#xthefxrgxttenx

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@xthefxrgxttenx​

Send "Is that my shirt?" for your muse finding mine in your muse's shirt

                                                                 “Say what?” 

          FEIGNED IGNORANCE --- Brows skyrocketed, toothpick arms lifted, & dark eyes darted down to assess what she was wearing. (As if she didn’t already know). “Well, would ya look at that?” Didn’t take a ROCKET-SCIENTIST to figure out that the CHEAP, long-sleeved band shirt she was wearing didn’t belong to Emily Marie Davis. In fact, there was only one RICH BITCH on the face of the planet who would sport something so...BENEATH HER. & That was Beth freaking Washington. Tiny hands slid into the sleeves & bunched up in fabric. (Nothing special, but it was soft & smelled good). Shirt was TOO BIG on her. More due to the other’s height than weight. “Damn. How drunk was I last night? Last I remember Jess was daring me to strip and...I got cold...Musta, like, grabbed this to warm up or somethin’. No biggie. I’ll just give it back.” 

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@xthefxrgxttenx​ | DRINKING MEME

                                          BLINK.  BLINK.  BLINK. 

          “Uhhhhh...” For once in her life, Emily Davis is STUNNED SPEECHLESS --- Hadn’t been the suggestion to go out & get wasted that shocked her. Wasn’t exactly a secret or anything that Beth went bar-hopping on the regular. Hell, she’d even been dragged out by her & Jess on some of their WILDER nights. (Against her will & despite her complaining). Even blamed the two of them, (Especially Jess), for her slow & gradual dependency on liquor. She’d never wanted to try it. Feared it would stunt her brain & hinder her ability to be SUCCESSFUL. Not to mention, that crap was just empty calories & killed your fucking liver. (Her dad had lectured her for countless hours on the risks). But, PEER PRESSURE was a BITCH. & So was her best friend. --- All Emily had ever wanted was to let her guards down & be popular. So, she’d eventually relented & given her friends what they wanted. & Through that, she’d found out that alcohol was the BEST MEDICINE. It dulled insecurities & self-doubts & her father’s words --- Made her feel HAPPY & CONFIDENT. (Actually confident, not the bullshit facade she put on daily). That was why it was addictive & dangerous. She really should say NO.

          “Just, like, you and me---Or?” There it was. THAT was what had surprised the honor student. Beth Washington coming to HER of all people to go out on the town? Why not Jess? Or Hannah? Or Josh? Or Matt? Or Sam? (People she actually enjoyed being around). “Yeah. I’m totally down. You want me to invite Jess?” Spindly digits were already prying open her Gucci tote & digging out her cellphone. PESKY INSECURITIES screaming from the back of her skull; ‘She doesn’t wanna spend time with YOU!’ 

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@xthefxrgxttenx​ | NON-SEXUAL ACTS OF DOMINANCE

                                                             “Um. Excuse me, honey?” 

          Though the slap to the back of her hand had been VICIOUS ENOUGH to leave behind a burning red imprint across olive flesh --- The damage done, was to Emily’s EGO. Not her body. “You did NOT just smack me.” Derisive scoff. She had half a mind to bring her palm down across one of those pretty cheeks --- “Ugh. I was just looking. For fuck’s sake.” & By “looking” she meant; HELPING HERSELF to all of her friend’s belongings. Sifting through her clothes & music & movies. All the while muttering DISGUSTEDLY to herself about how it all sucked --- Wasn’t her fault Beth had SHIT TASTE. Last thing she’d reached for had been a box. Nestled behind a hanging disaster of a wardrobe. Guess, the girl was HIDING a little somethin’ somethin’ from her. Stomach lurched at the thought. She didn’t like SECRETS. Jaw went rigid & dark eyes narrowed --- Toothpick arms crossing over her flat chest, “What’s in the box, Bethany?”