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Attempt at writing Sample |
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So for RP reasons this is here...
She kept to herself, sitting alone at the end of the bar. Her dark mahogany curls cascaded over her shoulder, a contrast to her fair skin. She let out a tired, dejected sigh, "This was not my day..." Her emerald eyes reflecting her downcast demeanor, but deep within them there was a glimmer of hope. Though she seemed to be a weathered woman her eyes told that she was still young at heart, eager to take on another day even though this one wasn't her best.
Her clothes displayed that she was an adventurer of sorts, a satchel strapped to her leg and waist, looking worn as though it had carried heavy treasures. Her dark denim jeans torn at the knees, fraying at her pockets and the hem. Her shirt was a long sleeve button-up once made of sturdy cotton, that too had seen it's own adventure in multiple washes, faded to a hint of the royal blue to once was. The top was open, showing her white wife-beater, that too wasn't so white. Old stains of mud and blood graced their appearances on her white tank, and even with this worn grime she was a beautiful woman.
"Another" she managed to say audibly enough, meagerly lifting her class to the bartender.
"Don't got overboard" the bartender cautioned, knowing her well enough that she might do such a thing.
"Oh, hush man... I just need to loosen up, enough so I can't feel my muscles..." she responded with a smirk. She sounded tipsy.
"Uhh... well you won't feel anything at this rate. I get off soon, let me take you home" he offered, it wasn't the first time. He cared for her and her safety even if she was perfectly capable of handling herself. As a bartender he met enough characters to know that this woman was what his heart desired. He was a gentlemen though, never over-stepping his bounds. She knew that, and respected him for it, even if she wasn't a "proper" lady.
He waited patiently for her response, it was taking her longer than usual. He ruffled his mess auburn hair, as he waited. Looking around there weren't too many others around at this hour, which was a relief. He returned his focus to her, his hazel eyes looking into her foggy emerald ones. He lifted his brows in an expectant manner.
"Your home or mine?" she crudely flirted.
"It took you that long for that?" he asked, ignoring to answer the question initially. Once it registered he felt pink, and he took a moment to gather his words. "Are you serious? You can't be, it's the whiskey talking..." he replied.
Her face contorted to being offended, but then smiled, "Maybe the whiskey... gave me the courage... for my true intentions..."
"True intentions" he echoed. He wasn't sure, but she couldn't stay at the bar forever. "I'll take you to mine, and you'll sleep in my bed"
"With you?" she kept grinning
"No-no-no, I'll be on the couch..."
She pouted "Such a gentleman, it's kinda sick..."
He sighed, it was his greatest downfall sometimes, but he respected her more than anyone else.
 Cellular Addiction · Sat Jun 04, 2016 @ 05:12pm · 0 Comments |
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