(no subject)
There's been a certain point that Luce has to admit that maybe, just maybe, there is no return for her. That maybe her one-way ticket to this place is going to be permanent and maybe she's here for some sort of karmic punishment because of Rachel or maybe she just needs the beach vacation.
Today, she's hoping on the latter.
She's fetched a two piece, a towel, and brought flowers with her to the beach where in between short soaks in the water, she twines and twists stems, arranging bouquets to present at the market over the next day. She's been curious about cultivating a sort of seaweed treatment for the flowers, but she's stuck to the simplest of things for now and lays them out on paper in the sand as she lets the sun bake into her skin.
No matter how distant she is from London though, she can't stop thinking about Rachel and Heck. She can't stop thinking about her friends, and for the life of her, she can't get Coop's voice out of her head, calling her things that she's not so sure she doesn't deserve.
She presses her lips together firmly and shakes her head to erase the memory, tying a satin pink bow on one of the bouquets and holds it up to peruse it over, hefting it back and forth as if to test the weight of a wedding bouquet before glancing over her shoulder at the distant sound of footsteps.
"If I throw this," she warns, "I may be imperiling you into a life of marriage. Fair warning to get out of the way!"
[Open to all tags until Friday!]
Today, she's hoping on the latter.
She's fetched a two piece, a towel, and brought flowers with her to the beach where in between short soaks in the water, she twines and twists stems, arranging bouquets to present at the market over the next day. She's been curious about cultivating a sort of seaweed treatment for the flowers, but she's stuck to the simplest of things for now and lays them out on paper in the sand as she lets the sun bake into her skin.
No matter how distant she is from London though, she can't stop thinking about Rachel and Heck. She can't stop thinking about her friends, and for the life of her, she can't get Coop's voice out of her head, calling her things that she's not so sure she doesn't deserve.
She presses her lips together firmly and shakes her head to erase the memory, tying a satin pink bow on one of the bouquets and holds it up to peruse it over, hefting it back and forth as if to test the weight of a wedding bouquet before glancing over her shoulder at the distant sound of footsteps.
"If I throw this," she warns, "I may be imperiling you into a life of marriage. Fair warning to get out of the way!"
[Open to all tags until Friday!]