Running
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"Everyone has seen! I won fair and square, how dare you even insult me like that!" He was just inches from my face. His hot breath fanned my cheeks, his breath smelt of earl grey tea. The angrier he got the more his chest pressed into mine, stunting my breathing momentarily.
"Yet I will never truly be your prize," I whispered. It only took a split second for his beautiful ocean blue eyes to turn the harsh grey, like a storm just formed.
~
Running. From him? From myself? From my old life? Who's to know any more, my heart is never at rest. My name is Jezebel, I have been planning my life for so long. Why must this damn tradition be my downfall?
~
Or will it be her rise?
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