Post by Lyn Medvesek on Jul 4, 2008 14:09:01 GMT -5
Slamming open the door, fingers entangling themselves into her short red hair as she came to pass the obstacle, the girl lethargically trudged forward, and plopped down into the closest available seat, hefting her light weight rucksack over the shoulder of her chair with exaggerated movement, as her chest heaved recovering from speed walking from the library of the school to the bar.
The surprise meeting with a brainless oaf of a student, whom she never caught the name of, as he spewed how she should have shown some courtesy giving her his before saying anything to him at all. Lyn rolled her eyes as the past retorts came shuffling back into her head, repeating over nad over like a painful broken record. She rested her heavy head into her left palm as it sat erect, elbow planted firmly onto the dappled tabletop, as a sigh escaped her, calm enough now to find the want and need to close her eyes, if just for a little while.
His voice echoed with a hurtful resonence. The gouging ideal was that yeah, maybe the kid had a point, but in most ways he seemed to contridicting himself excrutiatingly to the point where she even had to doubly question herself wether he was infact alright.
Roughing up her strands of tuscan tile hair, Lyn aimlessly reached behind her reefing out a mickey of vodka, and a shot glass. Something she keenly never left home without, despite the unseemly damage it might have done to a stolen book on her way home. It was worth the risk, after all if you knew magic, or even had a blow dryer, the book wasn't ever completely lost.
With a quick effortless flick, effortless because this was as natural to her as breathing nowadays, in one fell swoop the drink was already splayed upon her tongue, digging in, and mating with her bloodstream.
A grin creased her lips, it was almost perfect. The day had regained its potential it seemed, and with being so close to home, there wasn't a rush to get there.
The surprise meeting with a brainless oaf of a student, whom she never caught the name of, as he spewed how she should have shown some courtesy giving her his before saying anything to him at all. Lyn rolled her eyes as the past retorts came shuffling back into her head, repeating over nad over like a painful broken record. She rested her heavy head into her left palm as it sat erect, elbow planted firmly onto the dappled tabletop, as a sigh escaped her, calm enough now to find the want and need to close her eyes, if just for a little while.
His voice echoed with a hurtful resonence. The gouging ideal was that yeah, maybe the kid had a point, but in most ways he seemed to contridicting himself excrutiatingly to the point where she even had to doubly question herself wether he was infact alright.
Roughing up her strands of tuscan tile hair, Lyn aimlessly reached behind her reefing out a mickey of vodka, and a shot glass. Something she keenly never left home without, despite the unseemly damage it might have done to a stolen book on her way home. It was worth the risk, after all if you knew magic, or even had a blow dryer, the book wasn't ever completely lost.
With a quick effortless flick, effortless because this was as natural to her as breathing nowadays, in one fell swoop the drink was already splayed upon her tongue, digging in, and mating with her bloodstream.
A grin creased her lips, it was almost perfect. The day had regained its potential it seemed, and with being so close to home, there wasn't a rush to get there.