laconic | sᴀᴛᴏsᴇʀᴇ

23. 》》 Selcouth

❝ (n.) when everything feels strange and uncommon. ❞

Have you ever experienced that particular moment when you're a hundred and one percent aware how hellishly wrong your exam went? And it's the subject you essentially keep a distance from because you dislike it to the core and it nauseates you?

But you still - in the face of all given circumstances - have this certain unconditional belief that perhaps some miracle would honour you with a decent score, that might save you from scoldings.

Heartiest apologies for bursting your visionary bubble - but victories and losses are an outcome of the efforts you had put in, that fire which took away your sleep the night before the examination. It's that endless zeal which racks you an A in that subject.

Why did I thrust such 'enlightenment' down your systems when it obviously was uneeded? Because, well, I was stuck in quite a similar situation.

We're the berserk youth, having severe anger management issues and zero self control, and that's why we tend to overlook details and seek it as an opportunity to counter back with an utterly and completely senseless answer. We're scared to deal with acceptance, Because you know, we put our ego above logical thinking. We're spooked by the idea of someone correcting us, although it's for our own betterment.

A shame, no? Welcome to reality.

Gladion was hyperventilating, paleness clear like snow on his cheeks as he glanced my way and almost threw his backpack on the floor.

"Where's Lillie?" He asked in one breath.

I clenched my fists, a lack of answers in my voicebox all of a sudden.

When I couldn't bundle up the daring to spill everything, Gary did it for me, his own speech wavering at every syllable as he inhaled,

"She's under observation."

Gladion's eyebrows stretched in horror, he moved a hand across his face as though to get rid of the tears that began lightening up the greenness of his eyes, his shoulders hunched in grief.

My sentimental side pitched in as I observed him sobbing under his breath. It was my nethermost weakness - To watch people cry and being hopeless of what might switch them back to normal again.

I avoided such situations, I was bad at being a consolation pillar, and I guess so were my friends - cause they resisted from uttering a single phrase when Gladion pursued lamenting, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So I did what my morals assumed was right, what practically was the most appropriate reciprocation to my blunders.

I sank down on my knees in front of him, sitting on the heels of my foot as my gaze lingered in a vague direction. I rested my forehead on the floor, clasping my fingers in a begging position.