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XVII. little taste of heaven
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Pope stared at the Midsummer attendees with envy. The way they laughed their heads off in their fancy suits and designer dresses while drinking the most expensive champagne money could buy. They have no care in the world to the other side of the island was currently in shambles. They lived in a bubble that contained expensive yachts and million dollar homes. Their skin shined like the plastic it was made of. Cold, shiny, hard plastic. Pope knew he would never be like one of them. He was the kind of person that watched from the distance. He wasn't the one that joined in on the fun. That's how the world worked.
"I've never seen someone look so good in an apron."
Pope turned around and he swore his heart stopped. He stood in awe of the Jennings girl and took in her appearance. The burnt orange color of her silk dress complimented her skin tone. Her skin shined in the light. Her usual messy and wild curls were now blow out into soft waves. The bruises on her face were covered with makeup. You never would be able to tell what she went through. A headband with rows of orange begonias rested on her head and tied the look together. She was simply flawless. A little taste of heaven.
Dylan went red under his stare. "Your dad have you on lock down again?" She asked, referring to the outfit and grill.
"Yeah, um. . ." Pope started and paused to clear his throat. "Y'know, punishment for almost getting arrested. Not that I mind,"
"Yeah, my dad's keeping a close on me," she responded and looked around for her father. "I told him to leave his shotgun at home."
His eyes went wide. "Shotgun?"
She nodded. "Yeah, he keeps it under his bed in case of a break in." She explained and smiled at him. "Don't worry, it's not for you."
He mentally sighed. "Wonderful." He looked her up and down again. "Wow. Um. . . you look beautiful."
A pretty smile stretched on her lips. "Thank you. I wasn't sure if the orange would suit me. My mom picked it out." She said and picked at her dress.
You look beautiful in everything, he said to himself. "Well, Ainsley has great taste."
