❛ 𝔦 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔦𝔪 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔦'𝔡 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔦𝔢. ❜
→ * . & ━━ a girl by the name
of sar, who can walk through dreams, finds
herself drawn to her hometown and into a
bigger m...
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༉˚*ೃ ᵒ¹. 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐘! C H I C A G O, I L L I N O I S. 1 9 8 3 .
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 over the counter, quiet and smiling and very alone. Her smile could have charmed just about anyone. Her blonde hair brushed past her face as she lay her flingers flat down against the counter's surface. Across her shoulders hung her beloved leather jacket, and below that, a bright yellow t-shirt that contrasted with the rest of her overall image. Her blue eyes were lifted up at the edges—but there were no crinkles formed. That was how you knew her smile wasn't genuine.
Waiting behind her was a long line, trailing out of the bank. There were always long lines here, it was part of the reason why it made this entire plan of hers so troublesome. She, however, had it planned out step-by-step. The teller facing her was a middle-aged man with dark hair and a large smile. He was questioning her about the options of banking while she leant across from him, feigning interest.
His thoughts were elsewhere. On his wife and family; wishing for a holiday; thinking about what to get his daughter Billie for Christmas. Simple thoughts. This one wouldn't be hard.
Sar tucked some of her blonde hair behind her ear and clasped her hands together, giving him a soft smile. Her eyes were the only thing betraying her mischief. Bright top, intense interest, a smile: that's all it took. Distract them long enough to get in their heads—it was simple. Before she even uttered a single word of response to what he was currently telling her, Sar was climbing into his mind like some twisted parasite. Her consciousness reached into his thoughts and gripped his.
She didn't have complete control over the man's mind—never did—and even if she could, Sar would never wish for that. She wasn't a monster. All it took was a small push. Human minds were a beautiful mess of colour and dreams, and his was no different. "Can I see the vault?" she asked, voice lowered and sweet but confident, her soft blue eyes focused on him. There were her thoughts, winding their way into his mind. She needs to see the vault.
It didn't take a lot. Human minds were easy to bend after all.
A kind of frightening calmness overcame him—his face eased, his eyes brightened—Sar always hated that part. The man smiled at her as if she was an old friend, stepped away from his position behind the counter, and opened the door for her. So very easy. There was a lack of commotion as she followed him. Why would anyone find suspicion in an action that friendly? He led her behind the telling station and into the inner works of the bank. Sar's mind strained with the effort of holding everything in place. His thoughts, and everyone else's. A perfect, pretty, clockwork picture.
