VIOLETTES VIEW
"Ainsley has always had a rather unique personality, a blend of athleticism and scholarly pursuits. He dominated whatever sport he chose until the middle of his second year in middle school. Suddenly, he veered away from athletics and poured himself into academics. It was a perplexing shift, leaving everyone wondering about the hidden currents of his mind. Despite the transition, he maintained his physical regimen, as if driven by an unseen force. As time passed, he transformed from the school's athletic icon to its academic luminary, effortlessly excelling in every field he ventured into. Yet, the mystery shrouding his motivations remained intact. Even I, his closest confidante, couldn't penetrate the walls he erected around his thoughts. Perhaps today, amidst the celebration with his relatives, I'll glean a fresh insight into the enigma that is Ainsley," Violette muses, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips as she imagines catching a glimpse of Ainsley's dark hazelnut eyes later.
"As we stand on the brink of our final year of high school, the future seems both daunting and exhilarating. What path will Ainsley tread once he crosses the threshold of graduation? The uncertainty tingles in the air, a palpable energy that propels us forward into the unknown. But for now, I must focus on the present," Violette reminds herself, her reflection bathed in the golden hues of the morning sun streaming through her window. The sunlight dances across her pale white skin and contrasts with her dark black hair, casting a spell of ethereal beauty. She stands tall at 5'9" or 175 cm, her bright white eyes shimmering with determination. Yet, a secret lies hidden behind those captivating eyes – only her mother knows the truth about the azure hue that graces her irises. Violette slips into her blue-colored contacts, maintaining the facade she's crafted meticulously.
"Violette, are you ready? I better not have to come up those stairs; I told you we needed to be leaving early this morning so that we could have time to set up!" her mother's voice echoes from downstairs, breaking the reverie.
"Don't worry, Mom, I'm up and almost ready," Violette calls back, her mind momentarily drifting back to thoughts of Ainsley. Shaking off the distraction, she swiftly dons a pair of jeans and a shirt that accentuates her figure, the fabric hugging her curves in all the right places. With one last glance in the mirror, she throws open her door. THUD...
"Gosh darn, why are you hitting me with the door? I was just going to check on you to make sure you were actually up! There is absolutely no reason to be so violent," Ainsley grumbles, rubbing his head where the door made contact.
Violette feels the heat rising to her cheeks as embarrassment floods her senses. "Oh my gosh, I am so, so sorry. I didn't know you were there; I was just hurrying so I wasn't paying any attention!" she stammers, her gaze locked on Ainsley's dark hazelnut eyes as he opens them.
Their eyes meet in a moment of silent understanding, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air. "Oh gosh, Violette, are you alright? You look a little red; do you have a fever?" Ainsley's voice breaks the silence, concern etched in his features as he reaches out to touch her forehead.
"No, I'm fine, don't worry about me!" Violette replies hastily, her heart fluttering erratically in her chest as she steps back, suddenly acutely aware of their proximity. "Well, breakfast is sure to be ready soon. Do you know if Richard is up yet?" she adds, attempting to deflect the attention away from herself.
Ainsley nods, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he responds. "Well, fine if you're sure, I won't ask any further. But if I start to notice any other signs that you're sick, I'll tell your mom, got it? You're already a little warm, so just be careful today, okay? And also, no, I'm not sure. This is the first time I've left my room today as well," he says, his concern evident in his voice.
With a nod, Violette accepts his words, though her mind is elsewhere. "Well, that makes sense. Let's go ahead and go grab some breakfast," she suggests, the fluttering in her stomach intensifying as she catches Ainsley's gaze once more. Despite her best efforts to appear composed, she can't help but feel a surge of longing for something more – a connection that transcends the boundaries of friendship.
As they descend the stairs together, Violette can't shake the feeling of Ainsley's presence beside her, the warmth of his hand still lingering on her forehead. She steals glances at him when she thinks he's not looking, admiring the way the sunlight catches the highlights in his brown hair, the curve of his jawline as he speaks. Each moment spent in his company only deepens her infatuation, yet she knows that their friendship is a delicate balance she dare not upset. But today, amidst the festivities and the laughter of their relatives, she allows herself to dream of a future where perhaps, just perhaps, her feelings for Ainsley might be reciprocated.