𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬┊✓

e i g h t | h ü z ü n

«not edited»

hüzün (n.) a melancholy resulting from inadequacy or failure and being so heavily that is becomes communal, resigned, and even curiously poetic —
[origin : turkish]

Walking in the room with Pyper, it immediately felt homey and cozy. It was definitely a creative writing class just by the looks of it. It was perfect almost with bookshelves of classical literature, dictionaries, and references of Old English. Chairs, desks, and tables were pushed around all over, giving off a relaxing feel. There were vinyls stacked on vinyls with a few portable vinyl players in one corner. On one wall, there was a collage of pretty scrapbook paper and there were pretty flowers scattered around. And this is officially my favorite room.

My eye caught sight of Blake with a few other guys.

"Bestfriend!" I scream, slamming my books down on a near table and run to him, pushing through all his friends, and finally hugging him.

"Bestfriend!" He screamed back and threw his head back, laughing. When we let go, all his friends, who were all guys, were staring at me, hunger evident in their eyes.

"H-hi," I smiled, suddenly shy. They all showed their pearly whites and introduced themselves.

"She's taken," Blake growled, wrapping an arm tight around my waist, and suddenly tense.

"By who?" One of the boys challenged.

"By me," A voice came from behind and I thought I'd lose my shit and faint. It was Phoenix and looking over to Blake, he looked smug as ever with a smirk on his face. Phoenix came by my other side and wrapped his arm around my waist. My mind blanked out and I unconsciously leaned into Phoenix while Blake unwrapped his arm. The guys shot daggers at Phoenix and walked off.

"You don't want to mess with them, love. They're trouble," Phoenix whispered and let go of me. And I had to confess in my head, Damn, how I wish he didn't let go!

I wandered off around the classroom and I knew Phoenix and Blake had followed behind me. I stared in awe at the walls as I passed them.

Phoenix came right behind me when I paused at a wall covered in all of Shakespeare, Whitman, Hugo, and Stevenson. The wall literally explains my life!!

I searched for my favorite line from Stevenson and couldn't find it. What even?!

Turning around and facing the brothers, I quoted off my head,

"The changes wrought by death are in themselves so sharp and final..." And I stopped. When they realized I wasn't going to continue, both of them arched a perfect eyebrow.

"End that quote and we'll be bestfriends," I smirk and turn back around.

Wandering all around, I halted to a stop when I came by a wall that was all about music. Composers and classical music. How lovely! Turning around, I came face to face with all three Everett–Worthington's. I took in all their features and realized they all looked like Hollister and Abercrombie models. And then there's me. I'm literally no match for them. And they all looked very much alike. Blake cleared his throat, catching my attention and then he grinned. He pulled his hands from behind his back, which held a small velvet bag.