(no subject)
She woke up this morning and immediately regretted it.
It wasn't like she woke up anywhere weird or anything - it was her room, her own bed, not that she can remember ever getting there. She must've been wasted - she'd brought the berries she'd been eating with her, along with her guitar, instead of putting it safe in its corner for the night.
But all of that she could ignore, if she didn't feel rather like death warmed over. It's a little like when she had that cold, a little like when she got drugged by Kashaggi's goons, and not at all like either. It's taken her bloody ages to muster enough gumption to grab her guitar and head downstairs.
So now there's a small rocker chick, complete with rockin' guitar, crashed out on the couch. With one hell of a hickey.
(tinytag: A Gothic Winter Tale)
It wasn't like she woke up anywhere weird or anything - it was her room, her own bed, not that she can remember ever getting there. She must've been wasted - she'd brought the berries she'd been eating with her, along with her guitar, instead of putting it safe in its corner for the night.
But all of that she could ignore, if she didn't feel rather like death warmed over. It's a little like when she had that cold, a little like when she got drugged by Kashaggi's goons, and not at all like either. It's taken her bloody ages to muster enough gumption to grab her guitar and head downstairs.
So now there's a small rocker chick, complete with rockin' guitar, crashed out on the couch. With one hell of a hickey.
(tinytag: A Gothic Winter Tale)