealous of you," her older sister reassured her more than once. "Jealous people tend to do embarrassing things."
Celena agreed with her, though she wished the bullies would leave her be.
"Let go of me!"
She whipped around, her spazzing arms hitting the brunette in a moment of desperation, sending the two girls to the floor as Celena's hair was still in a death grip. Bystanders cheered on, placing bets (as what better thing to do for rich people than spend money?) and throwing insults to fire them up more.
You want a fight? Fine!
Celena raised her free hand and aimed it toward her attacker's face.
"Hey, what's going on here...? Hey! Get off! Break it up!"
A freckled hand scrambled to grab the collar of the shirt of the girl holding Celena down. The ginger moved her torso up and rested on her elbows as she gazed to see who her savior was. It was a soldier, a man who looked about nineteen or twenty. Freckles decorated his skin like brown and tan paint splatters, growing in intensity on his cheeks and nose. They suited his eyes, a strong contrast from the brightest green Celena had ever seen. Even brighter than her mother's eyes. He had blond hair that he ran his fingers through.
The action had Celena's eyes snagging on the familiar logo by his bicep. The Military Police logo.
Damn it.
"Get off of me, you - !" The brunette kept struggling until she looked around and saw that all of her 'friends' suddenly disappeared. Seeing the anger on the man's face and the military logo, her skin paled a few tints. "Oh, no..."
- - -
"Thank you, sir, really."
Celena almost rolled her eyes at the desperate thank yous one of her maids, Rosella, continued to repeat towards the soldier. The said maid dropped the bandages on Celena's lap and obstructed her view for a moment to bow her head.
