It all started when the sky, muted tones of powder…
Category: Descriptions
An epitome of grace and beauty she isn’t. Everything about her is awkward – from her gait to her nervous babbling. She stands there, with all her pride and a poor posture, staring at nothing in particular, a vacant expression on her face, lost in the wastelands of her own thoughts.
You could hear the click-clack of high-heeled stilettos from a mile away as she walked through the hallways to her class. The sharp tapping on the polished, marble tiles drawing attention from by-standers as they looked up from whatever they were doing to witness their school’s very own Femme Fatale on her way to education, or rather, a long gossip session.