Okay here is where we left off [/font]
Brynn stood in silence, shock shown across her face. Her eyes watered, but she quickly wiped it away with a swipe of her hand. Her eyeliner made a streak across her cheek. Her knees felt weak, making her sit back down at the foot of the bed as she took in a deep breath. "You're immortal?" she asked, looking up at him with slightly terrified eyes. She felt like she was in a Twilight, accept hungover. "So does that mean... I...?" She couldn't say it, but she knew it must have been true. Even though she was quite in the dark about all of this, she could take a hint and use her context clues. Brynn shook her head slowly, feeling dizzier than she ever remembered... Her eyes found the window, and she saw the huge iron gate miles away, completely going around the perimeter... What the hell did she get involved in? -------- Patrick looked at her book and frowned, reading every word over and over.... His heart sank a little. It was true... He was an ass, but he didn't realize this wasn't a game to her anymore. For years, they went back and forth like a cat and mouse, and it was all fun. Sometimes they fought, but it usually ended before it started, for they didn't let eachother get to the other's emotions. "Abby," he sighed after a moment, finally looking up from the flower and it's note. "I... I'm not the person you need to be writing things like this about." He frowned and closed it, placing it back on the bench before walking over to her. "I'm a jerk. I know that... Which is why you needn't put much faith in me. You've got many men who would deserve you more than I." -------- *Click, click, click, click...." The sound of Scarlet's heels were fierce and defiant, each *click* sounding with importance. Her vibrant red hair gleamed against her fair skin, curled away from her face and down her shoulders, pinned back on one side. Her cheeks has a hint of pink, her eyes rimmed with winged eyeliner, and her lips were ruby red... As walked down the hall from the main entrance, a guard behind her with her bags, the conversation fell from the room. Most of the men in the room appreciated her figure, which was much curvier than most in the hip and bust area, yet her tiny waist was accentuated by her royal blue mini dress that hung at her knees and flowed as she walked. She was eighteen, but had an air about her that made her seem much older. Her legs were striking as she maintained perfect balance in her black suede pumps that rapped around her ankles, even as she walked up the staircase toward John Townsend's wing of the castle. They led her to his office while a messenger went to alert him of her presence, and she went to stand my the window, looking at the view of her new home.
Brynn stood in silence, shock shown across her face. Her eyes watered, but she quickly wiped it away with a swipe of her hand. Her eyeliner made a streak across her cheek. Her knees felt weak, making her sit back down at the foot of the bed as she took in a deep breath. "You're immortal?" she asked, looking up at him with slightly terrified eyes. She felt like she was in a Twilight, accept hungover. "So does that mean... I...?" She couldn't say it, but she knew it must have been true. Even though she was quite in the dark about all of this, she could take a hint and use her context clues. Brynn shook her head slowly, feeling dizzier than she ever remembered... Her eyes found the window, and she saw the huge iron gate miles away, completely going around the perimeter... What the hell did she get involved in? -------- Patrick looked at her book and frowned, reading every word over and over.... His heart sank a little. It was true... He was an ass, but he didn't realize this wasn't a game to her anymore. For years, they went back and forth like a cat and mouse, and it was all fun. Sometimes they fought, but it usually ended before it started, for they didn't let eachother get to the other's emotions. "Abby," he sighed after a moment, finally looking up from the flower and it's note. "I... I'm not the person you need to be writing things like this about." He frowned and closed it, placing it back on the bench before walking over to her. "I'm a jerk. I know that... Which is why you needn't put much faith in me. You've got many men who would deserve you more than I." -------- *Click, click, click, click...." The sound of Scarlet's heels were fierce and defiant, each *click* sounding with importance. Her vibrant red hair gleamed against her fair skin, curled away from her face and down her shoulders, pinned back on one side. Her cheeks has a hint of pink, her eyes rimmed with winged eyeliner, and her lips were ruby red... As walked down the hall from the main entrance, a guard behind her with her bags, the conversation fell from the room. Most of the men in the room appreciated her figure, which was much curvier than most in the hip and bust area, yet her tiny waist was accentuated by her royal blue mini dress that hung at her knees and flowed as she walked. She was eighteen, but had an air about her that made her seem much older. Her legs were striking as she maintained perfect balance in her black suede pumps that rapped around her ankles, even as she walked up the staircase toward John Townsend's wing of the castle. They led her to his office while a messenger went to alert him of her presence, and she went to stand my the window, looking at the view of her new home.