It's Not What It Looks Like

ꜰᴏᴜʀ | ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫.

To be fair to the world, though, perhaps she is being just a touch dramatic. The fact that it's so goddamn early could just as likely be the one to blame for these feelings of misery. Or maybe this is just how Monday mornings are supposed to feel: all tired and bleak and downright murderous. Almost as though her sense of morality has failed to download for the day, leaving everybody in her vicinity dangerously exposed to her foul moods.

The fact that she spent last night sharing a bed with a notorious sleep tosser does little to improve the situation.

But those are all things that she can handle.

Silena can deal with sleepless nights, gloomy weather, and (though this one is a bit more difficult) mismatched socks. She's perfectly used to long drives to school. Burning her tongue on a morning cup of tea is not a new occurrence in her life. She can even handle Mena Skelin's face being the very first thing she sees in the morning: bleary-eyed, but somehow still utterly adorable, with her bedhead and all.

In full honesty, it's not even that bad of a face.

Objectively speaking.

Not that the rest of Mena is bad, per se. Minor inconveniences aside- like the fact that she often consumes her (albeit tiny) size in coffee- Silena is rather content with her new roommate.

She is, however, significantly less content with the fact that the misery of Monday mornings does very little to affect the said roommate's talking ability.

During the car ride, both dad and Mena attempt to rope Silena into a conversation, but never exactly succeed. Her contributions are a rather uninviting combination of snappy and short; just barely wordy enough for it to be socially acceptable of her not to say anything else for the rest of the drive.

Lucy, who sits next to Mena in the backseat, is the only one Silena's currently able to align herself with.

Though they aren't at all blood-related, the fact that they are sisters is glaringly apparent in the way they both approach mornings with a profound distaste. Right now, however, Silena isn't so sure she appreciates Lucy's grumpy solidarity. Every few minutes, the little girl kicks the back of her older sister's seat, and watches her sketchers light up with an unhinged look in her eyes.

But at least she doesn't say much. Other than sleepily asking Mena which one of her barbies she thinks has a better chance at world domination, she is entirely silent.

Mena seems almost glad about this- likely because her opinion on the deadliest Barbie Cinematic Universe character isn't quite as fleshed out as it ought to be.

Even the early morning chatter and the kicks at her seat were bearable, though. Far from what Silena would refer to as pleasant, of course- but hardly something to base your lawsuit against the universal forces on. Pain in the ass (or, well, back), alas nothing to write to the head office about.

But having to chase your roommate down the hall in platform boots?

Now, that just seems like a personal attack.

It starts, like most problems in Silena's life, with Jonah; and an obligatory assistance from Emilia.

Silena is sitting at her cafeteria table- doing a splendid job of ignoring everyone around her- when Emilia slams her tray down with righteous fury. She sighs, and Silena takes a bite out of her apple, lacking the energy to look up. But then Emilia sighs again, with feeling, and Silena knows that some attention must be given. At least, if she doesn't want her friend to huff and puff for the entirety of lunch.