who: @cerberusfelicia when: september 22nd where: outside of the founder’s ball
rosalyn was already starting to grow agitated - if she had to smile and fake conversation with someone she couldn’t care less about, she was going to go absolutely mad. this wasn’t her scene. having to rub elbows with so many people made her antsy and anxious, crowds feeling like they could suffocate her. as she drank the rest of the contents in her flask, having lost count of how many champagne flutes she’d already gone through. she wished she had a cigarette. or something stronger to calm her nerves.
as she tucked the empty flask back into her pocket, she glanced over her shoulder, wondering how much longer she was going to have to keep up this charade of actually pretending to be interested in this, already dreading going back inside. she turned back to look back at the event space, though within a moment or two, she could feel someone’s eyes on her. watching her. in her personal space.
her hands flexing by her side, she was already doing the calculations in her head - how quick she’d need to move, where to angle the blow, which direction she’d go in.
when she turned, though, she saw that it was only felicia. “fucking hell,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. “you could warn a girl next time. otherwise i would’ve snapped your neck,” she pointed out, though there was no edge to her tone. they were strange words for the average person to toss around carelessly, but it was nothing more to her. “how much longer is this going to take?”