Complaints
Honestly, it was another day of practicing magic today. It was… tiring. I was just clearing up Klaus’ books and trying to tidy up the prefect’s room before practicing magic. It’s a routine to do stuff like this for my boyfriend in exchange for some extra class from the famous ‘Emperor Klaus’.
I rolled my eyes, scoffing to nothing. Just thinking about it makes me feel tired already, Ghianna this, Ghianna that, “Ghianna, you’re doing it wrong”. Not really, it’s fun, but still, practicing magic means sucking my mana out. Seems like the scoff caught Klaus’ attention as he gave me a side eye.
He’d say something like “What now?” which I’d reply with “Nothing.” He’d be persistent, “You’re complaining, I can hear it from your breath. Out with it.”
“Yeah, but I get things done anyway despite the complaints.” I’d huff . “It’s better if you do it without complaining.” He’d frown as he continued his work.
And his words would end our short conversation with me glaring daggers at him, at Klaus who is just doing his work as a prefect, scribbling away with his documents or something. I couldn’t care less.
And damn him for being right. Always so logical, always so annoying, always so fun to banter with. This isn’t a serious argument or anything, if anyone had walked in on us talking like this, they might think we’re on the verge of breaking up and on a ‘cold war’ phase. When in reality, that’s just how we act around each other comfortably. The sarcasm in the air, the need for each other’s presence without doing everything together, just do what we do as long as the other is nearby.
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Getting tired with all the cleaning up, I sit on the chair. A thump as my body goes limp against the cushion. My eyes close, collecting my breath for a moment. The sound of Klaus’ quill grazing the paper feels so familiar, like it’s supposed to be lulling me to sleep.
“I’m tired, sleepy.”
Another complaint escaped my mouth like it was nothing, like I was done with the cleaning up when in actuality I only finished ¾ progress.
“Can’t we skip today’s extra lesson?”
I scratch my scalp, messing up my luscious hair that I haven’t washed in the last 3 days. They were right about this continent or wherever the hell Gedonelune is, you don’t have to wash your hair as much. By the way, I already know what Klaus would say, “There’s no way we’d waste time.” And then probably say something about convenience, discipline, and inconsistency killing discipline. He’s correct, again, and it’s so annoying that he’s right.
“Alright.”
Huh? What??? Did Klaus just say yes to what I asked for? What is with this guy today? That’s so, SO weird for Klaus to let me off the hook easily. My jaw was still on the ground when Klaus pushed off his chair to prepare some tea. I can only pout while leaning back lazily onto the sofa, there’s no way. Klaus must’ve already got tricks up his sleeves to catch me off guard.
But in the end it makes me a bit softer, not that I’d tell him that directly. The man probably already knows that just from a flicker of his gaze to my way, I’ll enjoy this as it lasts though. I’m not complaining.
