Unregistered
|
Government of PanemDELILAH CYNTHELLZEHIRSixteen ∙ District Three ∙ Mechanic/Student ∙ Adriana Limacold ∙ loner ∙ competitive ∙ playful ∙ hopeful ∙ passionateAnd every time I forget, it finds me. Prepare your parting gifts and send them all right off this cliff they call life.A IS FOR APPEARANCE, MOST OF WHAT'S THERE My eyes, I think, are a dull crystal blue color that can easily channel the emotions I feel. On times where I feel even close to a bit genuinely happy, they tend to sparkle and become a bit bright. Those are what I like to call my 'childhood eyes', for I imagine that they had always been my natural color before I had any worries in the world. I'm a bit tall for my age, about 5'7". I love it, though, because I have to look down at you, and you get to look up at me. Imagine how that is with my heels on. I have dark brown hair that I rarely do anything with. From time to time I will trim it myself, but that would be about it. It is long and straight, so unlike most girls who tend to spend up to an hour doing their hair each morning, I simply run a brush through it, and then leave.B IS FOR BIRTHDAY, FEBRUARY 18TH "I was born to the seemingly loving parents of Kale Zehir, and Evette Claux. Hopefully by me saying that, it isn't too misleading. I wasn't a bastard child, don't misinterpret me there, they were married. Good God, you're not going to take bits and pieces of what I'm saying and mash it together to where it says something like, 'I am a bastard child born to two unmarried adults, which caused me to be looked down upon on society in it's whole.' ...Shoot. Wait. Can we put that off record, please? Give me a moment to collect myself here; in case you haven't noticed, I'm not very good at these things. -breathes- Okay. Back on track. C IS FOR CHILDHOOD, A JOYOUS ONE In all good honesty, I can't remember too much of my childhood. Just a moment or two from here, and there. From what I can recall, I had a great time as a younger girl. Well, besides the clothing, there was that. My mother didn't make me wear horribly uncomfortable things such as tighter, and proper attire for a girl my age, until I reached double digits in my year, but she would still make me wear those really colorful, puffy dresses with the bows tied around the middle. You know, the ones that made it practically impossible for one to sit down without fully bouncing back up. Shed always say things such as, 'I hope that a pretty girl with your face will one day live among the Capitol.' I didn't know much about them then, besides the fact that they wore really uncomfortable looking clothes and tons of stuff on their face that mommy liked. The sense of having all that power meant nothing to my six year old self. It just sounded like a nightmare to me, so I shrugged most of it off. But no matter, I still loved to wear jeans, and flimsy t-shirts most days. My parents seemed not to mind as much since I was young, and as long as I wasn't out in public or at a point where anyone could ever see me. Even if I was just playing with the neighborhood children, mum would dress me up as if I was going to go to some sort of banquet. Now that I think about it, she used to get get in quite a huff when I would come home with dirty stains on the otherwise flawless attire. Whoops. Besides that, my pictures taken over time and hung up around our mantle tell me I was very happy. I was always smiling, and laughing. Half of the time it seemed like they couldn't get me to hold still for more then a mere second. It seemed like I was just a hyper kid who always wanted to run around, never stopping, but I'm sure back then they were worried there was something wrong with me. -laughs- If I ever had a child like myself, I think I would go bat crazy. 'For heaven's sake, couldn't you just sit down for one moment?!'D IS FOR DAD, HIS PAST AND PRESENT "My dad... he's an interesting character. You know, there really was a brief time that I did enjoy his company. So don't look at everything I'm about to say as, 'Oh, she's such a hateful girl!' Really, I'm not. But I will be truthful and tell you that I have a strong distaste for my father. At times, I believe that it really wasn't his fault he turned out the way he was. No. The pressure of life, society, and your work place could have a big factor on that. From my viewpoint, it seemed that my father had really become a nasty piece of work when I reached my pre-teen years. As a Peacekeeper, it was his duty to keep the other civillians in check. I get that. But I think I truly realized how horrid his job was when I saw him out on the streets one day. I was headed home, and noticed that there was a large disturbance in the air. A group of people gathere around as screams echoed throughout the night. There in the center of the crowd, was my father, uniform and all, 'punishing' what was apparently a common thief. Yeah, if you can call beating to a pulp a fair punishment. There was no evidence. He was clearly only going by suspicion from what the man selling the products assumed. All you could hear were his cries, and how he needed to get back to his wife and children. I think I discovered the feeling of heartbreak for the first time that day. When I divulged the information and concern with my mother at the young age, she seemed to have the complete opposite reaction as I did; cold, like a stone she showed no emotion. The only thing she seemed surprised about was the fact that I had somehow managed to see it for myself. She twitched a bit when I talked about the topic, showing it was an obvious sensitive spot for her, and shoved me off, telling me not to speak about this again. I was over the age of ten, for Christ's sake. They shouldn't have to had keep the specific details of his job a secret from me! Was this a constant thing for him? Were these poor people with not so great backgrounds, possibly continue to be falsely accused? I deserved to know what is going on in my family, I was, after all, quite mature for my age, and could handle things like that. If they would have told me. Unfortunately, at my discovery upon all these, I became more aware how awful it seemed to be out in the real world. The changes of my father that were happening, became more apparent. He was no longer smiling, was never at home as much as he used to be, always looked tired, constantly came out at long hours of the night, smelling like booze and cheep perfume. And, he became a bit violent to even his family."E IS FOR EDUCATION, PUBLIC SCHOOL Going off to school for the first time at the age of six, with my little paper bag holding my lunch in my hand; that day... it's something I could never forget. It's one of the last memories I haven't forgotten, of my parents with their overwhelming joy, of how they looked at each other like the day they met; completely and utterly in love, like they could never see each other unhappy for the rest of their days because we all belonged together as a family, and of how proud they were to have me as a daughter. We all celebrated together that night, and they bought me the fanciest of meals. I had always been a competitive little thing, so I fit in right away with the right crowd. The girls liked me/wouldn't bother me because I was the sort of person who wouldn't be afraid to do something nasty like if you wronged me, or would put you in your place if you deserved it. The men liked me because I grew an immense amount of love for the sports that they played, and could carry long conversations about how disgusting the opposing teams were, and practically complimented their flawless techniques and how they were so much better then everyone else when it came to it, even if they hadn't won the game; it was almost obvious that they had been cheated out of their victory. I always loved sports. I had wanted to try out for something since I was eight, but mother had told me it was not very ladylike to do violent things such as sports. So, I usually just watch every game instead.F IS FOR FRIENDS, ER, ACQUAINTANCES Friends? Friends... I don't think I really take the time to have things such as 'friends'. Acquaintances are a better word, or, a leader, or, followers. Yeah. That sounds about right. I tend to get myself involved in certain clicks, but for the most part I am a loner. At times, it is really is nice to have certain people around. People to talk with, to have someone to walk with to certain classes, to eat with, to have them back you up on confronting someone you strongly dislike, to have a good time with, yada yada. Things like that. As for helping others with their problems, letting them listen to me vent, having 'meaningful conversations'. No. No, no. At least, in my opinion I think that whole thing is silly, and pointless. I can handle things myself. I don't need others.G IS FOR GROWING UP, FORCED TO DO As things quickly became worse with my father, the whole household seemed to follow instep. I'll have to admit that my relationship with both of my parents suffered quite a travesty. But, it's okay. Honestly, it's all that I know. I wish my past memories of being with my parents hadn't got completely washed out, and replaced with only negative thoughts and viewpoints when it comes to my home life. But, that's the way things work. There actually has been a study that says how the brain focuses on the negative side of things then on the positive side, about ten times more. I guess that's the case when it comes to me, yeah? It probably was my own fault things turned out the way they did. I shouldn't have become a bit rebellious with my parents. I shouldn't of began talking out of line, and I should have known my place. I guess the whole being slightly rebellious thing at school had rubbed off a bit too much. My father had come home, wasted out of his damn mind, and I stupidly chose to start an argument with him. I didn't understand why he acted the way he did, and why he had begun to treat mother so poorly. Do you know how you can still sometimes remember things of your past so visibly? It's like that. I can still feel the skin on my cheeks, flushed and stinging. That was the first time, you know. The first time he had ever hit me. I was so freaked out, that I went on a screaming rampage, threatening to leave and never come back. I guess it was my way of trying to make him regret what he had done, make him apologize and say he didn't want me to go. But it seemed to have the opposite affect. I was kicked out that night, unprepared, and alone. My father watched me leave with a smirk like feature on his face, as my mother kept her head low and pretended to not even be aware of what was going on, completely uninterested. Funny, the thanks I seemed to get for attempting to stick my neck out on the line for her. Father knew I couldn't make it. If I stayed out past curfew too in town, I would be returned to my parents, or punished. And everyone knew that you weren't allowed in the woods. The punishment for being caught out there was almost unspeakable. But I knew I had no choice, and that's where I went. But, naturally, it was an idiotic mistake. I wasn't prepared. I wasn't trained to protect myself. I wasn't sneaky enough to hide from predators, or the ones in charge if they ended up finding me. I barely lasted two days. I came home, a disgusted mess as I literally had to gravel for them to let me back in the house. From that point on, I was constantly locked in my room, not allowed to see the light of day if I wasn't at school, or my part-time job. I had become quiet, hurt and terrified to ever speak up or make eye contact with any of them. I was a prisoner in my own house."H IS FOR HATE, AN EMOTION OFTEN USED "Ever since that dreadful experience back at my household, I seemed to grow a burning disdain for everyone. I didn't understand why anyone would want to talk to someone like me, a disgusted disappointment, and I made sure to emotionally cut them down, piece by piece. It really didn't matter how the conversation started, that was just how it usually ended. I tended to get into hateful arguments at the drop of a hat. There were people I would find myself calm and collected around, but not many. Several classmates, although they most likely could see the difference in my dropping attitude, easily went on with their lives and my own as if nothing had really changed. I was just mainly more sensitive with people who rubbed me wrong, and mainly those who got in my way."I IS FOR INTERESTS, STUDIES AND EVENTS "As made clear previously, I absolutely adore sports. I love it. Do I think I would necessarily be any good at it? No.. probably not, honestly. Rarely ever have I actually played thm, unfortunately due to the way I was raised; I just know the basics of it. So if I tried to go out and try to be impressive, and do all these fancy things that I've seen, I would probably fail horribly and make a complete idiot out of myself. But, that's alright. I've accepted it. Sprts are probably the best thing about school. I try not to miss a single game. Mhmm. I often tease that I could only see myself marrying a man who was at least a sport's player in some point in their life, otherwise we'd have nothing to talk about! As for other interest, believe it or not, I love to read. I like being carried away to different lands, telling of different adventures. I have a habit of really putting myself in the book that I'm occupying at the time. You know, get really into it. Also, I don't love to argue about everything that I do, per say, but I will admit that I love winning each and every argument that I seem to get myself in. I'm just making a point and getting it across that thick skull of theirs, and oh, seeing their face when they lose; it's the best. Not to mention, I don't take losing well. In anything. So I guess that always makes me quite the competitive one, too."J IS FOR JOB "I really like my part-time job, truth be told. It's a place I can go almost every day and not care what I look like, what people think of me, and honestly is one of the only places that I get a sense of freedom. It's something I want to do. Se,, I'm a mechanic. 'That's not very ladylike.' Yeah, yeah, I know. But in the Distric that I live, I've tried everything else to see if I'm good at anything, and I just didn't have a connection with them as I do this. I'll let someone else fix my electronic needs, thanks. I've been working with cars for a few years now; mymain passion is just getting dirty and fixing them. I can put them together and stuff too, but I mainly like to fix the problems that others make. It makes me feel like I actually did something useful. Normally I'll just wear my jean short, and my mid-drift shirt when playing with cars. Oh, how mother hates it when I show skin. That's why it's so great that she really can't control me there. I mainly wear it because 1. I can. 2. It gets hotter then hell when you're underneath a car for so long, that you need to not be wearing something that can get youeven more sweaty. I usually have oil smudges on my face, and my hair would be tied back in a lazy ponytail, or just messily thrown down. I'm telling you, that feeling of not caring probably makes it one of my favoite looks, instead of dresses all the time."K IS FOR KISS, HER FIRST "Jeeze, this question. I'm really not sure if my first kiss should count, really. Or why you would take such an interest to it. My first kiss was when I was eight. It was when I was playing in the gardens just a bit outside of my house, with a few of the neighborhood kids. Let's see, there was Annie, Dolsephine, Mimi, Renold, Taylor, and Josh. I know, I know. 'How does she remember absolutely every kid that was there such a long time ago?' I know it seems like such unimportant details, but truth be told, I know all of the kids there that day because they were my best friends. We always did everything together. About 1/3rd of them barely had the money that made my mother content enough, so naturally she made me stop hanging out with them once I reached my double digits in school. It was kind of sad, really. But I understood. As for the rest of us, we all just kind of drifted apart from each other. Anyway, all of us where playing Hide N Go Seek, and I was It. I bloody hate being It. I always felt really anxious, and depressingly alone when I'm in that position, so naturally I was running around like a crazy person trying to find at least one of them. Even though the point of the game was for them to hide and you were meant to have a difficult time locating them, I never seemed to grasp that concept. In my mind, I felt like they were deserting me. I was yelling for them to come out as I practically ran around in circles in my heeled shoes. Looking back, it probably wasn't a good idea to run in those. Again, you can thank mother for that. Anyways, I ended up falling, and as I laid down on that grass, crying and holding my scraped knee, Josh came out of his hiding. Just to comfort me, really. He told me soothing words, and said he would make it feel better. Then, he kissed me. I was only eight, but I think that was the closest I've ever felt to the emotion of love."L IS FOR LUST, A COMMON FEELING "Lust, on the other hand, is an emotion I'm more familiar with. I tend to come in contact with this pretty often. But can you blame me? A girl with so much angst has to have a way to vent other then just simply arguing, or scowling all the time. That's when my thoughts of ripping someone's clothes off comes to mind (or, you know, actually doing it). What? Did you expect me to be shy about this topic? Nah. Not quite. I'm used to sexual frustrations, and being open about it. No big deal."M IS FOR MOTHER, WHAT BECAME "Unfortunately, as my father changed, so did my mother. An apparent fact. Her happy go lucky attitude slowly vanished from my eyes. Being put in the situation where the man she had once fallen so madly in love with changed so much, and treated her like this, my mother soon became on edge. She constantly walked around the house with her nose held high in the air, her skin as pale as a ghost, and her eyes cold. She would dismiss me every time I would even attempt to say a single word to her. She eventually got into a habit of raising her voice to me if I refused to go away, or really wanted to tell her something, even though I was so young."N IS FOR NIGHTMARES, SUBCONSCIOUS THOUGHTS "Ever since my father had become... not himself, it seems like he had to make everyone around him miserable. He's like a sinking ship. Seeing as it decided to go down, it had to bring everyone down under with it. As I've mentioned, mother became concerning and of practical no use to anyone. So, naturally, father had to start bringing his problems onto me. Ever since the day I ran away, father had begun to keep a keen eye on me. Apparently, he enjoyed my behavior. The way I avoided eye contact, and how I would squirm if anyone tried to mention anything to me. He knew how uncomfortable how I became. Apparently, though, he loved how I became weak, defenseless, and how I would no longer put up a fight when it came to anything. I haven't really told anyone about this, obviously, but that's when he began to involve me in all of that Reaping madness. He wanted me to be ready if the time ever came. I always had this wild fantasy that since he was a high rank of a Peacekeeper, I would be pardoned from the games, but unfortunately that's not how it worked. The fact that I was a child there in that district, between the ages of 12-18, it made me elligble just like everyone else. This was when he finally started to invest time into me. He began teaching me things I didn't want to learn, assigning me to tasks I didn't want to do. He treated me as an object, as if I was some thing. He wanted me to be ready for when the time came, to agree with his viewpoints, and then push me to compete to become a victor for the area. He didn't do this because he couldn't stand to see his only child viciously murdered if she were picked; no, he id this for himself. He did it so it would make him look better. Finally he would have someone he could brag about to everyone, and how that would make him just seem like everyone's envy. And the riches. Oh, but the riches would be the best part! They could finally have everything they ever dreamed of. Father was sure that he and mother could move to the Capitol, then. It was disgusting, not like I had the potential to win something like that, anyway. Although admittedly, I have gotten strong. I'll try to avoid it at all costs, however, now that you can be voted in, I am a bit terrified. Who knows if father will really go to such lengths to get me in. That's when the nightmares started. I would constantly wake up in a cold sweat, screaming, breathless. You can imagine how fun I would be to have as a roommate, ey? I could never control them, and they always came like clockwork. They'd mostly be the same dream, or at least, involving the same things. It was all about me becoming a hard shell without a soul of her own, being miserable for the rest of my life. "O IS FOR OCCUPATION, FUTURE PLANS "Truthfully, I haven't thought much about it. I haven't tried any other career paths that the other districts do, so I'm not sure if I would end up liking them very much, but right now I am truly happy at what I am doing. Cars. I feel like I could base an actual career around it." P IS FOR PERSONALITY, THE AFTER EFFECT "Although I was a happy child, due to the environment I was in when it came to the growing up, things changed. Really, I practically lost all appreciation for the world. Naturally, I still grew up proper and with etiquette; I seemed to walk around as if I had a book being balanced on my head 24/7, at least that's what I was told. Even though, let's face it, it's not like our distract is 'that' nice. Emphasis on the that. I hear a lot of junk around me constantly, and sometimes, you really just need to tune things out. Otherwise you'll get wrapped up in everything around you too frequently, and it will wear you down. I started out with that main viewpoint, but I have seemed to over do it, just a bit. Instead of just tuning things out every now and then, I tend to not pay attention to over half of the conversations that go on around me. I guess I just don't care, and I just get irked easily when it comes to wasting my breath on meaningless "hello's" and "what's up"'s. It's so boring, and it won't lead anywhere. If you have a point, then get to it. I guess that means I can come off awfully cold 3/4ths of the time, simply just because I'll probably have absolutely no interest in what you're talking about, and will most likely just stare at you, or lose attention and focus elsewhere, barely even uttering any words. But, well, I am who I am. What do you expect; a Capitol's behavior? If you happen to actually talk about something I find intriguing, however, or just simply capture my attention, I think you'll see a little bit of the the actions on when I was younger. I will smile, laugh, and talk one-hundred words a minute about the topic if I become excited. if you've grown close to me, I'm hardly cold and will shower you with affection whether we're in public or not. See, I'm not too cold, now am I? Although there are great sides to me, I unfortunately have a terrible bite. When I'm not blowing you off, or showing you love, I'm most likely to be off somewhere arguing. It's not intentional or anything, it's just if you say something that displeases me, or something that I strongly oppose, I will clench down my jaw and, most likely, begin to verbally abuse you. I tend to not let up until until I get my point across; no, I refuse. So, naturally, I seem to catch myself raising my voice a bit, or coldly slicing someone with, well let's say, my dagger of words. I also have an extremely large amount of pride, and even though I may realize halfway through the conversation that I may have been wrong, you must consider yourself lucky if you even hear me utter the words 'sorry' in the scenario, for it is as rare of an occurrence as hell freezing over. I'm also picky, and sometimes seemingly rude, and I get annoyed when people say they can relate to me, because most likely, they're bloody idiots and can't even come close."Q IS FOR QUEEN, SAY WHA "How did you know I planned on ruling one day? Everything. With my own work/marriage. Yup. That's right."R IS FOR ROMANCE, LOVE "Romance is so overrated, and even, dare I say it, a pointless emotion. I just don't get it, do you? The definition of the word 'weak' and 'love' both are that you are forced to depend on someone, and not strong in will. Do you see where I'm going with this? Unless you want to become vulnerable, and one of those annoying couples who are constantly kissing in the hallways, saying how much you adore one another, and coming up with those disgusting mushy nicknames, I'd recommend you stay away from this emotion. Bleck. Gross."S IS FOR SIXTEEN, HER AGE "Yeah, that's about right. I heard the world opens up to you once you turn eighteen, though, so I guess I can't wait for that. Not to mention I won't have to deal with the Reaping's, anymore."T IS FOR TRUST, IT'S VERY IMPORTANT "In order to have trust, you're going to need someone to put that in. If I would've answered my other questions differently; saying how I loved my closest friends, and saying how I was the biggest romantic, I would surely tell you how important this topic probably is. So, since I don't have any of that, would you classify me as having trust issues? Probably. I wouldn't be surprised if it was true. But honestly, it's not something that I stay up all night worrying about. I have other things on my mind, and really, I just don't care."U IS FOR UMBRELLA, A POINTLESS THING "I guess I kind of understand why people use them. If you're going somewhere fancy, and look all nice with your makeup and newly bought gowns and dresses, sure, you'd want to stay dry. But if you decided you wanted to go on a walk, or had to go somewhere really fast before returning home, what's the point in grabbing the daft thing? The rain is the thing I enjoy most in the world. Whenever I have a lot on my mind, and have had a terrible day, I pray to the heavens that it's raining. There's something about walking, or running, or just jumping in puddles while it's raining that makes me feel better. It's as if the rain absorbs in my skin, and it causes me to be stronger. To have the courage to face another day. I don't know, I just really like it."V IS FOR VIOLIN "What a beautiful instrument. I never have really heard any sort of instrument being played to its finest, but I assure you, that I would love to be serenaded one day."WAGON, JOING THE BANDWAGON "I don't enjoy these Hunger Games, and I truly think that if you do, you're sick. I mean, how vulgar can you get? Kids killing kids? All for the sake of pride? Believe me, I understand what it means to having a large amount of pride, but this isn't something I'd root for in a second. Some of the adults here, cheering for it, are absolutely pathetic. They don't have to deal with it, because they never had to participate, or even dread getting your name called every year. Most of them don't kno what it's like. I just hate them all for what they bring upon us."X IS FOR XANTHIPPE, ILL-TEMPERED WOMAN "I looked it up. I know it's real. I thought it was fitting and appropriate."Y IS FOR YOUTH, QUICKLY SPENT "Eighteen basically is the adult age in this world, so there's not so much to say about what I'm going to do with the rest of my youth. It's gone. We have to accept it and live the adult life doing the things that you should've done when you were younger. But, at least we had the excuse of being naive back then. I know I'm not fully grown-up, but with the way things are going, it sure does feel like it."Z IS FOR ZEHIR, HER LAST NAME "God, do I hate it. I wish it was something basic, that didn't really stick out. But, well, I've seen much worse."Don't come any closer; I bite. gracie nineteen ∙ central ∙ pm/msnI'm Gracie, annnnd I'm officially losing my hunger games rp'ing virginity with this site. Hurray! :3PS. I mess everything up because I'm lame. >.< I knows this app is in the wrong section, so I APOLOGIZE IMMENSELY to whoever reads this. My computer has been acting up and somehow it managed to get here. I don't even know. And it won't lenmme delete and fix it. Now I feel all sorts of bad. Ugh. Anyways, that's me. I try hard, but I screw the little things up. Aweh. :cTizianna sat on the edge of her bed at the motel she found herself staying at that night. It was a dusty old thing, the walls were paper thin, and she could have sworn that she saw at least three prostitutes being taken into a room just an hour earlier. Her face scrunched up minutes later as the unappealing sounds made their way through the walls and into her room, confirming her suspicions. She didn't even know why she rented the motel room. For the last week, maybe a little less, the young woman had spent practically every waking and sleeping moment with a man named Bentley. She was immediately attracted to him the second she first laid eyes on him, but she found within hours of first talking to him, that the feeling in the pit of her stomach she was feeling wasn't just lust. It was something else. The way he talked to her.. hell, the way he even looked at her was different then anything she had ever experienced before. He gave her butterflies, and those knots in her stomach that she wasn't very used to, but had heard quite a bit about it. She found herself nervous to even be around him, sometimes. Yet the minute he was separated from her side, she felt anxious, eager, wanting nothing more but to see him again right that second. Was it love? No, no, surely it wasn't. Maybe puppy love. Tizi burrowed her eyebrows in frustration at the unknowingly different beats going on in her chest that she had never been used to before. She was intimidated by him, though. Was she feeling too strongly at such an early stage of their relationship? What if he didn't feel the same? But her mind was soon put to ease at the gifts he had presented her. Tizianna's fingers played with the key he had given her, which she made into a necklace and now had it placed loosely around her neck. A key to get into his bus. Practically like a token to get into one's apartment. It caught her by surprise when he offered her such a thing, at first. She knew how band kids were. Most of them strutting around, messing with girls' heads just to get laid on a seemingly daily basis. That's one reason why she found herself nervous to be with him at first, but she just couldn't help herself. After the first day, she almost couldn't imagine how it would be to not have him next to her. She wasn't good at giving people shots so easily, but with him, it was different. Glancing at the clock, she read it to be already a little past eleven. What was she still doing in her room? Her eyes soon landed on her packed up bookbag that lay on the floor. The other gift he had given her shocked Tizi beyond belief. A trip to Paris, just the two of them. Of course the humble part inside of her had a hard time accepting the gift, almost saying how it was too expensive to be spent on someone like her. But the giddy little girl who had always wanted to go to Europe took over, and naturally, she accepted with great happiness. And now, she sat there, wondering if she made the right decision. Should she go? Letting out a deep sigh, she nodded to herself and walked over to her bag, and slid it across her shoulders. She quickly went and checked out of the room and headed towards the bus. Upon arriving there, she quietly used her key to unlock it. Making sure to lock it again as she let herself in, she stepped forward and skimmed the bus. No one seemed to be on it, which wasn't too much of a surprise for her. Eleven was early for them, she had found out, and they never seemed to come back and crash much, much later. Stepping forward a little bit more, she smiled to herself as she saw Bentley sleeping in his bunk. Lightly placing her bookbag down on the ground, she climbed into his bed, letting her body curl up against his; her head resting on his broad shoulder and a soft hand placed on his chest as she began to fall asleep. Everything about this, the two of them, just felt so right.
|
