❦ ❃ THE BOOK OF MOONLIGHT | ...
"and i hope you're reminded,
that no matter how hard you close your eyes
to try and forget the way they held you close.
you'll never escape the moonlight."
carl and thalia are in love. they just have...
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Part V: Times of Peril
Third Person, Thalia Centered
When they got home the chaos started.
The tense walk back made for bad energy as it was, but the high strung nerves were enough to push everything over the edge. For one it seemed like every person they knew was running around the place.
People moved around them in haste, she tried to ignore it but by the fifth time she was knocked into her patience had dwindled down to nothing.
"Okay what the fuck is going on, seriously no more bullshit this is nuclear," she pulled herself to a stop glancing between the pair as they slowly turned to face her.
Carl avoided her gaze while shaking his head ignoring her pleads.
"Why can't you just tell me what's going on? You assaulted a kid with a shovel for gods sake, something isn't right with you !" she shouted.
Justice shoved his hands into his pockets turning to face Carl as he spoke to the girl, "Go inside he'll be there in a minute," he hummed.
Reluctantly, she walked away trudging up to the building and slipping inside. The door echoed behind her as she shuffled to her room and shut the door.
As soon as she entered the space her pack fell to the ground, sifting through it she pulled out the small baggie and lifted out a joint. Standing up Thalia looked around the trailer digging through the bedside drawers , plucking the lighter up she lit the joint dropping the lighter onto the bed.
Sitting down on the floor the girl crossed her legs, hands slipping underneath the bed waving around in search of the box.
It took a few seconds for her to find it, once she did it was easy to pull it out.
Taking a slow pull she popped the lid off tossing it aside as she began digging through the papers.
The first few were old agreements from months ago, paragraphs written about meetings and plans. Carls handwriting was sloppy and small, barely filling in the lines cramped together.
It was a mixture between cursive and slanted text, regardless she found it slightly difficult to read.
Flipping through the papers her finger gripped a fresh white piece of paper, lifting it out she glanced over the words her headache fading as the high settled.
