[One Shot] A Story With A Point

Chapter 3: Chapter 2


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Mitchell asked me not long ago to teach her my style of writing. I was never really sure what to do at first. Furthermore, the concept of teaching really clashed with my beliefs; in a way, it was a demanding endeavor that I wasn't really prepared to undertake. In any case, there was no need to completely waste her tenacity because of her willingness. She can undoubtedly accomplish her goals and outperform me if I play my cards very well. I'll just have to keep teaching her new things and keep explaining how I think.

When I first started reading her stories, I questioned her on a variety of topics regarding the organization and inspiration for her stories. In a nutshell, I wanted to know from her how she structures her paragraphs, like how she makes them easy to understand for her audience or for herself.

And since I naturally use the basic concepts of grammar without even knowing what they are, in which, I decided that I wasn’t going to cover them because I usually use the internet for those things. Yes, writers can be either artificial or natural, building a story on different foundations.

However, I made the decision that she should be much more knowledgeable about the theory because she cannot do things the way I do. 

The majority of my recommendations focused on enhancing how her stories are understood by the general public and how they can effectively be produced to completely create a detailed environment. 

However, I won't delve too deeply into it. Even though I'd like to spend a lot of time talking to myself, I'm actually still instructing her as I chatter in my head. Additionally, we have a significant guest with us who appears a little bewildered and uninformed about the situation at hand.

"Even though it's only been a week, it seems like you've been having fun with a girl who isn't even your age. Nat, will you elaborate? Sarah looks at me with a foul expression as if she's about to fire a gun at me.

In addition, she refers to me as "Nat" to express our mutual understanding and improved relationship. It's similar to what people call these days “couple names," except that only one letter accounts for an entire flawless display of love.

“I thought I already explained everything to you a week ago,” I murmured. 

Is she envious? She is, is she not? Oh, dear. Although I'm sure I'd experience the same emotions in this circumstance, I have to admit that the pressure is absolutely unbearable. It's as if the execution day will start playing right away if I don't clarify this.

I cleared my throat, and spoke, "I wouldn't attempt to break your faith.” I grasped her small and clean fingers as I looked at her closely with such commitment. “After a week, I can honestly say that I don't care about this up-and-coming writer at all. This late-night activity is my way of showing her how much I appreciate her commitment to pursuing me just to learn my trade.”

“Y-You're too close… I completely understand your desire to assist her. However, you cannot merely instruct her during the day—”

“Master, can you please check my draft?” Mitchell looked at me, excited to see how much she had done or if she was closer to what I was actually trying to envision about her.

And of course, I immediately skimmed right through and responded, “This is great, Mitchell. However, the tone is inconsistent. Personally, I find it difficult to follow the characters' basic characteristics, making any implications impossible.” After giving my opinion, I noticed that Sarah was pulling Mitchell's cheek because she was angry with the soulless Mitchell’s interference.

"Hasn't anyone told you to stay out of other people's conversations?" Sarah's face twitched and she kept pulling her cheek back and forth. 

"Aym sowy, mawstews gawrfwend," Mitchell retorted.

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“At least you guys are on good terms.” I butted in.

“How so?!” Sarah asked with a bewildered face.

Mitchell agreed by responding, “Yesh.”

I smiled, and said, "Besides, I enjoy the lively atmosphere; it's not every day that I'm with two people and talking about different things," I suddenly waved both hands in their direction. “However, I'm not trying to say that I wouldn't have any quality time with just you, Sarah. And I hope we can be together more…”

This kind of scenario has always been present in my head, chatting and spending time with a small group of people in my home because we are all there to have fun. This really makes me cry internally for some reason.

I suppose that I have achieved it, and now that I have, I feel like I want more of it.

Mitchell puts a stop to Sarah’s endless (not anymore) cheek-pulling attacks, “I agree with you, Master. I’ve never actually had any friends, so this is the first time I am spending my time with two people.”

“Woah, that’s just depressing,” I said out loud. 

“Look who’s talking.” Sarah casually retorted. “And yeah, maybe it’s not bad, but you gotta make up for this, okay?”

“I’ll give you a lot of love if that’s what you want, Sarah.” I romantically declared.

“Cringe.” Mitchell makes fun of me, and we laughed about it. But Mitchell’s laugh was more like a robot attempting to speak human though, but otherwise, at least she’s trying. 

We sometimes decide to spend time together at this point as a kind of relationship-building activity. And yes, I set aside time for Sarah so that I won't catch fire from her immense ember of rage. 

Seriously, things are improving in some way.

I occasionally consider the possible outcomes if Mitchell or Sarah had never found me. I consider myself extremely fortunate to have traveled this path. This is why I am so appreciative of how things have worked out.

My eyes welled up with tears, which I quickly wiped away. This was definitely a day I would remember—a tale of those fortunate enough to meet each other.

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