Oct 6, 2015
It wasn’t the most punctilious thing to do, the chuckle that escapes amaranth lips almost a bit too loud in the stillness of the suburb streets. But the melodious voice which rings is not one that dances upon a gibe. It is the sound of innocent mirth before steps are taken to close the space between her and the stranger. The stranger with the appearance that is antipodal to even someone like her.
❝ It must have been that wind from earlier, you have a bunch of leaves in your hair. You should probably - ❞
Sentence remains unfinished while a right hand maneuvers upwards to point by using her own head as a demo, to where the orange and yellow have decided to scatter upon his hair of platinum.
