tell_a_tale_mod (![]() ![]() @ 2007-08-24 19:53:00 |
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Original poster: crustacea
There were times she felt she were the only sane person on the planet, and there were times when she wished she were the only person on the planet. This wasn’t one of those days. How could it be? It was nearly impossible for Charlotte to be in a sour mood when she just purchased a book, and in this case she had just bought not one, but three. There might even have been a faint smile upon her lips as she walked though the city of Boston, the Border’s bad swaying in her hands as she maneuvered through the small crowd of people that had built up. Her day had been planned. She would go home, make a nice cup of tea, read a book, and then perhaps practice the violin while trying to compose something for it. She didn’t plan for this to happen. She had nearly come to a stoplight when a familiar face came into view. It wasn’t just any face, mind you. The face had been one she had caressed. A face she had quickly fallen for. A face that both angered and hurt her every time it came into her mind. She felt her stomach give a jolt, and she stopped to watch him through the crowd. It wasn’t until the crowd thinned that she saw what he was doing. She froze over, and her blood first boiled before running cold. His hand was cupped over someone’s rump, and their hand was draped over his shoulders. While he had previously been looking to the side, he was now lip locked with this female, who was giggling and flushing under the kiss. Charlotte proceeded to stare at Jaq and the unknown girl before a loud crash boomed behind her, and she turned to look. When she turned back around, her eyes met his, and she simply stared. She dare not show any emotion as he grabbed the girl’s hand and bustled pass Charlotte, a hand lightly drifting over her wrist as he passed her. Charlotte’s hand clutched to her bag tightly, and she dare not follow him with her gaze as he and several people went to go and see what the loud noise was. Charlotte had long since lost all interest, and was simply hell bent on going home. She only stopped her fast pace when the signs commanded it, and not once did she turn to see if he was following her. When she finally did get into her apartment, she went inside. She grabbed a Frank Sinatra CD. She let him sing her into a state of calmness, ignoring the fact that her once dry cheeks were now wet and that her eyes burned. She was over him. She didn’t need him. |