The Little Dove #2 ✔️

08. Sense of Smell and Sound

CHAPTER 8: Sense of Smell and Sound

Lorraine holds up a checkered skirt from an antique shop only half an hour I the opposite direction of home and the academy. It was Friday evening, another week of the Academy, filled with more work, but it was work that I had anticipated.

I give her a shrug of nonchalance, "It looks the same as the one you already have." I comment, toning in a petal of yet another one of my fascinations with orchids, on black paper this time, with a white pencil. I glide it along the sepal of the orchid, using that particular angle.

Lorraine groans, "But I've had that one for a year now, it's time for a change, and this one is a different colour." She points out, emphasizing the one she is holding is blue, whereas the one she already had, was red. I nod in acceptance, but still in my world as I drag the pencil along the paper, still working on my toning. I assume Lorraine has purchased the skirt as she waves that we're leaving.

I sit up, placing my ornaments aside as I check my laptop is in there, along with my phone. Standing, I move around the table and towards the exit; glancing over, I see a brunette who strangely looked to be staring at me, but she smiled and nodded before passing, so I didn't think much of it as I stepped out and towards the cafe, Lorraine finds her seat.

I tilt my head when she asks the staff member at the cashier, "Could I please order a hot chocolate and a lava cake?" She orders professionally as she swipes her card and is given a table number.

I raise an eyebrow, "In the mood for chocolate?"

"The hot chocolate is yours." She says over her shoulder, turning towards one of the couch seating tables. I move to sit opposite her as she smiles happily at her three large bags of shopping. I thank her, glancing around the mildly busy shopping mall. I was over two hours late to Professor Forthright's session, and I didn't care.

I'll claim I was just too exhausted; the thought had slipped my mind...just because it was a compulsory subject did not mean I had to train my thoughts to remember when each session was carried out.

When Lorraine had finished, I took the hot chocolate to go, and we were back on the road to the academy. The rain flew across the windshield as I only had one hand on the wheel, the other holding my forehead; I was thankfully wide awake but annoyed when Professor Forthright rescheduled the session to be in half an hour because, for some strange reason, he'd thought I was just in class, working.

The week had consisted of bad weather, headaches, and ignorance from Edmund. He had a point of always walking past me in the hallways but never once making eye contact or even a sheer nod, whereas Lorraine was having legitimate conversations with Erik in their group.

Iris was always silent, but when I caught her looking my way, along with her brother, there was always that one menacing, magnanimous smile she'd send my way as if to say, 'you'll never be our equal'. I almost couldn't understand the look; Erik explained to them who and what I was...did they merely think it was just my family that held any sort of status or findings to our company?

I helped in engineering after training and discussing ideas with Mom over the years, setting what to publish and invent for the business. Something I found I preferred doing than the continuous routine that turned my world upside down.

It turned my world into a living guessing game that I struggled to keep up with when consuming hours of research into gossip, investigations of dreadfully horrific cases that I found heightened my sleepless nights in the silent darkness, to be a rearranging form of being drowned, or laid dead in a forest, or strapped to a metal mattress in an asylum with no way of getting out.