Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater! I only own my OC's, Jamie Elliot, Mark Jennifer (I've always owned him, I just forgot to claim him.) and Raissa Bel Garnaeu-Olive.
This is AFTER the gang meets Raissa.
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2. Not All Lace Gloves & Tea Cups
Raissa trudged home after her very exuberant meister, Hiro. She didn't quite know how she was going to get along with him, but she was a firm believer of not judging a book by its cover. She would know, she was a pretty strange book.
Finally, Hiro and Raissa stood before a aquamarine flower shop, and Hiro gestured grandly to it and the small balcony above, which Raissa assumed was her new home. "What do you think?" he asked, sparkles practically floating in the air by his head.
"Not bad." Raissa contemplated, tapping her chin. "Its cute, in a cliché romance movie kind of way." Hiro swallowed nervously, and said nothing. Raissa entered the shop, passing by the rows and rows of violets, zinnias, roses, lilies, and so on and so forth, until she reached a white door that when she pushed it open, lead to some stairs.
Hiro merely walked behind the foreign aristocrat, unsure of how he and his new weapon would get along. He did know though, that as long as she didn't sneeze he'd be just fine. Though, he was EXCEEDINGLY unsure that the princess would like him.
Climbing the solid gray stairs, Raissa opened one more door into a modest little apartment which consisted of a semi-detached kitchen that had an island and some out of date appliances. In the small living room was a red couch, a plasma and a gaming system with CoD which particularly caught Raissa's eye, and there was one bathroom and one bedroom.
It was small, but homey.
Raissa liked it. It was much better than the lonely, cold cream stone halls of the Accuiel Des Anges as her family had so modestly named the castle.
She turned to Hiro with a light in her ice blue eyes that made Hiro less nervous. "it's a very nice place." Hiro rose one fine blond eyebrow at her, "You sure its not to small? I figure, a noble of your stature. . ."
Raissa rose a hand, which immediately cut him off. Her icy blue eyes took on a slight irritated glaze, "Just because I am royalty doesn't mean you have to treat me like it. Treat me like you would treat Maka and the gang! In reality, I am no different." each word was clipped, cold, and irritated. And unfathomably untrue. Her being royalty did make her different, so, agonizingly alone. . .
Inside herself, Raissa screamed. She didn't want her meister to be afraid of her!
Hiro stuttered, "O-ok. Raissa." Raissa sighed forlornly, too late. Hiro then mentioned setting up her bed on the couch, since there was only one room, and bustled into action. So used to being pampered, Raissa didn't necessarily feel the need to help, so she sat on the couch and pulled her knees to her rather shallow chest.
She grumbled, she was flatter than Maka! Pulling her knees to her chest just reminded her more of that fact, and yet it was a habit of hers to do such things. Raissa Bel Garnaeu-Olive had a lot of quirks nobody would ever guess. Like her secret obsession with CoD, her utter hatred of dresses.
Yet, she loved royal dinners and parties. Hated the attention that being a princess got her and all of the annoying princess lessons and private tutors, but loved getting the privileges that people would usually miss out on.
Not your typical princess, that was for sure.
She'd even dated Antonio, a Spanish royal from Montreal, who'd had a horrible taste in suits, and an even worse taste in girls. His first serious girlfriend had turned out to be a girl who turned into a machete-staff.
Well, she'd broken things off before she'd arrived in America, but still.
As Hiro brought her everything and wordlessly sat beside her, Raissa felt the very familiar box slid over her. . .
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I had to explain Raissa a bit more, and still have a lot of explaining to do. Well, one more chapter of it. Like with Jamie! I hope I got Hiro's house close enough, all I remember is the outside being blue so I winged it. . . :D
Anyways, reviews are loved!