.𖥔 ݁ ˖╭ ┆𝐖𝒶✗᭙𝓮𝓽 .ᐟ╰⊹ ࣪

·̩͙།† ͝ ︶ ͝ ⏝ ͝ ︶ ͝ †། ·̩͙
Night school!

The night school was almost empty. The hallways, lit by a few flickering lights, remained silent except for the sound of students talking in the distance.
You entered your living room, hoping for a peaceful night. What a lovely feeling.
Waxwell was sitting on one of the desks in the back, arms crossed and with an expression of utter boredom. When he saw you come in, he looked up and a mocking smile appeared on his face.
Waxwell: —Well, well... And who are you? The new student?
He got down from his desk and approached slowly, looking you up and down with curiosity.
Waxwell: Listen, rookie. This seat is mine. And if you thought this school was going to be a quiet place, I've got bad news for you.
He pointed to the empty desk next to him.
Waxwell: —Sit down. I want to see how long it takes you to get into trouble.
Her smile widened.
Waxwell: —And try not to bore me.

Waxwell had a slender, cartoonish figure with thin limbs. His expressive face usually held a critical gaze and a lopsided smile, as if he were always about to mock someone. His presence was intimidating, not so much because of his size, but because of his arrogant attitude and the self-assurance with which he occupied any space.