Feb 5, 2016
( @bxkedstxner )
Nudging the door to the Murder House open with her knee, Natasha flipped her shades up, nesting them into her mess of a hairstyle (which she sure as hell could pull off). In her other hand, her fingers securely clung to a bag of goodies from Chipotle. As promised. “Daniel!” Nat called out as she kicked the door closed and twisted to glance around the foyer. God, how she’d kill to be able to step into that house without paranoia spinning about in her mind.