Evil, I've come to tell you that she's evil, Most definitely. Evil, Ornery, scandalous and evil, Most definitely. The tension, it's getting hotter.
I'd like to hold her head underwater.
LANA DEL REY / DOIN TIME
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THE SNOW released a soft crunch with every step, leaving a trail of footprints behind a tall figure. His pitch black, slightly damp locks held a white coat to them as the snowflakes continued to graze his pale cheeks. Gripping his suitcase tighter, his glove making it harder to take a firm hold of it, the boy sighed.
Upon him was a familiar sight, bringing a smile to his tired face. Pale cheeks suddenly gained a rosy color - from excitement, nervousness, dread? ... He was just about to find out which of the three was the cause. Or, maybe, it was something else that made his cheeks heat up; heart rate going higher as he walked further and further away from the train station and through the all familiar road.
Gilbert Blythe was finally home.
Oliver Williams couldn't get a blink of sleep.
He didn't know why - well, actually, he did - he just didn't expect to feel such guilt upon lying to Margaret. The utter hatred he felt towards Lily wasn't enough to expose her devious act, for his love for Margaret was far more precious.
He poked at his breakfast, cheek in hand as his elbow started to hurt from leaning his head on it, his whole arm going numb. On the opposite end of the kitchen table rambled George, in his usual hyperactive manner, completely unaware of the mess that was going on inside his best friend's mind.
" Man, I could really go for somethin' sweet." George confessed, patting his stomach after finishing the last bite of his breakfast.
"Perry's pumpkin pie sounds like a dream right about now. What'd you say, Ollie?" The brunette boy questioned, his question followed by silence.
"Ollie?" He tried again.
The blonde simply remained unmoving from his position, poking the thin silver fork into his eggs without even taking a single bite. George snapped his fingers in front of the blond' s face, snapping him out of his thoughts as the boy finally raised his head, blue eyes meeting George's curious ones.
"You alright, mate?" He asked, although he already knew the answer. Oliver simply sighed, throwing the fork back on the table with an ear-scratching clink.
"I can't do this." Oliver confessed, "I can't keep up with this lie, George. I have to tell her the truth - no matter the consequences."
The blonde sighed, standing up from the table without another word, slowly, almost tiredly making his way out of the kitchen and upstairs. Defeated, George sighed. He also knew there was no point in hiding it anymore.
