PV Between Notes and Rivarly

TIMESTAMP ; june 5, 2026. afternoon	MENTION ;@Clark Stellan

𝔍une.
The bringing of good weather, summer, and exams.
And that simple fact was the reason why Emma couldn’t enjoy the lovely, sunny afternoon that all of her classmates seemed to be out in. She absolutely, positively needed to study.
She couldn’t even bring her notes outside— she would get too distracted and she’d never get anything done.
And if she didn’t get anything done, then she would never pass her exams.
And she needed to pass.
As she walked down the empty corridor towards the library, the motto of her family suddenly came to mind, the one her parents would never make her forget— the one that she repeated like a mantra:
Sapientia Potentia Est.
Wisdom is Power.
She couldn’t disappoint them. She couldn’t disappoint herself.
She heaved open the creaky wooden door that separated the library and the hall, and stepped inside, accompanied only by a lone ghost, who floated past her like she didn’t exist.
The smell of the library was by far her favorite in the castle. The collection of hundreds— maybe thousands of books within these walls filled the room with incomparable perfume.
As she strode into the room, she already knew where she was going to sit— a table snugly fit in the back of the library, right next to a big window.
It was her favorite spot. It always seemed the quietest there, even when the library was bustling. It felt like her own little world. It was comforting, in a way.
As she made the final steps and rounded the corner of shelves towards her table, she paused.
Someone was sitting in her seat.
And upon a moment’s more inspection, she realized it was exactly the worst person that could have made that mistake.
Clark. Stellan.
His name seethed in her mind as she took in his focused demeanor and piles of papers and books stacked around him like a barricade.
See, she had never officially met the guy before, but he was in a good deal of her classes— and that was the problem.
Emma’s self-sworn duty was to make the top of the class. In every class. And Clark had been her only setback to that.
They were neck in neck when it came to grades and participation, and it infuriated Emma more than she’d like to admit.
So she decided to be petty.
Where someone else could decide to sit and wallow in annoyance somewhere else, Emma was not particularly fond of— or used to— not getting what she wanted.
So she approached him.
“Uhm, excuse me,” she said in a particularly demanding tone. It was a bad habit, something she was trying to work on, but for this situation, it felt fitting.
“You’re sitting in my seat.”

As Clark took in the voice that spoke to him, he didn‘t feel the need to look up immediatly.

The quill he was holding continued to scratch across the filling parchment, methodically filling the final line of a diagram he had been working on, while he kept being surrounded by the stac of books and the many rolls of parchment, he had placed there earlier on.

Only once he finished up the last sentence, he laid his quill down, wiping it gently with a tissue.

Then he raised his eyes, and they locked onto the person that stood infront of him.

It was noone else than his one and only rival Emma. Emma van Elst.

Of course it was her.

What else should he have expected in the first place?

Clark had recognized her immediatly, even if Emma and him never actually interacted properly before this koment. It was difficult when they spend half their lessons silently competing against one another. Their rivarly sparked in every returned essay, every asked question, and every examination result. Every single one of them was met with either two names ranked top, or two hands going up in fast, because each of them wanted to be the very best. To beat the other one.

For a moment he simply stared at her, neither annoyance nor amusement crossed his features. He simply just sat there staring.

Then he let his gaze drift around the library, taking in the empty tables and chairs surrounding them in the other aisles.

His eyes returned to her.

“You‘re sitting in my seat.“

He let the statement linger in the air.

Than Clark glanced towwards the chair beneath him, as if verifying he was, in fact, sitting in a seat.

Then back to Emma.

For a moment he geniunly considered wether she was joking.

But the complete seriousness, that was written across her face, said otherwise.

Slowly, he closed the astronomy book, he was reading before being disturbed, not because he wanted to move, but he simply needed something in his hands right now, that wasn‘t his rings for once. His gaze continued to linger on Emma, while his mind drifted of to the seat. He‘d noticed it was a good spot, when he arrived here after class. It was in a rather quiet corner of the library. the big window beside it, offered plenty of light.

And Clark had chosen this seat exactly for those reasons.

And now the fact that someone apparebtly claimed ownership of this seat in a public library, hand‘t crossed his mind. He exhaled through his nose, and than he spoke, his voice being neutral as always:

“It‘s a library.“

A pause, before he continued talking, his voice staying the same.

“Anyone can sit anywhere they want.“

TIMESTAMP ; june 5, 2026. afternoon	MENTION ;@Clark Stellan

Clark hadn't even addressed her for the first couple drawn out seconds after her statement. He simply scribbled some things down on whatever he was working on as Emma stood, looming over him, her nose slightly scrunched in distaste.
But when their eyes met, the immediate shift in energy was so strong you could taste it. She knew that they had a mutual understanding. The silent competition they had created against each other was very much a part of their lives, as was eating breakfast in the morning and going to sleep that night. It was a part of their daily routine, almost, but it seemed like this was the first time someone had actually addressed it.
And it was happening right now, as they both glared at each other from over the table (and Clark's sprawl of books).
She watched as he looked around them, scanning his surroundings to check for other empty chairs, probably. But Emma was determined not to move until she sat where she wanted.
She watched him with almost unblinking seriousness, as he stared at her as if he was trying to decode her.
She dropped her bag on the seat beside him, but remained where she was.
"Its a library," he replied, picking up his Astronomy book. For a short second she believed that she had managed to will him away-- that he was packing his stuff. Was it really that easy? The thought soured the whole idea of trying to piss him off. If he was going to give in so easily, what was the point of being annoying him?
But that thought was soon diminished when he continued.
He stood his ground, Astronomy book clenched tightly in his hand.

"Anyone can sit anywhere they want," he finished.

"Well, why don't you find another seat then? There's plenty to choose from. This spot is my favorite. I need to study here," Emma scanned the mess around her. "You can go plot on my academic downfall somewhere else, since that's what you always seem to be doing."

Clark‘s fingers tightened around the spine of his astronomy book, he was holding, before laying it aside, as he was now finished with his homework for this subject. all the constellations, all the knowledge, was now marked in his brain, stored in his mental register he was creating. Knowledge that would soon give him and advance in class. For sure.

And when talking about this advance, would fule the competition between Emma and him all over again. And Clark was for sure not gonna let his advance slip out of his fingers, when he was so close to be getting a thight grip around it.

So he didn‘t answer right away, for a heartbeat he just simply watched her, his expression remained neutral, his eyes fixed on hers, no irritation flickering in them. Emma probably expected him to argue, to defend himself, maybe even packing his things and leave.

But he did none of those things. He stayed seated on the rather comfortable chair in front of the filled table.

Instead he calmly slid the finished parchment into a a section in his school bag, and than pulling out a new one, laying it down in front of him, and uncapped his quill again, that had rested on the table, waiting to be picked up again.

“You know…The library doesn‘t reserve seats.“, he replied evenly, his voice still carrying the neutrality, Clark cherished. “Not even favourite ones.“

Without breaking the eye contact they held, Clark reached for a another book from the stack he had brought along. His slim and long fingers gripped it tightly, before he opened it with practiced care.

“And if my grades concern you that much…I would suggest you probably should spend less time watching me study.“, he added after a short break.

Only then did his gaze finally break the constant eye contact, and dropped back onto the now opened book. His eyes gazed at the sentences written neatly in the book. Mentally the conversation had ended for him, because he had to calm his nerves firstly. Never would he have expected himself to stay this neutral in a conversation, he didn‘t exactly feel comfortable in speaking. He was usually more shaky, but this time he even surprised himself.

So incase of calming himself, he picked up the uncapped quill, and let it dive into the container filled with ink. He than sat the quill down, and began to write. Ink scratched steadily across the parchment as he copied an important note, that was written in the book, his posture remained perfectly straight, despite Emma looming beside him.

TIMESTAMP ; june 5, 2026. afternoon	MENTION ;@Clark Stellan

𝔈mma was fuming.
How dare he! Normally when she asked something of someone, they obliged.
It was strange for Clark to be putting up such a fight, but Emma didn't expect any less from someone that was so determined to be her rival.
He sat in the rickety wooden chair with perfect posture, writing without a care in the world, especially the fact that Emma was looming over him like a hawk.
But she noticed something about him that intrigued her.
For context, Emma had been obsessively tracking Clark's everything the whole year. It only made sense, since he was her only competition, she needed to know what she could do to snuff him out. But she noticed something peculiar while doing this.
Scars.
Clark had new scars every month, (and she knew it was every month, especially when she started another spesific 'Clark' compartment in her brain to track).
It had started with Emma's noticing of his scars popping up only after a month that Emma had other suspicions.
And they was heightened by Clark's sparse appearances everywhere around the full moon.
See, her father always told her that twice was a coincidence, and three times is a pattern. But by the fourth or fifth time, Emma's suspicions were practically proven.
She had made it a personal mission to catch Clark in the act. What she would do then, she didn't know, but she would do something.
"Why do you have so many scars everywhere?" she asked it like she had just now noticed.