Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
──── ' do you know the donut woman? '──── [CH. XIII] ✦ ˚
"i didn't know you were the possessive type, five."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A SWEET-SMELLING BREEZE DRIFTS AROUND OPHIRA, like her own personal brand of perfume.
The thickly-constructed heels of her Doc Martens collide against the rocky, uneven surface of the pavement beneath her feet. The illuminated sun rays beat against the slender frame of her back, the radiance catching onto the collection of auburn locks, bouncing fluidly atop her shoulders.
One hand slipped into the sleight of her skirt's pocket, long fingers coiled around a handful of the plaid fabric. Ophira's other hand collapsed at her side, the thin material of a throwaway bag tucked into the crevices of her palm. A collection of cinnamon-dusted donuts roll around the bottom, the scent of sugar tinging her senses.
Her dual-hued eyes swiftly catch onto the vehicle in the distance– more specifically, the van Five hijacked that sits promptly at the side of the road. At the sight of the machine, Ophira's long-legged strides quicken somewhat. Until the van was only scarcely a couple of footfalls away.
