~ || Яσвʏи Ɔαƨƨι∂ʏ || ~
♠ Sometimes these cuts are so much deeper then they seem
You'd rather cover up, I'd rather let them be ♠
With Erin wading into sea and flitting over to Jackson, Robyn was left standing with Damien, and she had no idea what to say to him. She looked out to the horizon for a moment, but her eyes caught on jackson and Erin, the glint in their eyes and the way Erin turfed up the sand. "What is it with everyone and f*cking relationships at the moment?" she muttered angrily to herself. "See you later Damien," she said, perturbed, the bother and agitation was clear in her tone, but it was not directed at Damien. She didn't know why it irked her so much, it jsut did. All her cr*ppy failed relationships came flooding back to her whenever she saw someone flirting or displaying affection. She couldn't stand it at all, it just bothered her and she had to leave the room if she saw it happen. She trudged back up to the house, fists clenched, muscle tense, tattoo more visible than usual. She tried to reason it out with herself, tell her to go back, but she didn't see the point. Her conversational skills had been failing her dismally today, and to top it all off she knew there was going to be a hell of a lot of flirting going on this place.
In the kitchen she pulled herself up onto the work surface. Lodged in the corner between a shiny sink and a cupboard, she sat with a huge mug of extremely strong coffee in herhand. Her face was tear-stained as she thought of her rubbish life. She pretended it was all hunky-dorey, that everything was fine, but it really really wasn't. So many failed relationships, she was already taking after her father. She never told anyone about the way they always moved from council flat to council flat, the fund running out, her dad's attempt at getting a job failing every time. She felt like a discarded, unwanted rag doll being thrown about the place until someone would keep her. She doubted if her father even cared for her anymore, he only ever seemed interested in cluubs and women. She sometimes wondered if she should do what he did, alcohol and drugs, but she couldn't bear to follow in his footsteps. She nevr wanted to be come like him.
She looked out the window, a few people visible on the patio, but she disregarded them, too busy wallowing in her own self-pity to even contemplate conversation. She did't even get a buzz from the caffeine. Why had she ever though staying here would be fun? She was just reminded of everything about home, everything wrong.
♠ Sometimes these cuts are so much deeper then they seem
You'd rather cover up, I'd rather let them be ♠
With Erin wading into sea and flitting over to Jackson, Robyn was left standing with Damien, and she had no idea what to say to him. She looked out to the horizon for a moment, but her eyes caught on jackson and Erin, the glint in their eyes and the way Erin turfed up the sand. "What is it with everyone and f*cking relationships at the moment?" she muttered angrily to herself. "See you later Damien," she said, perturbed, the bother and agitation was clear in her tone, but it was not directed at Damien. She didn't know why it irked her so much, it jsut did. All her cr*ppy failed relationships came flooding back to her whenever she saw someone flirting or displaying affection. She couldn't stand it at all, it just bothered her and she had to leave the room if she saw it happen. She trudged back up to the house, fists clenched, muscle tense, tattoo more visible than usual. She tried to reason it out with herself, tell her to go back, but she didn't see the point. Her conversational skills had been failing her dismally today, and to top it all off she knew there was going to be a hell of a lot of flirting going on this place.
In the kitchen she pulled herself up onto the work surface. Lodged in the corner between a shiny sink and a cupboard, she sat with a huge mug of extremely strong coffee in herhand. Her face was tear-stained as she thought of her rubbish life. She pretended it was all hunky-dorey, that everything was fine, but it really really wasn't. So many failed relationships, she was already taking after her father. She never told anyone about the way they always moved from council flat to council flat, the fund running out, her dad's attempt at getting a job failing every time. She felt like a discarded, unwanted rag doll being thrown about the place until someone would keep her. She doubted if her father even cared for her anymore, he only ever seemed interested in cluubs and women. She sometimes wondered if she should do what he did, alcohol and drugs, but she couldn't bear to follow in his footsteps. She nevr wanted to be come like him.
She looked out the window, a few people visible on the patio, but she disregarded them, too busy wallowing in her own self-pity to even contemplate conversation. She did't even get a buzz from the caffeine. Why had she ever though staying here would be fun? She was just reminded of everything about home, everything wrong.
