Post by dahlia goode on Feb 19, 2019 7:04:07 GMT
|dahlia keeps to herself. in ever grande city, her gated property remains forcibly quiet. bodyguards prevent paparazzi and reporters from trespassing her line of comfort; after all, she was still recovering. her bruised body is nothing compared to the restless mind that gnaws at her sleep like a steadily corroding poison.|
yet, she stays strong. she has to. and she does not do this out of obligation or for a penciled in agenda. instead, conversely, dahlia is inspired. the toxin of her suffering empowers her. a modern day mithridates, minus the paranoia. but she has good reason to be paranoid now.
and it is for this reason she invites lucas lane to her abode. the kitchen is prepared, the ingredients all neatly organized atop a quartz tabletop. sunlight filters in through the delicate white curtains of her kitchen's french windows and a slight breeze carries the day further inside.
the bodyguards would let the scientist in without much of a fuss.
"come in!" she calls for him from inside. "i've been waiting!"