☆彡 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚍𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎
𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎
In which a years old promise is seen through an...
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august 2037
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
SUMMERTIME HAS ALWAYS BEEN EVELYN'S FAVORITE time of year. perhaps more so when she was a child and summer meant freedom but even at the WLF, they are rewarded with a handful of days in which they have the freedom of doing whatever they want. And usually, that just means sleeping in and reading books that Abby recommend for her sake more than herself. Evelyn has never loved reading — but Abby does, and so, she tries to love it as well.
Evelyn just isn't as easily... entertained. She enjoys a good book for sure, and she loves discussing with Abby about characters, plots, the fictional relationships — but god, on this particular late Saturday morning in which they've managed to correlate their days off and Abby and Evelyn have gathered in Evelyn's room as Leah has gone off on duty — Evelyn is fucking dying of boredom. Moby Dick is supposed to be amazing but her focus is just not there.
And it so warm, like, so fucking warm they're both in their thinnest most comfortable pieces of clothing, laid a couple of feet apart on Evelyn's bed and snacking on dry crackers and water that they brought out of the freezer so long ago it's gone warm already and the ice has melted. This must be the hottest summer in a while, Evelyn figures. And they should be outside, they could be. But there's something so genuinely calming and comfortable about just staying inside.
Evelyn props herself up on her elbows, looking out at the room. Leah's bed has been neatly made, which is certainly a welcome sight and quite unusual. She's at the TV station for another week at the very least — leaving Evelyn to have the room for herself. Usually, she'd be a bit sad over that, the room is big and feels very empty without her. But not so much this last week.
Then she looks to Abby, nose deep in Twilight which she was forced to read by Evelyn who in turn would read Moby Dick. She looks so beautiful. So peaceful, eyes traveling across the page, lips slightly parted, eyebrows furrowed. Her hair is done up in a loose braid that's definitely over a day old, long strands falling down in her face.
Abby, having noticed her staring, looks up at her, a hint of a smile on her lips as their eyes meet. "What?"
"Okay," she trails off, frowning. She looks as if she's going to just return to reading, but then she doesn't, instead she draws her eyebrows together in an expression of disgust. "What the fuck is up with this Edward guy?"
