♟️ Squidward Nose by Cupcakke
❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎
I only have two perfumes, it's all I need, one for day and another for nighttime, and both were given to me as soon as I arrived in here. Well, they actually laid down seven options, but four were pink, and the other was yellow and matched the one they offered Atlas', which suited Athena the best. So, back then, without even giving a shit, I just grabbed the bluish and the black one, instantly setting in my mind that I would use the blue at daytime and the black at night.
They are from one specific luxury brand that the De Vere Beauclerk own, and that I never thought I would be able to use their products like this. So, us using it, it's a way to "promote" the perfume. I couldn't care less about that though, but Athena certainly loved it and took the five perfumes I casted aside for herself, which she uses according to her emotions in the day: happiness, sadness, anger, tiredness, love.
While Atlas uses his three perfumes, all that matches Athena's, for three moments: daytime, nighttime, special occasions. He basically mimicked what mother, Damien, and Tristan do. I don't blame him for trying to blend in with them, especially because it worked out amazing to them both, as mom is being a stellar mom to them at final, Damian treats them like his children, and Tristan... infuriates me by trying to be the older brother. That son of a bitch.
Jaw clenching at the thought of him trying to steal the only real thing I have left, I put on my daytime perfume with notes bergamot, osmanthus, and matte. They technically have nine notes, but those three are the ones that stick in my mind, the ones that linger the most.
After preparing my bag with my ice skating uniform and clothes for training, my pilates uniform, and the P.E. uniform, plus my baby blue runners, I grabbed the sketchbook I'm working on now with some drawing materials I'll need, my electric blue iPad in the keyboard case with the pen, my school bullet journal, and the notebook where I'm working on the sketch of a proposal for the event committee I was forced to take part in.
All because the damned headmaster stumbled on me when I was in the hallway, and she saw the sketches I was making when bored, and said that the event committee was in desperate need of an artistic mind. The committee... that's made of people I hate and who hate me, plus Gemma, who's the vice leader of the club, while Keira Lexington is the president. Shocking a total of zero people, which's a nightmare because she's Tristan's childhood girl best friend, pretty much the sister he had with the boys.
She's protective of him, for whatever damn reason, which is ridiculous to me. You can imagine how she hates me. I don't mind it.
Grabbing the key of the black 2020 Honda CBR1000RR-R Fireblade motorbike that I inherited from dad, I left my bedroom and locked my door, wireless Turkish blue headphones on and connected to my Spotify account, that I have since I was 11 and that I began to pay after dad passed, as Angel (Anniversary Edition) by Jimin ft. Mark Ralph, JVKE, Muni Long, and NLE Choppa played loudly in my ears on repeat, intentionally to block all sounds around me.
I was descending the stair, my mind lost in my thoughts, when I blinked and suddenly I was hitting my body against Tristan's who was climbing up and popped up out of nowhere. He held me by my waist, avoiding me from falling down, and I felt my heart on throat, instantly heavy breathing with the jump scare. Pushing my headphones down my neck, I glared at him, "Where did you come from, dude?"
"You're going to school?" He asked instead, brows arched in a swift surprise.
"No, I'm playing schoolgirl cosplay."
His eyes darkened as he glared down at me, "Are you prepared to face the twins?"
No. "I wouldn't be going to school if I wasn't. They aren't nothing, nothing happened. Why wouldn't I be prepared?"
But his gaze narrowed, "They are raging."
"I have nothing to do with that," I exclaimed.
"If you say so," he clenched his jaw. "I'll take you with the twins, and,"
Pushing his hands away from my waist, I gave him a judging glare, then I waved my bike's keys at his face, "I don't need that," then I stepped away from him. "I'm never getting into that stupid Mustang of yours. God knows how many girls you've fucked inside that car, ew, disgusting," making sure to visually cringe to make my point, I put my headphones back on and got back to descending the stairs, feeling that gaze on my back and doing my all to pretend not to.
Walking to the kitchen, I greeted Mrs. Louise Cross who's the main chef of the cuisine in here, and began to prepare myself two good and old peanut butter and blueberry jelly sandwiches, with a glass of almond milk mixed with blueberry yogurt and brown sugar for and extra sweetness. Until she came to me with a gentle smile and pushed my headphones down my neck, when I was about to finish my first sandwich.
"Why don't you have breakfast with your family, Ella?" For some miracle of fate, she likes me, and well, she's precisely the only one in here that I wanted to like me, because she commands the kitchen.
"The twins will have breakfast with the De Vere Beauclerk," I blinked and she narrowed her eyes at me. "They are my only family."
"Kid," she chuckled, rolling her eyes, "you know what I meant. And the twins miss having their meals with you."
"They have Juliette, Damien, and Tristan."
"But you are the family that has always been there for them," she countered and I sucked on my cheeks. "And you've been stomach sick," she took my sandwiches away from me, "I'm not going to let you eat this American shit you call food, it'll only make your belly sicker."
"I'm American," I cried.
"Unfortunately," she mocked as she always does. "I'm responsible for your diet, and this is not going into it, especially not now. Go, eat something healthy, they are all in the table, your seat in ready."
"I'm just have my drink," but then she grabbed it from me. "Louiseeeee," I cried.
"This is not healthy, Ella," she set it away, then grabbed me by my waist and made me stand up, then she was pushing me out of the kitchen and for once, I allowed her to take me out, "come on, they've been dead worried about you these days, kid. Just fake it for today, okay? The twins were crying because they were scared you would end up terminally sick too."
I pressed my lips together, "They did?"
"Of bloody course, they did, Ella."
"Fine, just this once, I'll fake being as much agreeable as possible," I groaned under my breath, feeling my feet still hurting like hell from that night. "You own me a tiramisu."
"Deal," she beamed and I rolled my eyes as she pushed me inside the private dinning room where they were all in, Tristan back to his seat, after doing whatever upstairs. "I did a miracle," she chanted and I frowned annoyed. "She was trying to eat American food in the kitchen, I nearly panicked."
"Eating European food won't make me less American," I snorted, putting my stuff in the empty seat next to mine, then I went and kisses Atlas and Athena's forehead tenderly, winking at them, both with a wide smile on, then I sat where they had put me my place on, at Damien and Tristan's side, in front of the twins and mother. "Nothing will change the fact that I'm born and raised in the infuriatingly warm California."