Work Text:
“Well. If that’s all, then I suppose the club is dismissed for now!” I said. “Anyone keen on hanging out after school?”
“Thanks but no thanks, I have a ton of homework.. I’m really sorry. Maybe we could try for this weekend?” The angel girl replied to me. She really did sound sincere.
Everyone else ushered a similar response. It was Monday afternoon after all, it's alright. I have homework as well, I should’ve asked on Friday. Everyone packed up their things and waved goodbye down the hallway. The angel girl sat in her seat and instead pulled out her binder and notebooks.
“Staying here to do homework?”
“Yeah. I like the atmosphere!” she responded. She opened her binder and pulled out a packet. It was math. Opening her graphed notebook, she wrote the equations down in a very flowy manner. Each step leading cleanly into the next, with a backdrop of squares on squares on squares.
“Well then, I’ll stay here with you for a bit. IIIII… just have to use the bathroom real quick. I’ll be right back.” I told her before running off down the hallway.
I ran back as quickly as I ran down, swinging on the doorway to catch my extra speed. It was fun. It’s always fun running as fast as you can.
I peered around the corner of the doorway, observing the angel girl. There was something extremely off about her. This wasn’t her cheery self at all, usually she is all smiles. She was leaning against the window which illuminated her face in that orange sunset glow. She looked.. extremely dead inside. The clouds that normally hang around her are gone too. I barely caught a glimpse of her eye in the reflection of the window. Not a flicker of light in those eyes. Like a void.
It was only for an instant I saw her like that. She noticed me pretty soon, as the wings on her head twitched and she quickly turned her head around. She seemed a little panicked, but was incredibly good at not showing me that.
“Oh! Hey there! Welcome back!” She said. The clouds that normally found themselves around her returned once more, concealing blotches of herself. Her eyes were so full of light. I’m glad she’s back to normal.
Wait. No. It isn’t the dead inside version of her that is fake. It’s this one. The smiley can-do-no-wrong angel girl is fake. Even I should be able to tell, no, especially someone like me should be able to tell.
I want to help her.
Pretending to such a degree couldn’t possibly be good for someone. I can tell she’s breaking. She broke her persona in school, while I was still around.
But how am I going to break that shell?
How can I help her?