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Subject: there's nothing wrong with being beautiful

Author: Addison

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: 22:09:40 09/05/09 Sat In reply to: Drake Jamison 's message, "What a Pretty Night, What a Petty Crime" on 17:55:30 09/05/09 Sat The male caught her in the midst of a flurry of text messages, bouncing back and forth between her and the rest of the pack, her brothers back in London (or Dublin, or Paris or whever the hell they were that day) and her father. Blair's wife was having a baby, Daddy was lost somewhere in the midst of the Red Light district and the pack was on high alert. Her focus was so widespread she almost missed the sound of his footsteps on the grimy concrete, clomping along with the sound of designer soles. Her eyes, more green than hazel in the murky light, darted up from her phone's screen to his face. Oooh. She silenced her phone with a quick gesuture, sliding it into her jacket pocket. Speak of the devil. Tall, attractive, good fashion sense- and, to seal the deal, inhuman. Could tonight get any better? She straightened instintively, her legs simultaneously crossing at the ankle. First impressions were key, no matter what experts said. Ten years for now, someone could ask how they met and he would remember this, oh yes he would. And she didn't want to be stuck in his memory- even she said hello and he just walked away- as a well-dressed (admittedly beautiful) slob. She was better than that. If she wanted him to see her slouching, it would be on her couch in sweatpants, not out in public in Gucci heels. He was horridly attractive. She could feel the faint pink of a blush staining her cheeks. Was he lost? looking for something? Or was he interested? She needed to know. She had to know. Now. As quickly as possible. Once she knew if he was checking her out, she could begin analysis. There was no point in categorizing him as a gold-digging jerk or patronizing rich boy until she decided that he cared. One of her french-manicured hands rose to the thick strand of pearls around her neck, rolling one of the gems between her thumb and index finger. "Hey." She murmured, raising an eyebrow. "Lost?" ...nothing like a direct approach? jacket necklace shoes a d d y .c. d e u c e