❝ you’re wasting your time. ❞ [eden + paris]
a puff of air leaves her lips in a mocking scoff, sending wisps of grey smoke curling out into the night. eden is perched on the roof of this townhouse with her back so straight, she could be sitting on a throne instead of sloped tiles sticky with tar. she’s never been good at recieving criticism — her best and longest friend is her own ego. paris is poking at it with sharp words that make her want to rear back and strike the younger woman across the face. but for now: restraint. frustration burns deep in her belly; eden has no patience for the likes of paris moody — she can respect a healthy dose of self-preservation, but the girl’s teetering neutrality is boresome. she has no idea why her grandfather sent her combing through scummy house party after house party looking for this person who clearly has no intention of swearing fealty to anyone or anything. “fuck you,” she replies, finally. she gestures up and down at paris with her cigarette. “at least i am doing something with it. do you think you’re doing any better? you can only play both sides until one of them loses, love.” and where will you be, then? “remember that, when you have no allies left.”
