[ Original Christmas Verse ]: ❝Since you're a witch, use your magic to decorate the tree so I don't have to participate in this small activity would be nice.❞
Eyebrows raised, her visage narrowing candidly at the perfected guise of the blonde vampire who stood before her. She was as temperamental as the force of the gust outside [a vicious storm or a spirited shower of peace.]
But Bonnie wasn’t fooled.
No matter how the past had curled and curdled the knife-cutting tension between the two, something only relayed through second-hand unrest due to the constant torture of her friends and the family name, the young witch wasn’t the kind of person to ignore her ability to read people well. She also couldn’t ignore her complaining boyfriend who held Rebekah at the top of his list themed with the million things to go on and on about— that committed Bonnie in a monthly relationship with the couch.
Long story short— the brunette felt like she knew the girl.
Half amused, and fully cynical, Bonnie’s small lips pinched together in frank rejection, “—firstly, that’s not how magic works,” and the young knew that Rebekah was fully aware of it as she hefted her petite arms across her chest, lower lip pouting in calm dispute towards the Original’s words, “—And you’re wrong again. I can’t think of anyone more ready for this.”
She was almost smiling. Rebekah—romantic at heart— it wasn’t hard for the part psychic to tell; this was exactly what Rebekah wanted.
