Agnes Berkshire was born with life handed to her in a silver platter, yet she still chose to run away.
Winding up in the city of London, working at an agency run by two boys with no adult supervision; in which she absolutely despises the owner.
1...
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AGNES SIGHED, picking a silver dagger from her drawer, guarding it in her ankles inside her right boot. she bid a quick goodbye to Lucy who wished her luck and said goodbye to George, ignoring Joplin. she banged the glass door as she walked outside the house.
Lockwood was quick to help her with the steps before opening the door for her in the passengers seat inside the cab. "you seem tense." Lockwood observed once in his seat, staring at Agnes who scratched her gloved arms.
"social events tend to do that to me I guess—especially the fancy ones." Lockwood chuckled at her words. "what?" she asked.
"I believed you went to a lot of these gatherings." he smiled, scooting closer to her. "I have. social anxiety I guess. and they're never even good! I mean it's a ninety-five percent chance that the food will be something fancy but taste horrendous, these rich old people...god they're so superficial, everyone is. absolutely no originality. oh, and have I mentioned that I hate small talk? like I don't care that you find the evening beautiful or how bad it rained yesterday." Agnes continuously rambled nervously, the driver occasionally laughing at her snarky comments against the rich. Lockwood listened attentively, glancing at the ways her dark red lips moved at the sound of each letter. the way her hands occasionally gestured with each sentence and the way she laughed with the driver as she sometimes directed the conversation to him.
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the pair had finally entered the party after waiting in line shortly. they walked together in the same pace, Agnes had her hands lifting the skirt of her dress slightly as she descended down the steps with fake confidence. the couple stared at the large crowd and the building, the two grabbing a glass of champagne offered to them at the end of the steps.
"we should probably do some mingling first, you alright with that?" Lockwood's eyes retorted to her. "to make it look like we actually came to party." he explained.
"great. two of my favorite things. posh people and small talk." Agnes huffed, looking at the relic columns she was familiar with when she stepped her foot on Fittes. Lockwood followed her eyes, "ah. the famous relic columns. not a fan?" Lockwood noted her slight frown.
"Penelope's never let danger or good taste get in the way of her showing off her family's famous legacy." Agnes laughed slightly, "sounds like my family." she snorted and Lockwood smiled seeing she wasn't as tense.
"oh. speak of the devil." Lockwood commented as they stared directly into Marissa Fittes, who looked at Agnes. "shit. I think she saw me." Agnes looked behind her, drowning herself in champagne. Lockwood waved to the woman—receiving a slap across the chest from Agnes. "don't do that!" she widened her eyes in embarrassment. "what?" Lockwood chuckled.
"we don't need any type of unnecessary attention!" Agnes complained, grabbing a small delicacy that was offered to her by a waiter; giving the food a chance. "oh god..." she spoke with her mouth full, almost throwing up on the floor before she took Lockwood's glass from him, drinking his champagne.
