𝕸𝖎𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗 𝕸𝖎𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖆𝖑𝖑, 𝖂𝖍𝖔'𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝕬𝖑𝖑
The daughter of Snow White was a sight to see, carrying an unexpected amount of expectation on her shoulders. She only fears that she will never liv...
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"Let's write a story. Be in my book. You've got to join me on my page, at least take a look."
- would you be so kind :: dodie -
⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙
The dark-haired girl had bustled through her Kingdom barefoot, bumping shoulders with the maids and servants, then profusely apologized over her shoulder as she excitedly ran towards her mother's study. As she turned the corner, a loose strand of hair flew to the front of her face, which she moved away as she brushed her fingers through her long hair with her free hand. In the other was a brown envelope, her name written in cursive lettering on the back with a red stamp, sealing the envelope closed. Auradon Prep's crest. The letter she was holding onto tightly was either her acceptance letter, or her rejection letter, and only Fairy Godmother knew how much she wished it was the first option.
Distracted by her own worrisome and exciting thoughts, the young girl tripped over the skirt of the dress, ungracefully landing to the floor with a soft thud. Gasps were heard around her, every voice she heard was asking if she was alright.
"I'm okay!" The Princess had sat up, rubbing her rear with a crease in her eyebrows. The maids and servants around her were not satisfied with her answer, only to reach toward her and help the darling girl up and back on her feet. "I'm okay. Thank you!"
Giving them a beaming smile, she thanked them for their help before brushing off any dirt and dust on her fitting, exposed shoulder top and picking up the ends of her long skirt and rushed to her mother's study. Softy shaking their heads with quiet laughter, they didn't worry too much about the bubbling girl, knowing how she was.
"Mom! Dad!" The rosy-cheeked girl bursted through the double doors with the biggest grin on her face. Her outburst attracted her parents' attention, their heads snapping up away from their work. Her father slumped on the velvet couch--the same one where Ivy usually liked to take naps in--on the side of the room, his arm perched up on the armrest, with a few papers littered around him. Her mother was sitting on the top of her desk with her legs crossed, her thick-rimmed glasses at the tip of her nose. Her mother wore a pale yellow, floor length dress, patterned with royal blue swirls to accent it. Her father wore a quite vibrant yellow button-up with black pants.
At this, the girl stopped her actions and squinted, her mouth slightly agape as she was trying to form the words for her father's oddly bright button-up. She rested her hand away from the doorknobs, putting them by her side.
"Ivy, are you alright?" Her father was the first to speak, seeing his daughter's distress. Putting down the paper he had previously had between his fingers and regarded her carefully, almost as if he was inspecting her of any physical injuries. Pursing her lips, she treaded carefully inside.
