SAY SOMETHING I'M GIVING UP ON YOU
02-16-2014, 09:44 PM
She does not recognize the approach of a frame until she sees the man in front of her. Moon-colored eyes land upon him, heavy lashes blinking as she places a name to the face. Deteste. Perhaps if she had not recognized him she would have rose to her feet and tries to seduce him, to get him to fuck away the pain. It is the only coping mechanism she has, and yet her last encounter with Deteste has made her more irritated with him than willing to fuck him, quite an accomplishment considering the woman calls herself a harlot.
Childishly, she turns from him. ?Let me rot,? she tells him. Seeing his face reminds her of Jupiter?s. Seeing his face makes her feel so terribly broken. She wants to ask if he knows what happened, if he knows where she can find her lovely vixen, because right now she feels so broken. And yet, she does not, because she fears he bares the worst sort of news.
She fears he bares news of a grave, and with that she would be nothing.
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