arcadia bay's finest punk disaster. music major at blackwell academy. #FanAccount #Fake #RP written by #JAY.
Joined December 2020
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โ
โ โ โ โ โ ' ๐๐ค๐ค๐ ๐ข๐ค๐ง๐ฃ๐๐ฃ๐, ๐๐๐๐ง๐ฉ๐๐๐๐.
โ โ โ โ โ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช'๐ง๐ ๐ก๐๐ ๐ ๐๐ฃ ๐ค๐ก๐ ๐๐ง๐๐๐ฃ๐.
โ โ โ โ โ ๐๐ค๐ข๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐จ๐๐ ๐ข๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ฃ. '
โ โ
her eyes close, throat dry aside from the smoke, and her nose scrunches.
โ asshole, โ comes far too easily from her lips, hoping that the billow from her cigarette masks the redness in her ears. โ i'm ๐ง๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ, thanks. โ
a short huff escapes her throat, as she takes out her own, lighter coming to both ends.
โ couldn't sleep anyway, โ she mutters, breathing a long drag.
she doesnโt expect to hear another voice, even less so /her/ voice, piercing through the fog like a particularly-bright lighthouse. but as beck comes into view, her neutral expression breaks.
โ what do you think youโre doing here? โ she practically laughs, wrapping her +
christmas is always an iffy time for elena, she usually pretends itโs not happening. the halls are practically deserted with people off for the holiday, and she leans against a wall, a deep sigh.
* / ๐๐ก๐๐ฃ๐ ! retweeted
She lifts her hands and they feel borrowed. Even the decision to raise them is distant, made by another and assigned to her now. Thereโs a mirror before her, reflecting an image she recognizes by habit, a person with smudges of ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ตโ๐ด-๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ-๐ฏ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆโ๐ด lipstick all along+
the halls of blackwell have always been at their most appealing in the middle of the night. she feels more motivated, blending into the darkness like she's always been there. and tonight, she wanders.
her earlier cleaning of her dorm room had her coming across several things, +
a corner.
a jacket. nat's jacket.
her throat immediately tightens, and she attempts to swallow the thoughts that threaten to surface. el recalls a night in particular, after a smoke session, the sharpness lingering in the air around them. acts of passion that, even now, makes +
