Scarlett wasn't sure how to feel or what to think. There was this nagging feeling that something about this woman was...different. But from what? She didn't know; she just knew that all of her senses were screaming at her, saying this woman was different. Scarlett wasn't even sure "woman" was the appropriate term to use to describe her...female? Girl? So far, it had been hard to tell her age.
The clumsy act of running into a pole seemed like something only a young person would be capable of. The young female was all over the place, extremely disoriented. Scarlett felt her go limp in her arms as soon as she got through her front door, and she was freakishly light, even as dead weight.
Rushing to set her down gently on the couch, Scarlett perched a throw pillow under her head and covered her with the soft burgundy-colored blanket that had been neatly folded over the back of her couch. Stepping back, Scarlett watched as the young female stirred slightly, her dirty blonde hair splayed across her face before becoming still again.
Scarlett's eyes traced the soft rise and fall of the woman's chest, each breath seemingly getting slower. She took a step closer and carefully brushed the hair out of the young adult's face, allowing her to see her whole face. Scarlett's gaze lingered, her confidence growing with every passing second—this was not just a girl, but a young woman, most likely in her early or mid-twenties.
The woman appeared peaceful and at rest, but her face bore evidence of the stress of life. She had slight wrinkle lines on her forehead and creases between her eyebrows, suggesting that she probably spent a lot of her time thinking, frowning, and feeling confused. All of that, with the addition of the bags under her eyes, made the woman look a lot older, and quite frankly, the woman looked overly exhausted.
As the woman stirred again, Scarlett snapped out of her analyzing thoughts. She reminded herself that it was creepy to just sit and watch someone sleep- it felt too intimate, especially when they were unaware they were being observed.
Determined to give the woman space, Scarlett walked into her kitchen and made herself useful by grabbing a bottle of cold water and Advil from the miscellaneous drawer in her kitchen island. She returned to the couch where the woman was resting and laid the items down as quietly as possible on the coffee table in front of her couch.
Creeping out of her living room, Scarlett watched the sleeping woman from the doorway of her kitchen. The woman shifted and twitched once again, and then began to snore loudly.
This young woman was more than different; she was a paradox. That's the word Scarlett decidedly upgraded the description of the woman too. She did not doubt there was more to this woman than meets the eye.
AUTHORS NOTE:
HEY GUYS I KNOW IT IS A SHORT CHAPTER, BUT IT'S BECAUSE I SPLIT THE ORIGINAL FIRST CHAPTER IN HALF. FINALLY DOING EDITS BUT IF YOU NOTICE ANY THAT I MISSED PLS TELL ME!!
LOVE - A
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The Cards We Are Dealt (Scarlett Johansson Fanfic)
RomansaTinsley's cards are shit, but she's playing them anyway. What else could she possibly have to lose? She's already lost her shot at a good childhood, the cards dealt to her stained front to back with memories she's still bitter about. Attempting to n...
