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MissKitty19
Planetoid
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2017
- Location
- Niagara Falls
Biting down on her bottom lip she reached her clippers back. She just needed that one rose. Just that one. The bloom a lovely pink highlighted with a cream. The last one she needed to finish the bouquet. The scrapes on her arms, each time she bathed, stung, due to the thorns. Though she still refused the gloves, it was no fun if she couldn’t feel the delicate nature of the blossoms between her fingers. Like holding children’s hands. Just less sticky.
When she got it. When it was done, she looked on her creation. A little bundle of blossoms floating in a bowl. A rose surrounded by baby’s breath and little green petals in a clear glass bowl. It was lovely, understated, magical, as she set it in the center of the dining table she grinned.
“It’s lovely dear.” Her mother said with a passing glance and her father looked up from where he stood at the stove, minding his pasta sauce. For all her beauty, her mother was never a cook. Her father did most of the meals they ate that weren’t take out.
“Pasta again Daddy? You are determined to get me to run with you in the mornings aren’t you.” Her father was always trying to get her to go with him, not that there was any need. She’d inherited her mother’s metabolism just like she had taken after him with his blond locks, even though the rest of her seemed to take after her mother, who though a bit wrinkled around the edges still had the body of a woman in her late twenties. Beautiful, distinguished. She could only hope for the same when she aged. “ When are they going to be here?” For weeks her parents had been planning this evening, coming for dinner. They’d insisted she spend the night here instead of at the dorms. Not that she minded. Sharing a room had never been much to her liking. She liked her space.
Her father worked with them, that was all she knew and that they were bringing their son, someone she hadn’t seen since her awkward 16th birthday. Not that she minded, when they got together, her mother and his mother looked at them with expectant expressions and her father got the look he did after he had brokered a good deal.
The talks suddenly turned to personal accomplishments bordering on bragging, like when she had won the trophies in dressage, graduated Valedictorian, gotten into law school. Avoiding the disappointing things that made them all seem more human, like the screaming fight that had taken place the night she’d told them she was dating someone. Or the disappointed look that her Father had given her when she chose to go to school for something else. The strange look her mother had given her when she died her hair a pastel pink. No, when company came she was their lovely successful daughter and typically she played that part. She’d been set to do just that this evening, a black dress with a white collar, her pink locks straitened down her back, every bit the good daughter. Until the little invitation was slid across the table before they broke into the cheesecake.
They couldn’t be serious?
There had been talk of it, when they were children, but that was all she ever thought it was, just talk.
“No.” Katarina said simply as she passed the invitation back to her mother. “Its ridiculous, I won’t do it.”
When she got it. When it was done, she looked on her creation. A little bundle of blossoms floating in a bowl. A rose surrounded by baby’s breath and little green petals in a clear glass bowl. It was lovely, understated, magical, as she set it in the center of the dining table she grinned.
“It’s lovely dear.” Her mother said with a passing glance and her father looked up from where he stood at the stove, minding his pasta sauce. For all her beauty, her mother was never a cook. Her father did most of the meals they ate that weren’t take out.
“Pasta again Daddy? You are determined to get me to run with you in the mornings aren’t you.” Her father was always trying to get her to go with him, not that there was any need. She’d inherited her mother’s metabolism just like she had taken after him with his blond locks, even though the rest of her seemed to take after her mother, who though a bit wrinkled around the edges still had the body of a woman in her late twenties. Beautiful, distinguished. She could only hope for the same when she aged. “ When are they going to be here?” For weeks her parents had been planning this evening, coming for dinner. They’d insisted she spend the night here instead of at the dorms. Not that she minded. Sharing a room had never been much to her liking. She liked her space.
Her father worked with them, that was all she knew and that they were bringing their son, someone she hadn’t seen since her awkward 16th birthday. Not that she minded, when they got together, her mother and his mother looked at them with expectant expressions and her father got the look he did after he had brokered a good deal.
The talks suddenly turned to personal accomplishments bordering on bragging, like when she had won the trophies in dressage, graduated Valedictorian, gotten into law school. Avoiding the disappointing things that made them all seem more human, like the screaming fight that had taken place the night she’d told them she was dating someone. Or the disappointed look that her Father had given her when she chose to go to school for something else. The strange look her mother had given her when she died her hair a pastel pink. No, when company came she was their lovely successful daughter and typically she played that part. She’d been set to do just that this evening, a black dress with a white collar, her pink locks straitened down her back, every bit the good daughter. Until the little invitation was slid across the table before they broke into the cheesecake.
They couldn’t be serious?
There had been talk of it, when they were children, but that was all she ever thought it was, just talk.
“No.” Katarina said simply as she passed the invitation back to her mother. “Its ridiculous, I won’t do it.”