appliied
pursuing her typical after school routine, she enters the apartment, tosses her backpack by the door ( & her shoes next to it ) and climbs on the sofa before breathing a sigh of relief; she’s home. the facade one must have in order to survive high school is exhausting.
upon hearing floorboards creak behind her she smiles slightly, excited to talk to her brother about the day’s events ( but not before a bit of nagging first ); ❛ oh, you are home I tried texting you to pick me up ----- ❜ her head tilts slightly in his direction & that’s when she notices. it’s not bellamy. in an instant she’s standing on the sofa ( to make her seem taller of course ), battle stance ready with a remote in her hand as if it were a knife. ❛ who the hell are you? ❜
