Red Lips

Bruised Peaches

Momoka brushed her hair a few times over before pinning a bright red flourish flower in her hair to match her blushed lips sighing gently.

Her eyes traced over her reflection in the mirror, her small pale face, her dark walnut hair draped past her shoulder, she could see her collarbone, under her thin, inked skin, rising and falling with each breathe.

Her eyes moved back up to look into her hazel eyes, she looked so frail.

She sighed, glancing to her bedroom door, anticipating a knock at any moment. Her father had promised dinner to one of his 'business' partners, Oliver Kirkland, deciding not to inform his family until that morning, with a pointed look towards Her.

She had overheard their speaking of alliances in the past, so it didn't come as a surprise, really, but she had never understood why it would be of any kind of benefit to any one.

Perhaps her father figured she would'nt ever find love elsewise, if he didn't arrange it himself.

He wasn't wrong. She wasn't looking. She wasn't planning to start a family anytime soon either.

Nontheless, she would do what was needed in order to please her father...even dining with a foolish boy..one with stupid pink hair on his stupid smiling face. She nearly hated him if she was being honest, he was always so carefree, unburdened by life...she was envious of it, as if it was a gift passed from the universe only to him, wholely unattainable for her.

She pursed her lips, adjusting her top to hide the ink on her skin, figuring Oliver would not take a liking to her many tattoos...in that case, maybe she should show them off, in hopes of scaring him and his father off, freeing her of them....

Maybe.

She left her shirt where it was, standing up.

Her brother walked past her door pausing to open it, and look her over "you look nice, bachelorette"

"Shut your face, dumbass" she walked over kicking his calf, making him yell,

"Shitface!"

"Takes one to know one!" she furrowed her brows, shoving him out of the room, closing her door hard. Her cheeks burned with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as she brushed her hair back into its place, ignoring her brother's taunting voice outside of her door.

She was more inclined to rid herself of these people, by any means neccesary, beginning to list everything she knew the Kirklands hated in her mind.

It was..a short list,..she didn't actually know much about them.

Foul language, certainly..she figured tattoos as well, and excessive showing of skin,..that one she admittedly disliked herself... and her father would certainly strike her after dinner, but that would be okay....

Wounds heal.

Everything suddenly felt more real, and she had an innate refusal to be pawned off to be the mother and home maker of some weak willed child, who wasted his days knitting, and baking, and frilly western dressmaking, was he even a man??

Certainly not by her standards....

And if she was to be arranged in marriage, she at least wanted a man.

Even if it upset her father, she had to do...something..she couldn't just go along with it.

She stripped down to her lingerie running a finger lightly over her collarbone as she stared at herself in the mirror once more.

She may be labeled as someone who lives a debauched life, someone with loose morals, or no regard, if the news got out, but even if it did, once she'd risen to power, and taken over the family mantle, any still mistaken fool who thought that would be swiftly corrected.