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paper cuts scatter lithe fingers, dried blood beneath nails. skin spit across lower lip —— evidence of previous work.
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feet remain planted for a few moments before she finds somewhere to take a seat. brows pinching together as she studies him. “start explaining. now.”
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brows furrow, a step taken backward as she stares at the male before her. “you should probably give that explanation then.”
her heart pounds in her chest and she can only stare for a few moments.
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her breath catches and her eyes go wide as she peers around him at the flame shooting outward. she’s quiet for a few moments before her gaze lands on his face. “holy . . .” she trails off, trying to wrap her head around what just happened.
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a small shrug is given as her arms cross over herself loosely. “i will.” she replies simply.
there’s a dull throb in her cheek, but it’s manageable. she’ll be able to take care of it herself until it heals —— it certainly wouldn’t be the first time she &&.
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𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝔫𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔤𝔦𝔞. retweeted
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𝐥͟𝐢͟𝐤͟𝐞͟ this tweet if interested in being considered for a 𝐦͟𝐚͟𝐢͟𝐧͟. this enables me to tag you in starters, media, quotes, etc. and vice versa. platonic connection. mutuals only.
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𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝔫𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔤𝔦𝔞. retweeted
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𝐥͟𝐢͟𝐤͟𝐞͟ this tweet if interested in developing a 𝐫͟𝐨͟𝐦͟𝐚͟𝐧͟𝐭͟𝐢͟𝐜͟ connection between our muses. requires chemistry. muses and muns must be 18+. mutuals only.
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𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝔫𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔤𝔦𝔞. retweeted
ㅤ
ㅤ ࣪𖤐・𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 — 𝐈𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐧
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ┆ 𝓗𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 ┆ 𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⤿ㅤ𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟɪᴇʀ 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐧. ⚔ㅤ⤾
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she takes in a heavy breath, lips parting for a moment but no words come out. “i’m not so sure that makes it much better . . . i don’t think he’d be very proud.”
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she nods, moving to stand. hands wiping on her jeans —— the blood on her fingertips has already dried but she doesn’t like to look at it. “i know what you mean.”
“don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of.” she murmurs with another nod. hands tucking into &&.
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adelia offers a pitiful smile, reaching out to carefully take the mug. “it’s just one of those days. grief is . . . a hard thing sometimes.”
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she falls quiet for a few moments, her gaze falling to her hands. however, a faint laugh soon escapes her. “yeah . . . you seem like the type.” she jokes.
her eyes land on the man again and she offers a small smile. “thank you . . . again.”
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