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christmas lights log: mars & lear
Who: Mars & Lear
What: A drive
Where: Repose
When: After Thanksgiving
Warnings: TBD
Standing outside of the pizza parlor, Mars looked like a fairytale daydream of red and white. It was candy cane and just a little more wintery than the weather actually deserved, but she was pale as paper cut out against the knee-high black of her books and the murder-red splash of her cloak.
She'd been the one to insist on the drive with Lear, not that she ever had a problem with being insistent... but she hadn't canceled even with other things on her mind. Thanksgiving had been more difficult than she'd imagined, in ways that she hadn't yet explained to anyone else... especially to those in her family. If anyone understood how messed up it all was, her family would. And to be honest, Mars got the impression that she didn't even know how deep all of the sad went.
Lear could be an escape from all of this. Lear, who claimed to be unloved, and who claimed to not care in all of the ways that Mars longed to. Fuck, she longed to. It was already dark outside when Mars stepped down into the gutter with her red cloak bundled all around tight. In her hand, a white foam cup, and she sipped cherry cola.
What: A drive
Where: Repose
When: After Thanksgiving
Warnings: TBD
Standing outside of the pizza parlor, Mars looked like a fairytale daydream of red and white. It was candy cane and just a little more wintery than the weather actually deserved, but she was pale as paper cut out against the knee-high black of her books and the murder-red splash of her cloak.
She'd been the one to insist on the drive with Lear, not that she ever had a problem with being insistent... but she hadn't canceled even with other things on her mind. Thanksgiving had been more difficult than she'd imagined, in ways that she hadn't yet explained to anyone else... especially to those in her family. If anyone understood how messed up it all was, her family would. And to be honest, Mars got the impression that she didn't even know how deep all of the sad went.
Lear could be an escape from all of this. Lear, who claimed to be unloved, and who claimed to not care in all of the ways that Mars longed to. Fuck, she longed to. It was already dark outside when Mars stepped down into the gutter with her red cloak bundled all around tight. In her hand, a white foam cup, and she sipped cherry cola.