Lunch at Velcrest Academy was my favorite ti of day.
There was just sothing about it—the lazy sun, the buzz of idle chatter, the way the food almost tasted better because it ant I didn’t have to think about classes or weirdos for a while.
For those brief monts, I could pretend life was peaceful.
I wished it could last forever. No drama, no interruptions—just , my food, and so quiet.
But of course, the world hated .
It always did.
"We need to talk."
And just like that, there she was.
The Purple-Lacquered Ice Queen herself—Violet.
I didn’t even bother looking up. "Can’t it wait till I’m done eating?"
I tried to resist, half-heartedly, but she wasn’t having it.
She pulled out the chair across from and sat down like she owned the whole damn cafeteria.
"Lately... Leo’s been acting strange."
I paused, my fork halfway to my mouth. "That..."
’That bastard is always acting strange, you clingy witch.’
The words burned at the edge of my tongue, but I held them back with heroic restraint.
I deserved a dal for how much self-control I’d been exercising lately.
"Really? I haven’t noticed anything," I said, shoveling food into my mouth like nothing was wrong.
I must’ve reached so higher plane of patience by now—maybe even enlightennt.
Honestly, whether they were pink-haired or purple-eyed, these heroines all acted the sa.
It was exhausting.
They weren’t even trendy anymore. The whole "stoic, icy, but secretly caring" thing? Outdated.
If you ask , the world could use a little spice. Shake things up. Break a few tropes.
Especially when they ca marching up to with their "We need to talk" like they were my boss.
"He acts normal most of the ti," Violet continued, "but then out of nowhere, he flinches or runs away. And it only happens when Rachel Evans is around."
Ah. So she had been paying attention.
Figures. Violet was known for her sharp eye—so even said she had the best observational skills in the entire academy.
Or maybe Leo was just that obvious.
Either way, things were about to get complicated.
Again.
I leaned back in my seat, chewing slowly, pretending to mull it over.
...but of course, I already knew where this conversation was headed the mont I opened my mouth.
Still, I couldn’t just lie and brush it off. That would only complicate things further, and frankly, I was too lazy to deal with any additional drama.
So, screw it.
Here goes nothing.
"It’s nothing, really," I said casually, setting down my fork. "It’s just that... Leo confessed to my sister once. Got rejected. She was his first love."
Violet blinked. Once. Twice.
"...Ah, so... what?"
And just like that, the light drained from her eyes.
Huh?
That reaction was... oddly intense.
Did I just accidentally hit her with emotional whiplash?
"Why do you look so shocked?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Wait... do you like Leo or sothing?"
Violet stiffened.
Her lips tightened, her gaze cooled several degrees, and she spoke in that sharp, crystal-clear tone she always used when pretending not to care.
"No. What I feel for Leo Taylor isn’t so trivial romantic emotion. Can you not reduce every connection between a man and a woman to shallow sexual attraction?"
Oof. She even threw in his full na.
That’s how you know it hit a nerve.
I leaned back again, letting a small smirk creep onto my face.
Sure, Violet.
Keep telling yourself that.
I didn’t say anything, but inside I was laughing. Hard.
She didn’t know it, but I probably understood her better than she understood herself.
It was subtle, but it all made sense now. Her sharp glances, her odd concern, her weird timing when she decided to "talk."
Violet was one of those rare types.
A character who, even though she liked Leo, didn’t want to be his lover.
No, she wanted to stay by his side. As his aide, his shield, maybe even his sword—but never his heart.
A little tragic.
A little noble.
A little stupid, honestly.
But hey, not my circus. Not my ice queen.
I picked up my fork again, finally ready to enjoy the last few bites of my now-cold lunch.
Sowhere in the background, Violet was still silently processing what I said, probably rewinding the last three years of her life.
Maybe I should’ve lied after all.
Nah. This was more entertaining.
Violet didn’t say anything for a while. She just sat there, her posture stiff, eyes unfocused as if replaying a movie she didn’t know she had a starring role in.
I assud she’d leave.
She didn’t.
Instead, she exhaled—soft and controlled, like she’d just finished running a ntal marathon.
"...So that’s what it was," she murmured, more to herself than .
I raised an eyebrow. "What was what?"
She blinked, focusing on again. "The way Leo flinches. It’s not Rachel that scares him. It’s what she reminds him of."
"Oh?" I tilted my head. "You’re doing that thing again—piecing together trauma like it’s a puzzle. You should consider becoming a therapist."
She ignored the jab, eyes narrowing. "Rachel Evans. Tall. Cold. Composed. She’s not like your sister, but..."
"She’s exactly like my sister," I finished for her.
Violet nodded. "That explains everything."
"Wow. Soone give this girl a gold star," I muttered, more impressed than I’d admit out loud.
"Don’t mock ," she snapped.
"Who’s mocking?" I smiled, resting my chin in my hand. "You’re impressive, Violet. Almost scary. If Leo’s ever kidnapped, remind to put you on the case."
She crossed her arms, gaze hard. "You knew all of this from the start, didn’t you? And yet still didn’t say anything."
"No one asked till now."
Aside from Pink hair Yander, Nora Hayes, who also asked the sa question but not directly as Violet.
...But she asked about Ryen while Violet is asking about Leo.
Really, they’re sa.
Anyway, after my words, She fell silent.
I finally looked up.
Violet was staring at the tabletop, brows faintly furrowed, lips pressed in a tight line. Her fingers drumd once against her teacup, then stopped. That tiny motion alone told she was way more rattled than she wanted to admit.
"You know," I said, prodding the last bit of at on my tray, "if you really weren’t feeling anything, you wouldn’t be here trying to dissect Leo’s psyche over lunch."
"I’m just... concerned. That’s all."
"Sure."
"Don’t ’sure’ ," she snapped.
I raised a brow, intrigued. She was cracking. And I hadn’t even started trying.
"You want my advice?" I asked, pointing my fork lazily at her. "Next ti you’re confused about your feelings, don’t co to while I’m eating. Write a letter. Talk to a wall. Scream into a pillow. But don’t ruin lunch."
"You’re deflecting."
"No, I’m digesting."
Another sharp exhale from her. Then a long pause.
"...Do you think Leo still has feelings for your sister?"
Ah. So that was it.
I tilted my head, resting my chin on my hand. "Honestly? Probably not. It was years ago. He got rejected. My sister moved on. Leo’s just... Leo. He clings to emotions like duct tape on a broken chair. He doesn’t know when to let go."
Violet looked down again. Her expression was unreadable now. That typical blank slate she wore whenever emotions threatened to show.
"Then what’s going on with him?" she murmured.
"Dunno," I said. "Maybe he’s scared of Rachel. Maybe she reminds him of soone. Maybe he saw her beat up a student behind the gym and now he flinches every ti he hears heels clicking."
Violet actually blinked at that. "You’re not taking this seriously."
"Oh, I am. I’m just not panicking like you are."
She didn’t deny it.
I took that as a win.
"...If you’re that worried," I added, "why not just ask him directly?"
Violet didn’t respond right away. She stared at for a second, then slowly got to her feet.
"You’re more annoying than I expected."
"Aw, don’t flirt with now."
She turned sharply, cloak swishing behind her like so noble character in a tragic stage play, and walked off.
I watched her go, finally eating my last bite of lunch in peace.
Well.
That was fun.
If Violet wasn’t in love, she was doing a terrible job pretending not to be.
And if Leo was involved, well... this whole situation was going to spiral eventually.
But ?
I had mashed potatoes, diocre at, and a front-row seat.
Perfect.
Anyway, I wonder who will co to next to talk about love Life?
Not Ryen or Leo right?
Will I just continue to give advice to everyone?
...What about my love life?
When will my Real Youth co?
... Maybe I will remain single.
Just like I was in my last life.
How Pathetic.
...But it wasn’t like I was desperate for love.
Really...I wasn’t.
After all I love myself more than anyone.
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