Chapter One: Isalia

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It wont let me indent some of the paragraphs. 

 


I felt a little push on my back. I groaned and tried to swat and it, but ended up getting my hand slapped away. I huffed and opened my eyes, trying to get a good look of who the hell dared to awake me from my slumber. The room around me was blurry, the light from the window making it that much harder for my eyes to adjust. The walls of the room were concrete bricks, with old paint beginning to flake off. The floor was mostly wooden, some of it starting to cave in from the small holes in the roof, which by the way wasn't very well built. We had two windows in this room, one where the frame was more splinters and glue than anything, and another where the glass was shattered. There were two beds in this room, both looked like they belonged anywhere else but in a room. Even the door, which was supposedly "renovated", was practically falling apart.


 What a lovely home I live in.


               I sat up and rubbed my eyes, hating the person who woke me up. I felt a nudge on my shoulder again, and I groaned and removed the light green blanket that covered me. I swung my legs over the side on the bed and sighed deeply, still rubbing my eyes. I looked to my right and stared, with much irritation, at the figure next to me. He had curly locks of brown hair that fell down to his eyebrows. His face had all of these angles on them, especially at the end of his jawline and his cheek bones. He his eyes were pale blue, like the sweet way the sky was when the storm finished brewing. They were framed by thick eyelashes.  His nose, resembling a button, was red from him rubbing it so much. He was skinny and tall, his legs stretching out from his body. He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.


  "Oh what the hell are you looking at, Cole?" I snapped, continuously rubbing my eye. He rolled his eyes and gave me a stern look.


  "Why are you still in bed Adair? Do you know what time it is?" he pointed to the window and the brilliant light coming from outside. Shit, did I oversleep again? I kept rubbing my eye...


  Damn it! Why won't it stop?!


 "No I don't know what time it is, but I can give you a well thought out reason why I am still in bed." I responded. I looked at him with a straight face, in hopes that my poor excuse had worked its worthless magic for once. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.


 Oh thank goodness, he believed it. This ought to give me enough time to think of a reason.


  "And?" he looked at me.


 "Huh?


 "What's your well thought out reasoning for over sleeping?"


 Damn.


 "I was...out with friends?" I said, then almost face palming my forehead when I realized what I had said.


 "Was that a question or a statement?"


 "A question...NO, a statement." I corrected myself.


 Good grief my lying is rusty.

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