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Post by monet gemma wilson on Nov 26, 2009 16:37:26 GMT -5
 monet gemma wilson ,----------------------------------------------- it was a beautiful, november day outside, and monet was quite decided to make the most of it. of course, she was too lazy though to actually go off campus, and thus was going to be taking advantage of the day in the yale courtyard. you couldn't blame a girl that didn't have many friends, and besides that, monet had been doing quite a bit of work in her classes and was much too tired to take the walk to anywhere in new haven, even if she wanted to go home. but that was barely any time nowadays, except maybe to see her baby step-sister. she generally didn't go home without kaden though, considering the fact that when she came home without him, her father would wonder why kaden hadn't made the trip home and if he was up to anything bad. of course, he never was, but monet hated having to tell her father this and then him not even believe her in the first place. if only her family wasn't so dysfunctional, and that definitely included her, considering the fact that she really never talked to anyone, and when she did, she wasn't very kind, to say the least. the courtyard had looked fairly pleasant from her dorm window, and so she had begun to make her way there. she couldn't wait to sit on the grass and be comfortable, maybe get some reading or some homework done, considering the fact that she had much of it to do.
as she stepped onto the obviously dyed green grass, a small sigh escaped her lips. she looked so unkempt today that it was kind of a surprise. normally, monet was well put together. her hair though, now, was put up into a messy blonde bun, and her make-up was minimal. plus, the jeans tucked into uggs was not her thing, along with the slouchy sweater that clad her upper body. but she was still beautiful, and there was no denying that fact whatsoever. she plopped down onto the grass, setting her bag down beside her along with a few books from classes. this was not going to be her day, probably, but it was worth trying to make it good. ----------------------------------------------- status , finished
words , unknown
tag , blake!
outfit , here!
notes , tada!
Credit goes to NOELLEXO @ CAUTION. Please do not steal or claim this template to be yours because I will have my evil giant fat hamster hunt you down and chew your fingers off the prevent you from typing. I love it when people use my work, but please do not steal. I absolutely hate it, which is pretty obvious.
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Post by tilly on Nov 27, 2009 9:56:15 GMT -5
 HEAD DOWN AS I WATCH MY FEET[/b] take turns hitting the ground[/i][/color][/font] ------------------------------------------------------------------[/center] Blake grinned as he heard the news. His lecturer was sick, which meant that he had free lessons until he got back. Not that Blake was happy that the man was ill, but the fact that he could finally get out of the classroom, or his dorm was a relief. Blake had a social life, but it wasn't what he hoped it would be. He was one hell of a party boy back in England, yet he managed to balance school and friends pretty well. The moment he moved, his whole life just spiralled out of control. The amount of homeworks he got in a week was so ridiculously outrageous, that he barely even had time to cook his own dinner. Now though, things had finally begun to settle down. He never remembered his work load as bad, but after two months, he was finally coping.
With a large grin on his face, he walked out of the classroom, and downstairs, into the courtyard. With his books tucked under his arm, and his cellphone in his hand, he kept walking. He wasn't looking where he was going, as usual. His lame attempt at multi-tasking always failed him. Blake was already quite clumsy as a person, let alone when he wasn't looking. In England, he refused to ice skate because he knew he'd end up getting hurt, or end up falling and making a fool of himself. That was Blake, though whenever sports like football or soccer came into the picture, he was totally different. He was steady on his feet, and one hell of a player. He would've gone for a professional soccer career, but his parents wouldn't allow it, as usual.
Blake's parents had a very tight hold on his future, and his present life. He was forbidden from doing many things, such as meet his friends on a school night, think about pursuing a career in sports, moving back to England. His parents were very controlling, but it came with the fact that they were rich, and had the power to do whatever they liked to whoever they liked. Blake hated the hold their had on him, yet there wasn't much he could do about it. He knew that if they found out that he was out playing soccer in the courtyard rather than studying in the library, they would throw a fit. But Blake didn't really care. He was old enough to make his own decisions, which was why he was so proud that he was about to defy his parents. Some rebel, eh!
Blake kept walking, though as usual, he always had to trip, over something. This time, over a stack of books. He didn't actually fall to the ground, but it was a close call and instead, he dropped his books. He stood up quickly and raised his hand slightly, as if to apologize. "I'm so sorry!" He said through his thick british accent. He crouched down and picked up her books before placing them in a pile neatly. "I'm really sorry. He said, before walking off with his head down. He was blushing slightly. Well obviously, he just embarassed himself in front of one of the most prettiest girls he'd ever seen, yet he kept walking on like it was nothing.
Blake glanced at his books, and frowned. He had no recollection of ever having that book, and he sighed. He walked back to the girl with a small smile on his face. "Erm.. I think this is yours. I must have picked it up by mistake." He smirked, quite glad that he had a free lesson, otherwise, he doubted he'd be able to talk to her.
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TAG; monet!
WORDS; 722
OUTFIT; click here
LYRICS; smack into you by jon mclaughlin
NOTES; (: |
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Post by monet gemma wilson on Nov 27, 2009 11:47:41 GMT -5
monet gemma wilson ,----------------------------------------------- if only monet had a professor that was sick, considering the fact that she really didn't have the time anymore to do anything but work. she wasn't complaining, but instead she was just sick and tired of being so loaded down all the time that she couldn't even get out to do some shopping or even try to make some friends. like that would ever work anyways. monet wasn't the nicest person, made obvious by the way she treated others. today, though, she was so relaxed that she believed that if anyone came around and tried to start up a conversation with her, then she would no doubt be nice to them. she was starting to become sick and tired of being lonely at yale, which was what she was at the moment. she had her brother and a few friends, but that happened to be it. kind of sad, especially for a girl as beautiful as she is. but monet didn't know how to act. she had grown up in new haven with the same people, and so she wasn't afraid to be herself with them, since they had known her since she was a child. but at yale, her fakeness had become who she was, although deep down, she just wanted a few friends. but a girl couldn't change suddenly and be someone different. that would be seen as even more fake, especially at this prestigious school.
monet had been a soccer player in high school. she, sadly, hadn't been good enough to get a scholarship to yale, but she was happy nonetheless. she was going to get on the soccer team, one because she loved the sport, and two because it would mean she was in a close-knit group with other girls, meaning friends. she couldn't be blamed, either. monet could have been a cheerleader, but she had been involved with soccer since she was a young girl, and thus she had chosen the sport over being a girl waving pom-poms in the air and acting ditzy. she had a good head on her shoulders, made obvious by the fact that she was able to get into yale, and being a cheerleader would have ruined her reputation of it. plus, she had always known that she wanted to go to yale, and being a cheerleader wouldn't have worked out at the school anyways. so soccer had been her choice. her dad had definitely encouraged her to do so, but at the same time, it had been discouraged by her step-mother. but of course, who listens to the step-mother when your birth-father was telling you to go for it and follow your dreams?
monet had never been put on a tight leash, except for the fact that she practically was forced to go to finishing school. it made her proper though, and polite. what good that had done. it also made her slightly stuck-up. but it got her into yale, the school of her dreams. her parents hardly checked in on her, but she would go home to see them every now and then since they lived about 10 minutes away from school. they weren't helicopter parents, and with a younger child on their hands, they hardly had time for monet or kaden. it wasn't that bad though, since both of them could do what they want. kaden had gotten into drugs and partying, monet knew that, but he had made his choice to try to stay sober without the help of his parents. hell, monet didn't even think they knew. they were always disappointed though that she didn't bring home friends, but in all truth, she really only had a few, and most of them were also friends with kaden. so she generally wasn't all that watched over. it was nice, since the freedom made her want to do the right thing, instead of be a rebel. her parents knew that if they hovered, she would rebel and become a completely different girl than they had imagined. she would have gone to some artsy school instead of yale for theatre studies, if she had even been into that.
her books tumbled down from their neat stack, causing her to jump and look up from the book on broadway shows that she happened to be reading. a british voice reached her ears, and she looked up even further to see quite an attractive, model-like boy standing there and picking up his books. "no, no, it's quite all right. i shouldn't have them right in the middle of the way." she shook her head, laughing at herself slightly. her books were once again stacked neatly, but it looked as if one was missing. he probably took one on accident, but she knew he would find her and bring it back some time or another. it didn't really matter to the girl anyways. monet's eyes followed him as he walked away. of course, another chance for someone to be close to was walking away. not her fault though this time, since she had been kind, in a way. but she regretted it, since it was a gorgeous boy and not some girl that could expose her.
she looked back down at her book, getting out her pen and writing a few notes in the margins. there wasn't much in the book that was incredibly new to her, since she had grown up going to plays in new york, since new haven wasn't all that far from the city. footsteps reached her ears, and she looked up again to find the same boy walking back to where she sat. he had her book, and had realize it, she knew. monet smiled at him, standing up and brushing off the back of her jeans. she looked at the book and nodded. "yes, that is mine. um, i'm monet by the way. monet wilson." she awkwardly had a hand held out, hoping he would shake it at some point. oh, she was slightly nervous, as well. ----------------------------------------------- status , finished
words , unknown
tag , blake!
outfit , here!
notes , tada!
Credit goes to NOELLEXO @ CAUTION. Please do not steal or claim this template to be yours because I will have my evil giant fat hamster hunt you down and chew your fingers off the prevent you from typing. I love it when people use my work, but please do not steal. I absolutely hate it, which is pretty obvious.
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Post by tilly on Nov 29, 2009 5:21:07 GMT -5
it's not a silly little moment [/i][/color][/font] IT'S NOT THE STORM BEFORE THE CALM, IT ISTHE DEEP AND DYING BREATH OF THIS LOVE THAT WE'VE BEEN WORKING ON[/color][/font][/center] Blake was glad his lesson got cancelled. He was overworking himself as it was, and one thing led to another. He took school very seriously, but only because he knew that the moment he slacked, even a little, he'd regret it. Blake was smart, but only because he worked, and studied. He wasn't the type of student who was a genius in himself. He had to earn what he worked for. Nothing was ever given to him, not even materialistic things since his parents were rich. No, Blake was always very disciplined and because of it, he wasn't a snob like most people would've been if they were in his position. He had his moments, but they were few and far in between.
He couldn't say he was loved. He'd lived in New Haven since he was seventeen and although he made friends easily, he didn't have many of them. He was British, and he guessed that it set him a little apart. He had different views, beliefs, ideas. And school always took up most of his time. Also, he was always quite the commitment phobe, not only in relationships, but in friendships also. Blake hated disappointment, so much that he was actually afraid of it. He'd been disappointed before, to the point where he was a fraction away from moving back to England. He wanted to, but he wouldn't, not now. He had two years left until he finished his course completely, and he was done. He couldn't wait.
Blake loved Yale, obviously. Who wouldn't? But England was his home, and even his parents were a little shocked when he didn't give them the reaction they were expecting. Normally, when one was leaving, and far away, they would throw a fit. Blake seemed to be alright with it. He wasn't, of course. He was leaving everything he knew and loved. His girlfriend, his best friends, his family - some of them anyway, and his hometown. It wasn't easy for him, but he managed. Even though his idea of 'managing' was smoking so much hash that he could barely see what's in front of him. That was his release, and it was why he'd been to rehab so many times. Not many people knew about it, it was meant to be kept secret. Meant to be.
Blake was extremely clumsy, and even though he embarassed himself most of the time, it did come in handy. It created a window of opportunity, much like today. Of course, he blushed and with that, embarassed himself even more, though he was able to talk to the girl in front of him, and that was quite a reward in itself. The girl was undeniably beautiful, and he was almost blown away by her. He took her hand and smiled softly. "I'm Blake King." He shook her hand and gazed at her. "It's nice to meet you. And sorry again." He chuckled, and scratched the back of his neck. There he was, getting a little shy. It wasn't like him, but it did happen, sometimes.
Blake looked around briefly and smiled. She seemed to be alone, and he didn't really have anywhere to be either. He found that it would be slightly weird if he just sat down next to her and started conversation but, she seemed like a fairly nice person. "You're a student here, right?" He asked, suddenly realizing how stupid he must have sounded. Well, of course she was a student. She looked far too young to be a professor and he didn't think visitors would have been in Ugg boots and a sweater. He'd seen people walk around the place, and they looked as though they were going to some dance. Blake was never too fussy with looks, especially with what he wore everyday to class. He could dress up, and well, but it normally consisted of a traditional black suit, and on special occasions.
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TAG; monet!
WORDS; 772
OUTFIT; click here
LYRICS; smack into you by jon mclaughlin
NOTES; (: |
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Post by monet gemma wilson on Nov 29, 2009 15:40:59 GMT -5
monet gemma wilson ,----------------------------------------------- In a sense, Monet was lucky to not be in such a demanding major as some other people. Majors like science and law just seemed so complicated to her. While in her major, Monet was able to have flexibility. Of course, it was a lot of studying of theatre, which the girl had already known a ton about, considering it had been her forte in high school. She was one of those theatre kids, but at her high school, it was nothing that would make a person considered a loser. As a matter of fact, theatre was the most prestigious thing to do there, and you would be loved as a person if you did so. So of course, Monet was actually well liked, in a sense. But she had always been sheltered. Her work was just recently catching up to her, and so she was starting to get little sleep and it was obvious. There were dark circles under her eyes, which she had unsuccessfully tried to cover up, as well as the fact that she now always looked disheveled. Finals were coming up soon, and she was less than enthusiastic about it. Along with that, Yale was putting on a performance sometime soon, and that was going to be hectic as well. Especially dress rehearsals and the like.
Well, Blake had friends, at least. Now Monet, on the other hand, was definitely not loved. She never felt the love coming from anyone on campus, as well as having the minimum number of friends possible. About one, total, if you didn't count her brother. And along with that, it wasn't even really her friend, more like her brothers. This annoyed her, but she would never show how lonely she was, because that would be the downfall of the girl. You would think that a gorgeous girl like her would have more friends, but of course, she didn't. It was always the case. Either that girl had a bunch of friends because she was gorgeous, or she just was not a nice girl. Not uncommon, and definitely not in Monet's life. She just wished there were more people at Yale that she knew. Of course, she was only a freshman, and thus new, but for god's sake, it was November already and she had yet to even talk to people much. Plus, Monet hardly ever went into New Haven to find her old friends, and most of them had gone off to other colleges, as well. New York sometimes held things for her, but in all truth, she didn't ever make it there either. So Monet was definitely not loved.
Yale. It was a beautiful school, but the beauty was nothing if one hardly had anyone to share it with. This was an odd thing for someone to say, but Monet missed high school. She missed the small environment of the finishing school she had went to and how she had known everyone since she was little. Yale was huge, in her eyes. There were so many people everywhere, and that bothered her as well. At least in high school, she could have talked to any of the other people there, and they would respond because they knew who she was. Here, if she wanted to talk to a random person, they would just give her an odd look and walk off. She had tried it before, but never had again. The chance never came up for her to really talk to anyone, and during classes she was focused. She wanted to do well, better than most, and thus she spent most of her time working in class. Even when they had the time to speak, she chose not to. It was too hard for her, because almost any word that came out of her mouth could sound snarky. It wasn't that she meant for it to sound like that, it was just the tone she had grown so accustomed to using.
Let's just say that Monet was thankful for the window of opportunity. Not only because it gave her something else to do other than work, but also because it meant she had the chance to talk to someone without being given a weird look along with being avoided. She was trying her hardest not to sound mean, and it came out awkward, but she was a lot happier with that tone than the tone that always pushed everyone away. She was sick of being a terrible person, but that was still something very hard to change, sadly. "Nice to meet you as well, Blake King." A smile played at the edges of her lips, and she looked back at him. Or up at him, considering he was much taller than she was. "No really, it is absolutely no problem. Plus, you did get me out of doing homework in a way." A bubble of laughter was heard, and she realized that she was flirting. It wasn't like her, the same as it wasn't like him to be shy. She hadn't flirted with anyone in so long that it felt like a foreign type of language on her tongue. And then she realized something else. Her tone was effortlessly nice, she wasn't being guarded or mean. Now this, this was different.
It wasn't uncommon for her to be alone. If he had known this, it probably wouldn't have been much of a surprise. She watched him look around, doing the same herself after a second or two, wondering if there was anything interesting going on. It might have been slightly weird, but she definitely would not have minded. A friend would be the best thing right now. The fact that he thought she was a nice person would have made her laugh out loud. She had been told many times that she wasn't so, but deep down, she really was. No matter what, she really enjoyed it. "Yeah, I'm a freshman in the theatre studies program. Yourself?" It wasn't a stupid question, although kind of funny considering the fact that he had just picked up a book of hers and then brought if back. But it was a good starting question in getting to know someone, so she of course didn't blame him. She sat down, crossing her legs and waiting for him to sit down beside or across from her. Her legs hurt at the moment, although she hadn't any idea why, but sitting down just seemed like a good option. ----------------------------------------------- status , finished
words , 1147
tag , blake!
outfit , here!
notes , tada!
Credit goes to NOELLEXO @ CAUTION. Please do not steal or claim this template to be yours because I will have my evil giant fat hamster hunt you down and chew your fingers off the prevent you from typing. I love it when people use my work, but please do not steal. I absolutely hate it, which is pretty obvious.
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Post by tilly on Dec 1, 2009 15:59:57 GMT -5
this is the deep and [/i][/color][/font] AND DYING BREATH OF THIS LOVE THAT WE'VE BEEN WORKING ON[/color][/font][/center] Blake was never much of an Arts student. He was hopeless at art, at acting, at anything that lacked numbers and statistics. Music on the other hand, it was probably one of the things he was actually able to do, that and photography. He adored both, and he played the piano with such grace, his parents would sometimes beg him to play for them. Blake didn't like to boast about it much, and not many people knew he could play, and so well. He had been practising since he was about six or seven. His parents were very into the arts, as were his siblings. He was like the ugly duckling, except for music and literature. That was it. His parents, well they were brilliant at painting, music, dance - almost the opposite of Blake.
Blake might have been close to his friends, and he might have had a few, but he wasn't as open as he wished. There was always some inner conflict with him. He wanted to be one way, but never had enough discipline to follow through with his wishes. He always wanted to be more understanding, and be able to give good advice, but the opportunity hardly ever came around and he wasn't exactly good at helping people when it came to personal conflicts. With money, he helped people, a lot but with giving advice? He was simply hopeless and he was quite aware of that, which was why he kept quiet, or did his best to make someone smile.
Blake was also finding it quite hard at Yale. There was such a difference from England to the new school that it was still quite unbelievable, even in his third year there. England was small compared to the US, and the schools hardly ever catered for more than one hundred and fifty students per grade. Blake had one hundred students in his, with four small classes of about twenty five people. The school itself wasn't that big either. Yale, on the other hand, was a palace compared to what he was used to. It was beautifully structured, and as an engineer, he was forced to appreciate it. There was quite a lot to admire, especially the Engineering block. Blake was in awe the first time he saw it. It was more awe-inspiring as he stood in front of it, compared to actually seeing it in the pictures. It was unbelievable.
Blake was never the judgmental type. Had there been rumours circulating about a specific person, he wouldn't pay much attention. He had been targeted by nosy-parkers back in England, and it wasn't something he appreciated. The rumours had been, obviously, false and he was forced to do whatever he could to erase the damage they had done to his reputation. He knew that believing what everyone said meant that every boy was seeing about seven different girls in one go, about every single girl in the school was pregnant, every boy was a manwhore, and every girl a prostitute. The rumours were always predictable, and sometimes, very off-base. Blake never understood why they were even spread, so he never judged Monet upon meeting her. She actually seemed fairly nice. Something he wasn't particularly surprised about. He liked to judge people for himself, and not from others' point of view.
Blake grinned. "I hope that's a good thing." He said politely. "I don't want to be a distraction." He added. He didn't want tobe responsible for her not doing her homework. He knew that it would be hell for him, since the pile-up of homework he'd had in the past two weeks was ridiculous. He knew he wouldn't catch up if he put off his work. He wondered if Monet was the same. Blake never figured to ask anyone else if they were coping. He kept to himself a lot that year. It was quite strange of him since Blake was normally the bubbly, outgoing type. He hardly ever kept to himself and was normally out with his friends, having a beer or hooking up with some girl. He guessed some things changed, drastically.
Blake ran a hand through his hair and listened. Theatre? Wow. He was definitely impressed, especially since he couldn't act to save his life. "That's brilliant." He grinned. "Engineering." He said, attempting a smile. He wasn't quite ecstatic about the major he chose and sometimes, it showed. He couldn't wait to graduate. He knew that working would be far different than studying, and things would be so much better. Also, he could work back in England. Blake couldn't wait to get back home to where he really belonged. His friends were waiting, as were the rest of his family. Today, now, with Monet, was the first time he felt 'welcomed' in a long time since he came to Yale. He wasn't quite sure why, but he guessed it was probably because he was always cooped inside, trying to finish his work off and study. Blake hated it. He wasn't the kind of person who stayed inside. He was the exact opposite and staying in always killed his buzz.
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TAG; Monet!
WORDS; 1005
OUTFIT; click here
LYRICS; slow dancing in a burning room
NOTES; (: |
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Post by monet gemma wilson on Dec 6, 2009 19:08:15 GMT -5
monet gemma wilson ,----------------------------------------------- Considering the fact that he was terrible at acting and the arts, and she was terrible at anything math and science related, then these two could help each other out. Tutoring or something of the sort could work, or they would just be able to help each other out for fun, in a sense. Monet wouldn't have minded hanging out with the gorgeous boy, even if it meant him helping her with possibly the most boring subject that she could think of. She hated anything dealing with the maths and the sciences, considering the fact that she always did terribly at them and possibly failed. Even in majoring in theater studies, she still had to take math and science classes just to be well rounded, as they would like to say. The girl hated it, and there were times in class that she would fall asleep or become incredibly bored within fifteen minutes.
Monet, on the other hand, was wonderful with advice. All of her old friends at the school before Yale had always come to her when they had an issue, whether it be one with their parents or one with their boyfriend/girlfriend. She, in turn, had never minded giving it, as it made her seem like the good person and of course, someone who knew what to do in every situation. In truth, she actually did know what to do in any situation, as she had generally been through most of them. Except for anything dealing with boys. With that, she had to think as if she was that girl and she had to imagine what she was feeling. Acting always came in handy with this, as a person had to fully immerse themself within a character and know the whole backstory as well as knowing what that character would be feeling. So let's just start calling Monet Dr. Phil, although not quite as ridiculous and overrated.
Yale could be too much for the person who had not been practically raised for the school. The finishing school that Monet had went to had practically prepared every student for the top college in the country, making them do as much work as possible and sometimes even more than was possible. But yet, Monet had been hit with a shock when she came to Yale, as it had been even more work than she had imagined. Not more work, actually, rather the quality of the work was much harder than she had imagined. Monet had felt the same way that Blake had when she first saw the theater building along with the actual stage and theater inside of it. Plus, the set workshop was amazing to her and she knew that if she wanted to, she could spend hours inside of there painting and working on any set that was in process, no matter what show it was for.
Blake was lucky that he wasn't judgmental. If he had been, then of course he would have avoided Monet, considering she looked like a loner as well as the look on her face didn't exactly look the nicest when she had been sitting there all by herself. Thankfully, though, he had not been and actually had started a conversation with her after knocking down her books. She could have been mean and yelled obscene things at him, but it was finally time for her to at least try to make someone a friend of hers, or else she was going to end up lonely for the rest of her life, probably. No one could fall in love with a mean girl like her unless she gave being nice a chance and actually went for it. That was her plan at the current moment, and honestly, she was kind of hoping this fellow would fall in love with her. Not that she was in love with him, but it would just be nice to have someone that loves you unconditionally.
She shook her head, laughing softly. "Of course it's a good thing. I'd rather not be doing this homework right now, although it might come back to bite me in the butt a little later." He didn't even have to ask her, because Monet knew how to make conversation and talk about things like that. She was probably the one who would understand the most as to his not really socializing that year. Monet was the same way, but for different reasons, of course. It seemed that her reputation had preceded her, ending up in most staying away from the apparently bitchy girl instead of actually giving her a chance. Many people had already looked up the other people in the freshman class before they had gotten to Yale, and thus knew their backstory and their attitude, unfortunately for Monet. She was trying to change, she really was, but it was much easier said than done. The girl was just taking it one step at a time. She was just waiting for someone to discover her secret and the reason as to why she was so mean.
When he told her that his major was engineering, her eyebrows shot up slightly. "Me? Brilliant? It appears to me as if you are the brilliant one here, considering you are doing something that I could never even attempt to do. I am absolutely god-awful at math. She had a smile on her face, her eyes slightly downcast because of the fact that not being able to do much math was kind of embarrassing. He really shouldn't have been dis-content with his major, as it was really quite impressing. Monet was enamored with theater, and so she was able to sound enthusiastic about it at all times. She, as well, also felt welcomed. He was the first person to actually strike up a small conversation with her and actually attempt to get to know her. And she seriously appreciated it more than he could ever imagine. "So, where are you from, considering that you do have an accent?" A single eyebrow raised, she looked over at him. She was flirting, in a sense, but it wasn't exactly the most noticeable thing. Small-talk was nice to her at the moment, and she was more than ready to get to know this stranger. ----------------------------------------------- status , finished
words , 1088
tag , blake!
outfit , here!
notes , tada!
Credit goes to NOELLEXO @ CAUTION. Please do not steal or claim this template to be yours because I will have my evil giant fat hamster hunt you down and chew your fingers off the prevent you from typing. I love it when people use my work, but please do not steal. I absolutely hate it, which is pretty obvious.
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