📖 for any chara from wddnt 👀👀
A booming, hearty chuckle is what draws you in.
You round a corner, walking briskly down the sidewalk, and you think you see the source of the commotion a little ways up the street. There's a small crowd gathered in front of a house. They're all talking, but they seem to hush all at once very suddenly.
You approach.
In the center of the group you see her.
The first thing you notice is that she's tall, easily standing nearly head to head with many of the young men in the group and nearly head and shoulders over many of the women. Her hair is saved down on the side you can see, a bright but natural red that leads into a pile of light orange hair atop her head, artfully spiked. A tattoo peeks out from the collar of her shirt, winding up her neck with flowers piled on top of each other. Her voice carries easily to you even though there's still fifteen or twenty feet between you and the edge of the group.
"- not like I'm going to!" She's saying, laughing hard enough she throws her head back. The group laughs along. And then she notices you, "Hey!" She greets, over the sound of the group's laughter, "About time you showed up, I thought you chickened out on me!"
As if you could have gone back on your promise to be here.
You smile at her, and you don't voice the thought, but someone else in the group jokes that no one would be dumb enough to chicken out on her.
"Let's go, then," She says, through another laugh, and starts leading the group away.
You follow mindlessly, trailing after her.
It isn't until you're already downtown that it occurs to you - you've never met this woman before in your life. You don't even know her name. You hesitate, ready to turn back home, and she looks at you and smiles.
What were you thinking about?
"Let's go, Al!" A girl in the group whines, practically hanging off of her arm.
'Al' chuckles, turning away once more.
It's as if you wake up when her eyes aren't on you. You remember you don't know her, or her name, and fear knots your stomach. That girl had called her Al...
Your stomach somersaults as it fits the pieces together - red hair, tall, called 'Al'... You ran into the middle daughter of the Faulkner family. Everyone always says she has this aura that just sucks you in.
They're right.
She looks at you again, raising her pierced eyebrow and quirking her lips into a questioning smile. You forget what you were thinking about.
You follow her into the mall.