Helllllooo.
Lovely today.
(via takes-anoceanotobreak)
Good evening.
I know. I’ve been away but I’m back now. There seems to be so many new people here.
Oh good! I’m glad you’re back.
There are. But they’re very nice.
(Source: theinvisible-rose)
Rosalinde and Leo.
Rosalinde had been right. The apartment complex was.. well.. A shoebox. Leo hadn’t even contemplated spending a mere moment in a place like that. It was lumpish and decaying. He had always lived in high class homes, Not a crack in his walls. Not a single light bulb went out without be repaired immediately. But this was in ruins and crumbling. Only once did he live in place that way.When he was first transformed into a vampire. He had no where to go and settled into a broken down building; It wasn’t too bad. It suited him well for several weeks until he found a place of his own. A pristine hotel, Not a single stray of dust accumulated onto the splendid furniture, A large oval table made of pure marble. It was still living vivid in his memory. “I’m a Pisces.. By the way.. I give faith when you’re lacking it. ” A simple smile curved onto his lips as she picked at the lock with her key.
She eventually turned the rusty lock and pulled the door open, The stench of tobacco and husky sweat penetrated her, Wrapping around her. As she walked blindly into the lobby the smells began to morph into a rotting smell then a sour stench. She shrugged it off. It was familiar to her. She began to trudge up the cracking staircase, Murmurs from her neighbors seeped through the thin, fractured walls. The once glossy marble floor was now blench. Like the rest of her. As they continued to walk along the corridor the sounds began to range. They passed loud moaning then an argument. Typical. “You’re also self absorbed.. A relentless victim, dependent, martyr, And Depressive.” She lashed back, The amity was wearing thin as the discontent took over. She pulled down at her sleeve, Wiping away the droplets of sweat that were forming on the nape of her neck. It was humid in the apartments and it was rare to find anyone in the halls. Eventually they reached the end of the twelfth floor. Where Rose’s room sat silently awaiting her return. “Here we are. ‘My crib’.” She cavorted as she opened the door. The room was small. Cramped. But livable. It looked bare because most of the furniture had never been used. She threw her cardigan onto her coffee table which she bought in a thrift store and paced toward the kitchen in search of water, “Make yourself at home.” She called out.
Good evening.
(Source: dare-2be-a-dreamer)
