My first La Corda D'Oro fic. I was technically writing a composition essay but somehow it turned into this. Its not that good and sorry if there were tons of spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes.
Disclaimer : I do not own La Corda D'Oro.
Synopsis : Len, who was always calm was not always calm.
The morning sun shone persistently on my still-sleepy eyelids. Irritated, I turned my head on the right side of my desk. Wondering about the current teacher in class, I stifled a yawn and grasped my overly-big pencil case. I forced myself to focus on the algebra expressions on the board but to no avail and I sighed deeply.
Stretching my arms wide, I sort of swung my hand on the wrong side of the room as I hit his eye. Leaping out of my seat, I continuously said my sorry right before a piece of chalk hit my unusually messy hair. Halfway, I spun around and grinned idiotically to Mrs. Lee. She made a face and I sat, staring at my classmates who were obviously laughing hysterically despite their unusually stoic faces which never failed to fool the teachers on 'how nice all of them were'.
As my gaze rested on him, I felt . . . I don't know. Happy, maybe? Good lord, that was weird. Maybe that strange feeling that sought into my heart was because of the indifference he openly displayed towards my 'accident'. Well, well! Obviously, someone here disliked me! That was new. But could someone care to explain the cause of the constant hammering of my heart, right now? I feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach as he was so close to my side. I stood there, motionless but I took back what I said as he walked out on me and headed to the front row for a different seat. Dude, that was plain rude!
In no time at all, I seemed to develop a certain interest and managed to crack a few info(s) about him. Firstly, I was surprised to know that he plays the violin and joined the conquors last year. Secondly, the rumour about him, living alone in that big mansion above the hill was true. Lastly, his blue hair was as I had expected, natural. Without bothering to explain my certain interest towards this ego, stingy, cold-hearted person to my friends was unnecessary. I decided to follow the other way home this time as I want to avoid that person at all cost. I stomped my foot angrily as I burst into the iron doors of the school bus, I bumped into someone, again! I was said to be the one who was always the magnet of clumsiness and my friends had kept in mind to not near me. I spaced out for a while and realized that I haven't apologized properly to the student.
An awkward silence followed. The person still didn't hear my sorry as he hadn't replied anything. I sighed again. This time, I bowed my head down and said sorry loudly. A finger nudged my forehead and I looked up just to see who did that to me!
"Idiot girl," said the blue-haired teenager who was coincidently the one who I knocked earlier.
I knew that deep voice by heart and glared daggers at him for the insult he incoherently threw at me. I whizzed past him and sat angrily near the window. I hardly notice the weirdo from 3-B who was sitting next to me. However, to say the least, that boy was a pervert. I was a shocked when a hand touched my buttocks. I let out a yelp, jumped upright and that unscrupulous person was giggling in such a demeanor that I . . . I . . . !!
and before I knew it . . .
Thwack! The fist of my evil violinist went flying to the pervert's face. Suddenly, the whole bus was filled with gasps and bellows of whispers. Staring unbelievably at my savior, he somehow dragged my hand and hopped us both off the bus, though our stop was miles away. My line of vision moved upwards, revealing the angry frowns on his face which made me aware on how handsome he was with that expression.
A pregnant silence soon followed and I let my thoughts flew through the wind which passed us along our strolling. I was stoned, to tell you the truth that even my hyperactive mind couldn't swallow the question he asked during our walk. My shoulders were rocking and I kneeled down. Smudges of mud began to stain my skirt but I didn't mind by it. He helped me up and started speaking."Seriously, Kahoko. Daijoubu? I'm waiting for your shock to happen. Please, help yourself to scream, shout, cry or whatever you like," said the hero of mine. I noted that there were traces of worrisome in his voice.
After a few, long minutes of walking, I decided to break our soirée. I held his hand and grinned widely. Then, the grin changed into a giggle and eventually fused into a laugh. He was obviously dumbstruck by my sudden bubble. I doubted whether he thought of me as a crazy psychopath who just escaped from isolation, but my fresh gales of laughter made him formed a lop-sided smile which I thought was curved around his lips beautifully.
I closed my eyes to hear the sound of the sun setting, and somehow from that subtle moment, I knew that Tsukimori Len was someone who matters to me. I don't know how to explain this beautiful feeling I'm having. It feels like listening to "Chaconne : La Vitali" or "Beau Soir" live performance but thrice better! Its awkward saying this, but I love him.
I love Tsukimori Len.
- I R U K A -
It was weird. The story was weird. GAH ! I'm a jerk. But I love Len.
READ & REVIEW !
A/U : I need a BETA !