❀ ;⋆.ᤱ* 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑
𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃
in which she falls in love with someone
that has the soul of the devil, its not until
she gets a full taste of him does she start to
realize how truly vicio...
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄
𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓 of value was normal. life having to worry about the little things that mattered was normal. it was all normal to vela. she was normal. vela was seen to rare, to ever socialize with others as she always seemed to stay to herself.
she stayed in her room most of the time, reading books or finding ways to do her makeup, or hair. the gracefulness of her presence met anyone who vowed to be in the same space as her. the smell of her body, the structure of her face, all down to the silk bases of her hair was pleasing.
she was pure. never once had she experienced a sexual relationship with someone. no sexual desires, nothing. it stayed that way, who knows where it came from? maybe, she just never found the point of those things, maybe she never found the one.
or maybe she never found the opposite.
the birds continued to chirp, sitting on the ledge of each window, the bright and circling light pointing attention to the trees and what was behind them. vela stood on the front step of the patio, embracing the smooth and cool air that flew through and by her.
flying creatures twirled around pots of flowers and dirt that briskly got lifted up, upon the solid air. it was refreshing to feel like the day was going smooth, despite the sustained struggles that overcame the world at times.
vela smiled, as she stood up and made her way inside of the bungalow that her and both of her grandparents resided in. the door made a loud smack, as she unintentionally let go of the handle too soon. her hands flew to her mouth, waiting for her grandmother to comment about it.
"vela!" her grandmother scowled from afar.
"what have i told you about letting the door smash" her grandmother spoke, dragging her words out.
"i apologize grams, ill try and look out for it next time"
"ok, dear try a little harder next time" her grandmother reminded, a teasful voice remaining behind.
vela said nothing more, giving her grandmother the idea that she understood and it would not happen again. it was not often, far from constant that vela got herself into trouble. the idea of trouble for her was rare, as her grandparents taught her the difference between trouble and a troublemaker. vela was known to be none of those things. in fact, she was far from an average 16 year old girl.
