(no subject)
http://i451.photobucket.com/albums/qq237/just_muse_me/jmm_storm.jpg
They were waiting for a demon in a high class hotel when it happened, the first lightning hitting the ground just outside the hotel lobby and the rest following in quick succession.
Beranabus paid the storm no mind and kept his eyes on the woman that they thought was going to be the summoner, Grubbs started once and then completely ignored it and Kernel cowered into his plush red seat and screwed his eyes shut in terror.
Nadia was the only one who sat up straighter in her chair and stared at the storm outside with delight, her eyes sparkling as she watched each strike slam into the ground and even letting out a loud whistle when one struck a lamppost (that caused Beranabus to roll his eyes and Kernel to let out a even louder whimper.)
She loved storms, had loved them since she was a little girl and her father had sat upstairs with her and had told her stories about the thunder clouds… And she still loved the wonder of them; such wonder had never left her even now she was almost thirty and feeling older.
And it was good… Even if all her “friends” looked at her like she was a moron.
Maybe she was, that didn’t stop her from feeling joy every time she saw a storm though.
They were waiting for a demon in a high class hotel when it happened, the first lightning hitting the ground just outside the hotel lobby and the rest following in quick succession.
Beranabus paid the storm no mind and kept his eyes on the woman that they thought was going to be the summoner, Grubbs started once and then completely ignored it and Kernel cowered into his plush red seat and screwed his eyes shut in terror.
Nadia was the only one who sat up straighter in her chair and stared at the storm outside with delight, her eyes sparkling as she watched each strike slam into the ground and even letting out a loud whistle when one struck a lamppost (that caused Beranabus to roll his eyes and Kernel to let out a even louder whimper.)
She loved storms, had loved them since she was a little girl and her father had sat upstairs with her and had told her stories about the thunder clouds… And she still loved the wonder of them; such wonder had never left her even now she was almost thirty and feeling older.
And it was good… Even if all her “friends” looked at her like she was a moron.
Maybe she was, that didn’t stop her from feeling joy every time she saw a storm though.