Nova
Here's to alcohol,
His tone has her playfulness cooling like a hot brownie with sprinkle-covered ice cream being left out too long, the enjoyment turning hollow and lacking, melting to mush. Thoughts of teasing don't hold the same level of intrigue when he starts talking about uncomfortable topics like 'frying her magic' and 'death.' The usual hum of her excitement quiets to something sad and somewhat embarrassed mixed with the kernel of defensive pride at his chastisement, bristles and silent disappointment stirring at his lack of faith.
A light blush splatters the starlit freckles of her cheeks, lingering night peeking through the rising sun. She becomes very interested in the edge of her blouse, fidgeting with the sequins stitched there as she mumbles under her breath, "I don't think everyone lies." Nova specifically recalls when every guy has called her pretty or said they liked her vibrant personality. Is Vesper right? Were they all lying to her? "You don't."
Shrugging her shoulders, Nova does her best to defend her choices, even if he doesn't think they were the smartest. Her lips purse together, stubborn. "It doesn't matter. I was the one who brought it up to him." It wasn't like he'd had a chance to implement some evil or nefarious plan. He'd been too caught off guard by her request.
Finally glancing up to meet Vesper's piercing eyes, she adds softly, "He even mentioned Mateo's name. Don't you like him?" There's a pout on her lips, a pang of something tender and crying for his approval around the undertones of wounded pride.
A light blush splatters the starlit freckles of her cheeks, lingering night peeking through the rising sun. She becomes very interested in the edge of her blouse, fidgeting with the sequins stitched there as she mumbles under her breath, "I don't think everyone lies." Nova specifically recalls when every guy has called her pretty or said they liked her vibrant personality. Is Vesper right? Were they all lying to her? "You don't."
Shrugging her shoulders, Nova does her best to defend her choices, even if he doesn't think they were the smartest. Her lips purse together, stubborn. "It doesn't matter. I was the one who brought it up to him." It wasn't like he'd had a chance to implement some evil or nefarious plan. He'd been too caught off guard by her request.
Finally glancing up to meet Vesper's piercing eyes, she adds softly, "He even mentioned Mateo's name. Don't you like him?" There's a pout on her lips, a pang of something tender and crying for his approval around the undertones of wounded pride.
the rose-colored glasses of life.
