❝ And that's Marlowe - better known as Mar...❞
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𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐞. You rarely catch her without sand-covered skin and dark locks winded up from saltwater. Born and raised on the island, with a house that radiates...
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𝐄ver since Marlowe was little, she would get a headache from sleeping too long.
This time, although sleeping in, that's not the reason for the aching behind her eyes. She groans. Brings a heavy hand to her frowning face. The dryness on her tongue lingers from last night, yet a reminder of the nasty alcohol.
She peeks one eye open, locating her phone on the nightstand. Her finger taps the screen, letting the device light up. She peeks groggily, barely making out the digits through the blurriness overlapping her sight.
01:17 pm.
Another groan. She rolls over, face hiding into the soft pillow. The blue and yellow flower-patterned sheets are messily draped over her short frame, with one leg peeking out to alter the temperature.
She adjusts. Closes her eyes.
01:21 pm.
A soft sigh leaves her nose. A slight hum vibrates in her throat as if to convince herself she's about to get up.
She'd gone home last night. The clock was undoubtedly way past midnight once she actually stepped inside the dark house, with only the creaking of the door to sharpen her senses.
01:26 pm.
Bare feet touch the light wooden flooring, upper body swaying as she sits at the edge of her bed. Eyes shut. She yawns.
Before reaching her door, she catches a glimpse of herself in the full-size mirror on the wall. Her blue eyes stare back, judging her. They drift up to her poor excuse of a high bun; whereas most of the shorter strands have fallen victim to her tossing and turning.
The white and beige seersucker pajamas hang loosely around her body; the shirt hides her arms while the shorts reveal her tanned, yet sunburned, legs.
The stairs make almost no sound against her weight. Her hand rubs her eye as she works her way downstairs, another yawn flourishing.
Furthermore, her gaze lands on the white couch in the living room. Better yet, the person that's fast asleep on it. Her tired eyes travel down to the hardwood coffee table. Almost immediately, a knot forms in her throat as she studies the objects scattered on the glass surface.
