That voice. She heard in the past. The way it wavered, the way it got lower, disappointed. Willow hated that voice. She hated when people used that voice around her, she felt like they tried to manipulate her. Willow squinted, her eyes going back at the default cold look. She looked at Aleksandra from her head to her toes, judging every aspects of her. She took back what she thought of earlier, she wasn't pretty. She needed to get her testosterone levels checked. She wasn't pretty, she was unique. She looked different. That was the only thing going for her.
She laid her eyes back on Aleksandra's face. She avoided her eye contact. Willow squinted, she hated it. She just said her mind and Aleksandra, someone who could break Willow in half with one hand, was avoiding the confrontation. She hated it, she hated how she reacted. Willow did the opposite. She relaxed her face and her body. Her eyes were still screaming to become the ice princess she wanted to be, the only proof of Willow's thoughts. She smiled softly. She remembered doing this exact thing in the past. Willow smiled without her teeth like a snake flicking its tongue in the air. Her voice erupted from her throat, sleeking through her teeth,
"Is there a problem, Aleksandra?"
Speaking in Colors
Awash in waves of paint; Paging Lore
It was getting harder to keep the conversation going Aleksandra was getting a really strong feeling that Willow was mad at her now, and she didn't think that she knew how to fix that. She wasn't sure what she had done to make her mad in the first place, and that just made it harder to think about. She felt like she had no control over where this was going, and it was making her increasingly uncomfortable. Her legs started to rock again.
How was she supposed to react now? She felt like Willow didn't want to talk to her, so should she just turn away and cut things off there? No, that didn't seem quite right. It would be pretty rude too, come to think of it. So she needed to think of something that could salvage this, hopefully something that could ease the tension a little.
"Did I say something wrong?"
Aleksandra wasn't sure if that was something that should have been said, or should have remained in her mind. Either way, it was out there now.
How was she supposed to react now? She felt like Willow didn't want to talk to her, so should she just turn away and cut things off there? No, that didn't seem quite right. It would be pretty rude too, come to think of it. So she needed to think of something that could salvage this, hopefully something that could ease the tension a little.
"Did I say something wrong?"
Aleksandra wasn't sure if that was something that should have been said, or should have remained in her mind. Either way, it was out there now.
Oh, that's rude. Answering a question with another question, Willow wondered who raised her. When someone asked a question, you answered as truthfully as you humanly can then you can ask your own question. Apparently Aleksandra didn't understand that basic concept of human interactions.
Willow's face wasn't angry or sweet. It was emotionless. She scanned Aleksandra. Willow thought she was pretty clear. She was busy in the next few days, even if it was a lie, and she might be unable to show her finished piece, which she wouldn't anyways, when she was free. Perhaps working out made the bone of your skull thicker and it pushed on the brain, causing brain lesions. That was sad, Willow couldn't help but look at Aleksandra and wonder how many brain cells had she lost.
She sighed softly, and smiled.
"I think... I wasn't clear. I just don't know if I'll have the time to show it to you. You know, 'cause I'm busy."
Did you get that, bitch?
Now, she probably needed to burn her piece. Great. She needed gasoline and a lighter.
Willow's face wasn't angry or sweet. It was emotionless. She scanned Aleksandra. Willow thought she was pretty clear. She was busy in the next few days, even if it was a lie, and she might be unable to show her finished piece, which she wouldn't anyways, when she was free. Perhaps working out made the bone of your skull thicker and it pushed on the brain, causing brain lesions. That was sad, Willow couldn't help but look at Aleksandra and wonder how many brain cells had she lost.
She sighed softly, and smiled.
"I think... I wasn't clear. I just don't know if I'll have the time to show it to you. You know, 'cause I'm busy."
Did you get that, bitch?
Now, she probably needed to burn her piece. Great. She needed gasoline and a lighter.
"Um... okay."
Aleksandra got the point. She wasn't really enjoying this conversation very much anymore, and she didn't think that Willow was either. It was probably best to pull back now if neither of them were happy with it. Art was supposed to be relaxing, and she felt bad about subverting that, both for herself and Willow. Even though her painting didn't really have any set rules, she still felt like she was bending them in some way because of that.
"I think I'm going to go back to my project."
That seemed okay. There wasn't much more that Aleksandra had to do with her project outside of waiting to show it to Mr. Clarke, but it seemed like a solid enough reason. After all, Willow was a painter too, so she knew how much work it took to get a painting done. She would be satisfied with that, right? Aleksandra hoped that she would be.
"Talk to you later?"
Aleksandra got the point. She wasn't really enjoying this conversation very much anymore, and she didn't think that Willow was either. It was probably best to pull back now if neither of them were happy with it. Art was supposed to be relaxing, and she felt bad about subverting that, both for herself and Willow. Even though her painting didn't really have any set rules, she still felt like she was bending them in some way because of that.
"I think I'm going to go back to my project."
That seemed okay. There wasn't much more that Aleksandra had to do with her project outside of waiting to show it to Mr. Clarke, but it seemed like a solid enough reason. After all, Willow was a painter too, so she knew how much work it took to get a painting done. She would be satisfied with that, right? Aleksandra hoped that she would be.
"Talk to you later?"
"Sure. I have to clean up first."
She picked up the undone piece. She smiled at Aleksandra. Her fingers dug into the canvas as she looked at the tall girl, she felt the wet paint on her fingers. She hoped Aleksandra was glad that she ruined her painting. She turned around, leaving her work station. She set the picture aside and came back to where she was. She looked at Alek's eyes, they were pretty. She wanted to gouge them.
She looked away from a second, picking up her brushes and the painting supplies. She was like an alligator, using the side of her eyes to judge her prey. She went through them, making sure she wasn't forgetting anything. Her lips opened and was about to ask Aleksandra something that has been on her mind for a while then she chose not to. Aleksandra must have seen it, preparing her ears for Willow's next sentence. Just because of that, Willow decided not to give her the death penalty,
"You know? I like your painting. I'm sure you'll get a good grade. See ya' Aleks."
With that, she waved her right hand. She turned around and left. She took a breath as she walked away, caked with paint with supplies covered in a thick layer of pink. She would find somewhere else to clean it. She couldn't stand being in this room anymore.
((Willow O'Neal left the art room.))
She picked up the undone piece. She smiled at Aleksandra. Her fingers dug into the canvas as she looked at the tall girl, she felt the wet paint on her fingers. She hoped Aleksandra was glad that she ruined her painting. She turned around, leaving her work station. She set the picture aside and came back to where she was. She looked at Alek's eyes, they were pretty. She wanted to gouge them.
She looked away from a second, picking up her brushes and the painting supplies. She was like an alligator, using the side of her eyes to judge her prey. She went through them, making sure she wasn't forgetting anything. Her lips opened and was about to ask Aleksandra something that has been on her mind for a while then she chose not to. Aleksandra must have seen it, preparing her ears for Willow's next sentence. Just because of that, Willow decided not to give her the death penalty,
"You know? I like your painting. I'm sure you'll get a good grade. See ya' Aleks."
With that, she waved her right hand. She turned around and left. She took a breath as she walked away, caked with paint with supplies covered in a thick layer of pink. She would find somewhere else to clean it. She couldn't stand being in this room anymore.
((Willow O'Neal left the art room.))
That was kind of strange. Aleksandra was pretty sure that she had messed up somewhere, considering how Willow went about leaving, but she still wasn't sure where or how. She watched as the other girl left the room in a hurry, supplies all gathered as she made her way out the door.
"Um... bye Willow."
Now Aleksandra was alone with her painting again. It was a position that she was usually comfortable with, but now it felt a little lonely. Was it because she had just been talking to someone else, even if it didn't really feel like it went very well? She wasn't sure.
She spent a few more minutes looking at her work and wondering about it. Was it as good as she thought it was a few minutes ago? Did WIllow really like it? Would Mr. Clarke like it? Her head was full of noise. Art class wasn't usually like this.
She wanted to go home.
(Aleksandra Prudius continued elsewhere...)
"Um... bye Willow."
Now Aleksandra was alone with her painting again. It was a position that she was usually comfortable with, but now it felt a little lonely. Was it because she had just been talking to someone else, even if it didn't really feel like it went very well? She wasn't sure.
She spent a few more minutes looking at her work and wondering about it. Was it as good as she thought it was a few minutes ago? Did WIllow really like it? Would Mr. Clarke like it? Her head was full of noise. Art class wasn't usually like this.
She wanted to go home.
(Aleksandra Prudius continued elsewhere...)