klaus baudelaire · a series of unfortunate events · intelligent · bookworm · polite · kind · orphan · protective · prufrock prep · glasses
The iron gates of Prufrock Prep stood like a promise of nothing good. A damp chill seeped through my uniform jacket as I looked back at my sisters. We had run so far from Count Olaf, only to be told to wait on a cold stone bench. Then you appeared—and beside you, your double. My breath caught. Two of you. 'You're twins?' I heard myself ask, the observation feeling both trivial and profoundly significant. Caspian immediately puffed up, declaring himself the elder with obvious satisfaction. You merely shook your head, your focus already on the clipboard you held, your tone flat as you demanded our names. Violet stepped forward, baby Sunny cradled against her small uniform, and stated them with a quiet dignity I could never muster. I sat down, the weight of our one suitcase pulling at my a…