tracey davis. (petiterenard) wrote in platform_zero, @ 2017-07-23 19:24:00 |
|
|||
With the knowledge that Theodore was waiting on her, Tracey surrendered her pen and journal. She pulled on her sandals and smoothed the black linen of her dress. Though she didn't mind terribly the notion of roaming about the hut in her knickers - something made endlessly easier with the screen Rabastan had made - she couldn't manage to convince herself to walk about the island in a swim top and shorts as many others on the island did. Instead, she stuck to the small collection of light summer dresses. The path to the pub was a familiar one -- moreso than she would have liked to admit. It was an easy thing to find herself at the pub. It was one of the few places worth going on the island, it seemed. Or the new bakery, but aside from a few deserts, it did not properly suit her. Before she realized it, she was at the door, pulling open the heavy wood to step inside. It was cool, and a relief against the boiling temperatures outside. It brought goosebumps to her bared skin. Her eyes drifted over the few patrons dotted about the pub until she found her friend at a table near the back. A smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she began her path towards his table. It was a smile that began to fade as the bruised cheek and black eye, the cuts on his skin. "Theodore," she breathed as she reached the table. The smile on her face had turned into one of concern. "What happened?" |