[001] valentina monroe

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VALENTINA MONROE, 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆


( and we're a lot alike,
in favour, like a motorbike.
a sailor and a nightingale
dancing in convertibles )


     𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘, twisting up a golden tube of cherry-red lipstick

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     𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘, twisting up a golden tube of cherry-red lipstick. Engraved into the side were the small, unmistakable words Christian Dior. The gold edges of the lipstick were tarnished with smudges of crimson, well-loved and used over time. Not very much product remained in the tube, but ever meticulous, Valentina managed to sweep it across her lips with sharp precision and grace. 

     She gazed at herself, tilting her head to study each imperfection and flaw etched on her face. Although she had every dark spot and freckle already committed to memory, there was always the constant urge to remind herself of them. This was a familiar ritual.

     Adjusting her blown-out curls, Valentina stood and turned around. At nearly the same moment, something loudly crashed in the bathroom. "Don't die, Dorcas!" she shouted at the closed door. "We still need you!"

     Lara Kosinova, who was also in the bathroom, cracked the door open. Her grin mirrored Valentina's. "Dorcas is trying to use the muggle hair dryer she got over Christmas."

     The door suddenly flung all the way open. Breathless and distraught looking, Dorcas Meadowes held up the hair dryer in the air like a torch. A long cord dangled from it, grazing the floor. "I can't turn the bloody contraption on!"

     Valentina blinked at the sight, saying strangely, "Don't you need electricity for that?"

     "What's that?" Dorcas frowned. Despite being a half-blood, she had grown up with only her pureblood father.

     "Um," Valentina said uncomfortably. "Dorcas darling, I don't think that'll work here. Hogwarts isn't very equipped for muggle appliances."

      Dorcas sighed, lowering her arm. "That makes a lot of sense. I knew I should've taken muggle studies."

     From the corner of the dorm, Zoya Selim groaned. She sat up from her bed, curly hair looking maddeningly perfect. "Merlin's beard, no you don't! I think I'm failing muggle studies. If I have to listen to Professor Dunne discuss television one more time, I swear I'll throw myself down the―"

     "There's two minutes left!" Lara suddenly gasped, staring at the clock in horror. She made a mad dash out of the bathroom, hair rollers still pinned up. Her pale pink hair gave the impression of a mound of candy floss.

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