Being angry was well and truly exhausting, like someone had lifted the plug and all of the good parts of her were seeping away down the drain. It wasn't as though Marian was grasping onto the hurt and spite for the sake of it, they clung to her like thorns and the harder she tried to rip it out the more entangled it became. It was getting difficult for her to tell where the rage began and where her true feelings ended, the hurt hiding in the corners of her vision as she tried desperately to look away. But the storm that rumbled above was just as stubborn as her inner turmoil, the sky flashed white as she clambered up onto a flat rock and landed in a slump, her chin level and her gaze downcast.
She was told she'd been born during a storm very much like this, it was bad omen some had said.
All of that shit paired with raging hormones and incessant heat and she was already fraying at the corners, grumpy in ways that put even her Father to shame. Go figure that at her lowest she'd become the spitting image of the guy she most liked to poke fun at. Tis the way the dirt crumbled she supposed. The thunder finally came and the ground seemed to quake beneath her, little rocks clicked against the stone before falling still. Marian swatted them aside just for the sake of it, her bright gaze following the movement with lazy interest.
(This post was last modified: Mar 19, 2021, 06:43 PM by Marian.)