Erin had been wandering in the snow. She snuck out while Ivy cooked dinner. Sometime before Sebastian had gotten home, and she went out in search of something... though she didn't know what. Dress shoes, no coat, she must have looked a mess. Her hair still pulled into the pigtails from this morning, and half pulled out. A wispy swarm of hair. Her lips were turning blue from the cold. She didn't care. Hands still bandaged from the broken teapot, they were curled at her sides. No pockets to put them in. The tips of fingers still exposed were turning a lovely shade of purple.
Thinking wasn't something she could do quite yet. She hadn't really thought out where she was going. Just wandering. Wetting chapped lips from time to time. The winding streets of the WestEnd slowly getting dark as the sun started to set. She shouldn't be out. It clicked on in her head, finally.
A poster caught her eye. A glint of the setting sun reflecting off of its light. She drew over to it. Drawn to it, perhaps. Eyes, almost glowing green, scanned it. Then again. And again. She had read it so many times now.... why torture herself? But, she grabbed it by a corner, pulling it from the post and shoving it in her pocket. Quickly feet knew where they were going.
Drawing up to the building that held Alain's office, she climbed the stairs and stood in front of his door. Her somewhat bloody and bandaged hand tapped oh-so-gently against the window. "Alain..." Her voice sounded as fragile as glass. A breathy almost whisper. "You in there?"
Thinking wasn't something she could do quite yet. She hadn't really thought out where she was going. Just wandering. Wetting chapped lips from time to time. The winding streets of the WestEnd slowly getting dark as the sun started to set. She shouldn't be out. It clicked on in her head, finally.
A poster caught her eye. A glint of the setting sun reflecting off of its light. She drew over to it. Drawn to it, perhaps. Eyes, almost glowing green, scanned it. Then again. And again. She had read it so many times now.... why torture herself? But, she grabbed it by a corner, pulling it from the post and shoving it in her pocket. Quickly feet knew where they were going.
Drawing up to the building that held Alain's office, she climbed the stairs and stood in front of his door. Her somewhat bloody and bandaged hand tapped oh-so-gently against the window. "Alain..." Her voice sounded as fragile as glass. A breathy almost whisper. "You in there?"