“Lesson learned: Avoid wearing cashmere on drug busts,” Vika stated as she glared as the culprit of her annoyance- a short navy dress and the red staining the white collar.
“Did wewe try hydrogen peroxide?” a voice behind her suggested. Of course the girl recognized his mocking London accent. She attempted to sound miffed at his sneaking up on her unpronounced, but she could do little about the blush that darkened her cheeks.
“What are wewe doing in a lady’s bedroom?” she demanded from him, hoping to fluster him. But when she spun to face him, he was leaning leisurely in the doorway unfazed.
“I’m not technically in your room,” he pointed out. Vika rolled her eyes at the Brit, though she could not avoid noticing the tired slump of the his posture, the dark circles beneath his eyes that she had missed in her initial irritation.
Realizing that she had stares a moment too long at him, Vika turned back to the blemished dress lying on her damask comforter. “That was not an answer to the posed question.” When no response came, she decided she was done with Nic’s antagonizing.
“Why are wewe here?” she persisted, putting force behind her words. “Should wewe not be out pursuing that Wiccan girl wewe are so fond of? I am sure wewe would have a much better time-” When she turned to face him here, she was startled to find herself inches from his chest.
So surprised was Vika that she stumbled back a step and Lost her balance. Her hand shot out to steady herself and ended up grabbing a thick, muscular arm. the end result was the girl on her back on the bed, Nic’s face inches from hers. Having caught himself, he was leaning over her with a hands braced on either side of her head. Their bodies were so close that Vika could feel the warmth emitting from the fire-caster, smell his radiance of leather, sweat, and smoke.
Neither moved for a moment, which was long enough for her to make out finer details of the boy’s fine, chiseled, handsome, weary features. His eyes were an even darker shade of blue that the dress Vika had fallen on. Nic opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. For a moment his guard fell, and she saw a vulnerability in the shadows of his sunken cheeks, in the lack of light in his eyes, as if the haughty, confident spark that usually lived there had been evicted.
It occurred to Vika that perhaps he may of come to ask something of her. At this point, she was ready to do anything for him with few exceptions.
But as soon as it has appeared, the vulnerability vanished. Nic pushed himself up with a muttered apology. Vika sat up, ready to reassure him that he need not apologize, that she would listen to whatever it was that he had come to tell her.
But kwa the time Vik had caught her breath, Nic had exited from her room. She fell back on the kitanda with a defeated groan, her mind far too occupied to worry about her ruined cashmere dress.
“Did wewe try hydrogen peroxide?” a voice behind her suggested. Of course the girl recognized his mocking London accent. She attempted to sound miffed at his sneaking up on her unpronounced, but she could do little about the blush that darkened her cheeks.
“What are wewe doing in a lady’s bedroom?” she demanded from him, hoping to fluster him. But when she spun to face him, he was leaning leisurely in the doorway unfazed.
“I’m not technically in your room,” he pointed out. Vika rolled her eyes at the Brit, though she could not avoid noticing the tired slump of the his posture, the dark circles beneath his eyes that she had missed in her initial irritation.
Realizing that she had stares a moment too long at him, Vika turned back to the blemished dress lying on her damask comforter. “That was not an answer to the posed question.” When no response came, she decided she was done with Nic’s antagonizing.
“Why are wewe here?” she persisted, putting force behind her words. “Should wewe not be out pursuing that Wiccan girl wewe are so fond of? I am sure wewe would have a much better time-” When she turned to face him here, she was startled to find herself inches from his chest.
So surprised was Vika that she stumbled back a step and Lost her balance. Her hand shot out to steady herself and ended up grabbing a thick, muscular arm. the end result was the girl on her back on the bed, Nic’s face inches from hers. Having caught himself, he was leaning over her with a hands braced on either side of her head. Their bodies were so close that Vika could feel the warmth emitting from the fire-caster, smell his radiance of leather, sweat, and smoke.
Neither moved for a moment, which was long enough for her to make out finer details of the boy’s fine, chiseled, handsome, weary features. His eyes were an even darker shade of blue that the dress Vika had fallen on. Nic opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. For a moment his guard fell, and she saw a vulnerability in the shadows of his sunken cheeks, in the lack of light in his eyes, as if the haughty, confident spark that usually lived there had been evicted.
It occurred to Vika that perhaps he may of come to ask something of her. At this point, she was ready to do anything for him with few exceptions.
But as soon as it has appeared, the vulnerability vanished. Nic pushed himself up with a muttered apology. Vika sat up, ready to reassure him that he need not apologize, that she would listen to whatever it was that he had come to tell her.
But kwa the time Vik had caught her breath, Nic had exited from her room. She fell back on the kitanda with a defeated groan, her mind far too occupied to worry about her ruined cashmere dress.
*Shrugs* Cheer, cry, be happy, sad, angry, dunno.
Too much drama, feelings feelings feelings, this is all gonna be fluff, so if wewe need the point of this article, skip to the bottom.
upendo wewe guys, really do, but this drama is toooooo much.
So, me and my OC's are going on a... vacation.
wewe can still post on my wall, IM, kasha pokezi me, ect.
Just takin' a break from the club.
And if I'm a depressed emo faggot to you, not your fault. Stuff has happened, I should be fine in a bit.
Anyways,
Fly on~
-Raven, gone.
"So you're just going to let him leave to D.C.?" Lexi stared at her older brother.
"Yup."
"You're stupid! That's crazy wewe idiot! He'll get himself killed!"
"No he won't."
"Yes he will Jaime! He'll kill the President, be banned from the Military and THEN die!" Lexi folded her arms across her chest.
"He won't kill the President Lexi, stop daydreaming."
"Then wewe obviously don't know him."
"Actually I do, but wewe don't. Dad is going to D.C. for a meeting with House of Representatives, and the President to talk about what was stolen from the Navy." Jaime put his hands in his pockets, staring and his little sister.
"And what makes wewe think he won't go crazy?"
"Nudge will keep him under control. Trust me." Lexi almost dropped the phone that was in her hand.
"Nudge? I thought she retired."
"Nope, and Jack will be with her. Things will be fine." Jaime opened his wings an soared upwards. "You coming nyumbani au what?" Lexi sighed and followed him.
"Yeah."
"Yup."
"You're stupid! That's crazy wewe idiot! He'll get himself killed!"
"No he won't."
"Yes he will Jaime! He'll kill the President, be banned from the Military and THEN die!" Lexi folded her arms across her chest.
"He won't kill the President Lexi, stop daydreaming."
"Then wewe obviously don't know him."
"Actually I do, but wewe don't. Dad is going to D.C. for a meeting with House of Representatives, and the President to talk about what was stolen from the Navy." Jaime put his hands in his pockets, staring and his little sister.
"And what makes wewe think he won't go crazy?"
"Nudge will keep him under control. Trust me." Lexi almost dropped the phone that was in her hand.
"Nudge? I thought she retired."
"Nope, and Jack will be with her. Things will be fine." Jaime opened his wings an soared upwards. "You coming nyumbani au what?" Lexi sighed and followed him.
"Yeah."