Name:
Paige
Gender:
Female
Favorite scent:
The smell of new books.
Ever since she was a young cerial, Paige would often get ill as the crisp and cool days of fall came to and end and the bitterly harsh winter made its way through. Her parents, fearing for their delicate child's wellbeing, kept her inside, where she would be safe.
From her bedroom window, she'd look down and watch the other children who were playing in the snow without a care in the world while she was stuck in bed. She grew to hate winter as a result, and very rarely spoke to anyone aside from her parents.
One chilly morning, while she gazed out the window with half-lidded eyes, one of their maids entered her room with a small book in her hands. Paige, only knowing how to read a few words at the time, took the book from the kind woman and scanned through the pages with wide eyes. She instantly grew attached to the book, but after finishing, she craved for more.
From then on, the staff that worked within her parent's mansion would continue to bring her new books, volumes even, each one more advanced then the last. Paige's room became a scattered utopia of knowledge, literature "neatly" stacked into piles all over the floor, shelves, and even the tables.
Her mind grew stronger, yes, but her immune system grew weaker. She was put on bed rest sooner and sooner each year, and like the winter, she became more bitter and reserved. Intelligent, beautiful, and ice-cold, she was quite the well rounded individual, but was never able to open her eyes and experience the world for what it truly was. She only read stories of the vast Earth and she was satisfied with that. Because of her terrible attitude and absence of social skills, she ended up lacking in friends. She claimed it was because everyone else was too stupid and ignorant to keep her attention. But it didn't matter. Who needs friends when you could have everything you could want and more in books?
Art:
WIP C: