- retired. (matildawrites) wrote in fromashesrpg, @ 2012-07-08 11:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !player: jackie, !player: les, marcus flint, matilda dukelow |
Who: Matilda Dukelow and Marcus Flint
What: Three years is forever.
Where: Diagon Alley.
When: July seventh!
Rating: Low.
Status: Closed and complete.
After a day of wandering around in Diagon Alley, Matilda found herself unable to spend more money on clothing and special parchments. She had already sent away her packages to her flat and was about to give up and head home for a nap when she realized that there were just a few more things that she could get while being out and turned to head in the direction of the Apothecary, slowly rotating the wrist that she used to shop with. There was always more shopping to be done, especially when she was feeling especially lax. It was a quick trip in and out of the store; her purchases were sent off to the house and she realized that she was hungry, but for what? With a little scratch to her head, the woman headed down the path toward Diagon again, her hands jammed into her pockets. It was a rather hot day and she was still draped in tailored black robes, the stiff black fabric catching just under her bust. With blonde curls trailing down her shoulders, she must have looked out of place in the middle of the summer son but she kept on, determined. As she turned the corner to go to her favorite tea shoppe, there was a flash of curly hair talking to someone outside of a swanky bar. Though she wanted to flip on her heel and wander off, Matilda stood there in the middle of the street, her eyes wide. He looked.. Gorgeous, perfect, no- just him, usual him and it helped her decide that she would wait in the middle of the road. When he did, she looked down and tucked some hair behind her ear, her cheeks flushing brilliantly. Fuck, he caught her and all she could do was stand. Stand or run that, it. The brilliant thing about her was that she always did the harder thing. With a little smile, Matilda raised one hand and nodded at him, trying to keep her cool, you know, if she had one left. |