cool air / marceline & cassius

marceline jeon .

"i don't let myself out but i like it like that,
i don't get the point of leaving my house, 'cause i always come back"

I can't figure out what I possibly could have done to deserve this. Why, just why, is Cassius Rotgau sitting beside me? I keep my eyes trained down on my measly lunch of leftover savoury oats for as long as I can, but even while taking my time I clear my bowl much too soon. I play with the last spoonful of porridge for a bit, using my small spoon to push it back and forth and around in circles, before I finally give in. I take my last bite, roll back my shoulders and sigh.

"Excuse me, but," I slowly turn my head to face Cassius as I speak. In a way, I suppose I'm gearing myself up to looking at him straight. He simply is not the type of person I interact with; not out of any animosity, but because the distance between us is so, so far. I don't even come to school most days, so how does he even know who I am? I only know who he is by osmosis -- his friend group is popular enough that even my few schoolfriends talk about them sometimes, trying to subtly point them out for one reason or another mid conversation. "Did you mean to sit here?" 

A thought suddenly crosses my mind. Maybe he chose to sit here because he doesn't know me. I glance over at the table that the rest of the popular kids are huddled around. Maybe he's sitting at my table on a dare. After all, nobody sits with me. Eating lunch by myself all the time can be lonely, but most of the time I enjoy it. I've been doing it since I was very young; because of my weak joints I preferred to sit out of any games at recess, and I suppose my habitual solitude developed as a result. So, maybe it's a cruel prank, maybe he's curious, or maybe there's nothing to it at all. Whichever it is, I'd simply like to know.

Without waiting for an answer I turn away, then start to pack away my lunch things -- a cup-sized plastic tub with a lid and a pouch to put it and my cutlery into -- and lay out the balls of yarn I currently have on the go. Be here as he may, I'm not wasting this precious pocket of free time that I have waiting for an answer, doing nothing. It helps that knitting relaxes me too. Sitting and crafting by myself is how I protect myself from these sorts of run ins usually. People don't tend to come up and distract somebody working on something.

Here's hoping Cassius gets the message.