The Nightingale
She/her
Twenty four
November 11
Slateport
Heterosexual
Assistant
executive
Defiance in her flesh, her blood, her bones; written on her soul
Melodic [elijah]
POSTED ON Apr 7, 2020 8:09:32 GMT
[attr="class","isratalk"] Her eyes are still on him when he find her's. Nothing about the familiarity makes her watch him so closely, the interest he's gained is why she can't turn away from him entirely. Something had lingered after their initial meeting, passing by each other too quickly to determine what it was. She watches him now, looking for an inkling, and idea to pave the way. She laughs because he says not to, on purpose, antagonistic in a way. Habit. The click of heels shifts to follow him, his offer seems reasonable. He claims a room and Isra fishes her card from her bag. "Knock yourself out."The small piece of plastic slips into his pocket, because Isra breaks boundaries like the glass in a picture frame. Again and again until the picture beneath the shards is in as many pieces as it's covering and all that's left to be found is what she wants most, the truth beneath the shine. Complete with all its little flaws. There's a whistle on her lips, slipping in between the thrumming base. She can feel it in her chest, a certain sort of delight from it. Isra doesn't wait for him, eyes set on room number five. elijah gardner[newclass=.isratalk b]color: #8e4e5d;[/newclass]
|
|