Vixen Hope leaned over her sketchpad, her pencil creating broad,dark strokes as her chocolatey hair fell from it's braid like sea kelp.
On rainy days, she'd sit in her bedroom (aka the basement) watching the rain run down her small window, sketching. But, if it was sunny, which it was, she would walk down to the old community park to sit on the swing and draw. Her current drawing subject, a boy with jet black hair and sparkling blue eyes, was...interesting.
As she drew the sharp angles of the boy's cheekbones, Vixen couldn't help but wonder what the boy's "deal" was, the rusted swing creaking under her weight.
The boy was sitting a on a cherrywood bench, writing. Vixen looked down at her sketchbook to draw the sharp jut of the boy's leather clad shoulders and when she looked up, he was gone. She allowed herself a moment of sorrow at the loss of her brilliant subject before setting off for home.
A/N- the chapters are going to be short. Deal with it.
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He Will Be the Death of Me
RomanceVixen looked down at the clear-blue liquid. There was no reason to wait. After all, her mom was dead, her dad didn't really love her, and the only person she loved was waiting on the other side. Vixen choked down the liquid, which tasted oddly of ol...
