The first day of Earth and Environmental Studies had gone swimmingly enough. At least, thatâs what Charlotte thought. The teacher simply introduced himself, the subject, and the grading system for the term, before letting the students introduce themselves one by one. After that and a few short announcements, class had been dismissed. The Arendelle native was glad that, unlike some of her subjects, this particular class did not give out homework immediately. Almost all of her classes had some type of assignment given to them, and though Charlotte didnât exactly abhor the thought of schoolwork, she kind of wished that the first days of her respective classes were solely dedicated to introductions and orientations instead.
Charlotte would not mull over these circumstances for long, however, as it was lunch time. After all those classes and the inadequacy of that small snack she had for recess, she was absolutely famished. The girl walked briskly towards the cafeteria, thoughts of a delicious lunch filling her head, before she abruptly came to a halt. Her brown eyes widened in remembrance of what her other agenda was aside from eating. Quickly, she removed her backpack, unzipped it, and fished for what she was looking for. Charlotte let out a small sound of approval once she felt it brush her fingers, before pulling it out. It was a small, white envelope with the official Arendelle seal on its flap, and it contained an invitation letter from her Aunt Elsa, addressed to her Auntie Rapunzel and Uncle Eugene. It was just for a small get-together, as far as she was concerned, but anything from the Queen of Arendelle was important. It was up to her to send it through one of the Fitzherbert children. With a small smile, she pulled out her phone from her pocket and texted the one person she knew she could give it to.
[ to dad cousin â where are you, dad?]
[ to dad cousin â auntie elsa wants to give you something]
A small smirk made its way onto her face as she pressed send and pocketed her phone. Charlotte had grown accustomed to calling her cousin âDadâ, primarily because he had the same real name as her father. She couldnât wait to see the annoyed look on the boyâs face once she referred to him as that again.
Thin corners of his lips twitched. Moments later, they opened in a large yawn, hurriedly covered by a hand. Tears sprang to his eyes, something he wiped away quickly with the back of his hand. The spartan schedule of daytime classes, afternoon sparring and late night practices was beginning to wear him off. He usually doesnât care, being one who rarely complains about the small amount of sleep he gets. It was his decision to join quite a number of clubs and manage the fencing team anyway. To top it all off, he has to supervise a bunch of kids at night, if not early in the morning for their âboybandâ. He never liked that term. Mitz organizing his schedule was like Atlas balancing the world on his shoulder, only heâs doing a bad job at it.
When the dismissal bell rang, Mitz almost leaped out of his chair in relief. Except he didnât had the energy to do so, so he settled with lazily dragging his feet outside the room. Fresh air and no one to bother his peace and quiet. What else could he ask for? As if on cue, he felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket, an impending sense of doom flooding him at the thought of whoeverâs name will pop up once he reaches for it. Mitz only has a few contacts saved on his phone, and about 90% are people he refuses to be associated with. So when he checked whom the messages came from, he let out a sigh of relief. At least Charlotte was someone he could talk to without questioning his sanity. Or so he thought.
ăSMS â charlotteădonât you think calling me âdadâ is getting a little too old? what if your friends misunderstand? i hope they do donât go crying to me when they leave you~~
ăSMS â charlotteăiâm in front of the north wing by the vending machine. bring food.
With that, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and sat on the cold marble fence, waiting for Charlotte to ruin the solitude he has remaining.