THE ARISTOCRATS #1

00:33

"It's so loud in here," Elijah commented absently.

Clementine looked up, startled. They sat in the senior common room of the school, a lovely cathedral style hall where majority of the senior students spent their time. The aristocrats sat in the middle of it all, in a comfortable conversation pit big enough to fit 10, yet the five of them sat there alone. Levi lay sprawled across the couch next to her, headphones in, watching an old french movie. Aaron sat on the floor, his head resting against the coffee table as he talked to Ronan who sat on the couch next to Elijah. The room was filled with students enjoying the last few days of their high school life, hence the level of noise Elijah was commenting on.

She was busy organising the end of year graduation speech, the one that she as the school captain had to do during the graduation ceremony. Because of her calamitous life and the recent unsavoury events, her head was everywhere and her speech was subpar at best. She was surprised that she was even allowed to give the speech, she expected her mother to interfere and somehow forbid her. But she had been receiving radio silence from her, and the other head teachers within the school were expecting one from her, so she got to work.

"Hello?" Elijah's low voice broke through to her. "Anybody in there?"

Clementine blinked and shook her head.

"Sorry," she apologised sheepishly. "I'm so spacey today, I don't know what's wrong."

His expression softened, and he leaned back into the couch. His legs spread as he got comfortable, his muscular thighs pushing against his grey pants. His tie lay loose around his neck, his hair ruffled into a delightful disarray of ebony curls. As his brows creased with concern, he slid the piece of paper she was writing on towards him, ignoring her cry of protest.

"You're tired. That's what's wrong."

"I don't have time to sleep, I need to finish this speech. We graduate in a week and i'm barely halfway through, and Mrs Furlington still needs to look over it before I can actually speak," she shook her head, running her hands through her hair.

"Get Ronan to help you, he's good at english."

Ronan glanced up, sending a nod of confirmation to her.

"It's fine, he's busy enough, I'll just scrap something together," she replied absently, waving a hand.

"Is that really the problem?" He asked lowly.

His eyes were intense and unwavering. She looked away.

"Yes," she replied firmly.

"You're lying to me," his lips pressed into a thin line.

The group went silent, turning to them. Elijah tilted his head, his expression neutral but his eyes warm and sympathetic. Of course. He always knew. There was not a single thing she could get past him. With a single glance he was aware of the sleepless nights she spent sitting on the cold bathroom floor, crying over old childhood family photos. He was aware that she could barely look at her old clothes as they reminded her too much of her family before the debacle. He knew that she could barely eat, barely drink, couldn't do anything because of the never ending sickness and disgust she felt towards her mother.

"I'm not. I'm fine," she breathed.

"You guys good?" Ronan asked slowly.

"Stay out of it," Elijah said mildly.

"Don't be mean to him," Clementine frowned.

"Then don't fuckin' lie to me, sweet girl," he countered.

She huffed, staring him down before turning to the others.

"Yes. We're fine and i'm fine, i'm just stressed about this speech," Clementine replied firmly.