Chapter Text
Aglaea was never late.
At least not until today, at least not yet.
Her sneakers thumped against the grassy fields separating the university buildings. Such an undignified sight, the Student Council President running across the grassy fields despite the newly erect— and rather wasteful signage written in plain black on white of; ”please do not walk on the grass”.
Two minutes.
Aglaea huffed as one well trained leg bounded in front of the other, working up a mild burn as she’d run all the way from her, “somewhat near campus”, student apartment. Her mind tuned out the chirping birds nestled away in the green and vibrant university grounds holding steadfast against the creeping approach of autumn. She blocked out the whispering wind as it gently tugged on her denim jacket, the buckles on her matching jean overalls clanged from the excessive movements.
She shuffled through the automatic revolving doors, ducking and dodging past students who had no care about punctuality. She bounded for hall H423, the thudding of sneakers bounced against the dark blue painted walls of the main building at Herta University as Aglaea started to huff.
Thirty seconds.
Rounding the final corner, she saw the tail end of students milling into the lecture hall. Their various outfits and chatter a complete static against Aglaea’s rhythmic heart pounding steadily in her chest.
Ten seconds.
She gritted her teeth, sprinting the last thirty meters in mere seconds, skidding to a stop as not to crash into the small group of students still filing in.
Swallowing back her panting, she adjusted her jacket before pulling a black comb out of the breast pocket of her jean overalls. She combed through her golden blonde hair as she tried to ignore how her white, long sleeved shirt clung to her damp body.
Despite being the second month of classes in their second year, the entire auditorium was packed. Every seat that encircled the center of the room like a monolithic crescent moon overlooking the podium where the professor was stood, giving Aglaea a seemingly surprised look at being the literal last person to enter.
Aglaea sighed as she quickly ascended up the steep steps of the auditorium, a sole spot at the top awaited her, tucked into the left far corner of the enormous lecture hall.
Reaching the top, she began shimmying and apologising her way past annoyed students as they had to flip up their fold out tables and move their fancy looking laptops into their— well, laps.
Eventually, Aglaea arrived at her destination; the second seat from the wall. The last student she passed, a brown hair woman who’s name escaped her, eyed her cautiously, as if warning her of something. Aglaea was unsure what potential danger a lecture hall seat could possibly pose. Either way, she didn’t linger on it, quietly sitting down and carefully folding down the wooden table in front of her.
The teacher had already started his lecture, talking about the material and requirements for next week’s upcoming test. Aglaea threw a quick glance at the presentation plastered on the large screen behind him to confirm that it was the presentation she had already looked through the night before. She swung her white messenger bag into her lap and began digging for her note-taking supplies.
Her writing block was easy to find, but where was her pen? It sure wasn’t in its usual spot...
She desperately rummaged through her neatly organised bag multiple times, each time coming up penless. In her morning rush, she must’ve forgotten it at her apartment.
Cursing under her breath, she looked around hoping to find a kind classmate in her time of need. The student to her left said nothing, but had been throwing glances at her ever since she sat down. Aglaea had no idea what death and despair she was apparently treading close to, but it could wait until after the lecture.
She huffed before turning to her right, hoping whoever she had plonked down next to would find grace in their heart.
The woman sat in the corner beside her was clad in a white Lolita dress with light purple accents and sleeves. The frills on her sleeves perfectly matched those at the bottom of her dress and on the collar that was encircled by a pair of cream and violet headphones. Aglaea could see striped socks peeking out from under the long, flowy dress. A neatly arranged flower crown with matching colors sat atop her gradient white and purple hair. Her shimmering lilac eyes were laser focused on the lecturer at the front as her slender hands, adorned by purple silken gloves, gracefully took notes with a lavendar ball point pen. Her mouth was a slit and she seemed completely oblivious to the ruckus Aglaea was causing next to her.
Aglaea felt her heart skip a beat, the angelic choir in the back of her mind felt as mocking as it felt appropriate.
“Uhm, excuse me miss,” Aglaea whispered to the concentrated, pretty lady beside her.
Nothing. The gradient haired woman was either ignoring her, or completely immersed in the lecture up front. Aglaea threw glance at the other student to her left, but her concerned face did not look like she was open to lending her a pencil.
Aglaea had a bad feeling about it, but found that she had few other offers. With a tentative finger, she poked the dress-clad woman and whispered;
“Excuse me.”
She jumped with a small yelp before snapping her head towards Aglaea, furrowing her brows as mesmerizing eyes were set ablaze. She said nothing, but Aglaea was fairly certain that the room dropped ten degrees in an instant, surely that was why her heart was rapidly picking up speed?
The professor cleared his throat, adding a “please try to keep noises to a minimum,” the two women looked at the professor, Aglaea giving him an awkward smile. She hoped the rest of the class would be fooled by his roaming gaze, rather than staring at the source of his reprimand.
Once the professor continued— and only a few people had craned their necks to glare with intrigue at the corner Aglaea sat in, Aglaea could feel something boring into her. She swallowed, hard, before turning to the source of her unease.
The woman’s fiery gaze met her’s. The silence between them palpable as Aglaea’s mind tried to untangle itself from the rising heat in her cheeks.
Aglaea quietly cleared her throat.
“May I borrow a pen, I seem to have misplaced mine,” she finally explained with an apologetic smile.
The other woman sighed before reaching into her purple tote bag with a dragon motif on it and nimbly pulling out a sleek black pen, holding it towards Aglaea. Just as Aglaea was about to take the pen, she pulled it back and leaned in close. Her breath tickled Aglaea’s face, doing nothing to help the flush on her cheeks.
“I have one, single condition,” she stated pointedly, her voice quiet yet melodic, like a whispered siren’s song.
Aglaea’s head had never bobbed up and down so quickly in her life.
“Do not touch me, ever again.”
Something in Aglaea’s heart sank. The woman in front of her didn’t want to be touched, a very reasonable request. But why did she feel so saddened by it? She pushed it away, whatever it was could wait until after the lesson.
“Understood,” Aglaea affirmed, carefully taking the pen from the other woman. The moment it left her grasp, her head was turned back to the lecturer at the center of the auditorium.
Aglaea joined her fellow classmate in looking forward. Whatever parts she’d missed, she could surely revise on her own, no big deal.
Sadly for Aglaea, the deal did turn out to be big. Throughout the lecture, Aglaea found herself hard pressed to focus. The constant question of wondering just how she could’ve missed the existence of someone as pretty and beautiful as the woman next to her —for more than an entire school year, confounded her.
Was she perhaps a transfer student? She didn’t even know her name despite organising multiple university sanctioned events. Was she perhaps one of those students that only attended the “unofficial parties”? Or was she taking social studies as a minor subject, attempting to fill out her degree with an advanced class immediately?
If she was a transfer student, then perhaps there would be some kind of identifier of such a fact. Clearly, that was the only reason Aglaea kept stealing glances at her during the lecture. Maybe if she took juuust another peek she could place that round, soft face with the small nose and flat lips that made Aglaea’s heart do those weird motions just by looking at her.
By the time class ended, Aglaea had assembled about thirteen different theories as to why she didn’t recognize the woman she didn’t even know the name of.
The only reason she was thinking so hard about it was because she felt bad that the Student Council President couldn’t recognize one of her fellow classmates, obviously the only reason.
Students rose and quickly joined the struggle of making their way out of the overcrowded auditorium. Aglaea took her time, slowly putting down her notebook and making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything else in her morning rush.
She caught herself holding the sleek pen fitting perfectly in her hand, hovering over her bag just before she was about to store it in her usual pen slot. She stood up and looked at the mysterious pen benefactor, realizing that she towered about a head and a half over her.
“Sorry, I almost forgot. Thank you for lending me it,” she said diplomatically with a smile, reaching out the pen towards the shorter woman.
She looked Aglaea up and down, tilting her head slightly to the side, like a curious and judgmental cat.
“You can return it after tomorrow’s lesson. After all, I don’t seem to be the one in need of a spare,” she noted pointedly, face unmoving.
Aglaea felt a flare of heat in her neck, crawling onto her cheeks. An awful and familiar feeling creeping up her spine.
Embarrassment.
Aglaea never forgot something... at least not until now. She was always on time and she always brought her supplies. Was the universe seriously putting her next to this stunning lady she had never seen before the one time she forgot something?!
“I…” she began, searching for words. The other woman tilted her head another inch to the side, raising her eyebrow a centimeter, seemingly intrigued by the development.
“I usually do not forgot my things, and I will not be needing a spare,” Aglaea insisted shoving the pen towards the curious woman. “Besides, it is rather rude to infer things about someone without introducing yourself,” she huffed.
The other woman sighed as her eyes darted behind Aglaea, reminding her that she was basically cornering the poor woman. Noticing their predicament, Aglaea leaned on her folded up seat, giving her a clear path if she wished to dash away from the situation. It wouldn’t be the first time Aglaea sent a pretty lady running.
“Is offering the pen not manners enough?” she asked in annoyance. However, her tense body seemed to somewhat relax at Aglaea’s gesture.
“Not enough to insult me,” Aglaea said incredulously as she crossed her arms, opening up a clearer path as she put her shoulder completely against the back wall. Lilac eyes followed her movement, noting the gesture.
“Castorice, and I still think you should keep it,” Castorice said without missing a beat.
“Are you trying to say something?” Aglaea questioned. Despite finding Castorice aesthetically enchanting, she couldn’t help but rise to the insinuating challenge.
“You touched me, you should be glad that all I do is insult you,” she said sharply. The annoyance in her eyes turned into the same fire Aglaea had experienced previously.
“Are you threatening me?” Aglaea asked, confusion joining her concoction of emotions.
The entire exchange was getting more ridiculous by the second! Aglaea knew she was bad at first impressions, but this might be a new low, even for her.
Castorice tilted her head to the other side and sucked on her tongue.
“And what if I am?” she countered.
“I would have to write you up with security. Violence, or the mere threat of it, is not permitted on school grounds,” Aglaea stated.
Castorice walked past Aglaea, shrugging as she did.
“Keep the pen, I only need one,” Castorice said nonchalantly without looking back, her dress swaying dramatically in tandem with her braided hair. Something stirred and bubbled in Aglaea’s stomach, like a boiling pot of water ready to spill over.
Aglaea was a terrible loser. Even if her “opponent” was a pretty lady, she couldn’t let Castorice walk away this easily.
“You’ve already threatened me, how do I know you won’t try to get me in trouble for “theft”?” she tried. Castorice stopped dead in her tracks with a sigh.
“If I truly wished you ill, I can assure you we wouldn’t be having this annoying conversation,” she stated before starting to descend the stairs. Despite the literal threat, her words held something else, something that Aglaea couldn’t place. All she knew was that Castorice didn’t make her feel afraid.
A few heads had turned to gawk at their exchange, whispers and glances shared between the students that had stayed behind.
Aglaea sighed as she put the pen neatly into her bag, eyeing the descending Castorice as she made her way to the professor.
She slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and made for the exit. Some revisions out in the late summer sun would surely take her mind off of whatever had just happened.
---
Revisions in the late summer sun did not take her mind off of it. Instead, all it did was spur on more questions, quite the opposite of taking your mind off of something.
She still had no idea who this “Castorice” was, nor did she understand what she had meant by her ominous statement surrounding “wishing her ill”. Worst of all? Her mind refused to think about anything else!
No matter how much she tried to focus on Doylian school of thinking, societal structures, or going over her notes about early 1900s governmental and support structures, she found that the girl with the quiet, beautiful voice and fire in her eyes kept appearing in her mind’s eye.
The rest of the day was equally unproductive, save for the fact that Aglaea checked over the student register and did at least confirm that they had always been classmates.
Not a transfer student, nor studying a different program, how in Thanatos’ name have I completely missed her?!
The thought refused to leave her mind as she tried to busy herself. Reading a novel did nothing to help, nor did cooking “budget ramen” for herself, and her room-mate, Mydei.
She mentioned the incident in passing, all she got in return was a scoff and a promise that if this woman came for Aglaea, she’d have to go through Mydei first.
When she finally surrendered herself to the bed of her university apartment, soft white down covering her, she settled on an awful, awful realisation.
It was the same conclusion she always came to.
I am going to have to befriend her…