24 May 2018, 14:42
I don't dance
Verla happily began to hum as she drew in every little detail of the room, since she had good eye sight. Verla hated being alone when she drew, and she was even more infurior when it game to dueling. Though she'd never done it, she figured she wouldn't be very good with the spells she knew.
Verla stood up and began to dance slightly as she drew in the people in the ballroom. That seemed kind, and didn't seem to notice her.
When she finished her drawing, she sat down with her head in her arms, she looked at her shoes, she was so depressed, someone was trying to get rid of Oliver, and she would never forgive her if she lost him. She'd run away because she'd have no one else who she could talk to about everything. Oliver was her everything. And any fool who couldn't see that they had a special connection hadn't earned their place of the Earth yet.
Verla sighed and silently sobbed to herself, hoping Olympia wouldn't notice. She hated it when people confronted her of crying, because she hated crying in front of others, but the feelings were too heavy, she needed to find herself again.
Verla stood up and began to dance slightly as she drew in the people in the ballroom. That seemed kind, and didn't seem to notice her.
When she finished her drawing, she sat down with her head in her arms, she looked at her shoes, she was so depressed, someone was trying to get rid of Oliver, and she would never forgive her if she lost him. She'd run away because she'd have no one else who she could talk to about everything. Oliver was her everything. And any fool who couldn't see that they had a special connection hadn't earned their place of the Earth yet.
Verla sighed and silently sobbed to herself, hoping Olympia wouldn't notice. She hated it when people confronted her of crying, because she hated crying in front of others, but the feelings were too heavy, she needed to find herself again.
"What cannot be seen, felt, or carried?" Person who gets this right I will donate some money to them.
29 May 2018, 12:50
I don't dance
Olympia looked up upon hearing small whimpering noises coming from Verla. She wasn't doing too well hiding her tears. Olympia always panicked when people cried, because she never knew what to do. She felt uncomfortable while comforting someone, but also felt the same if she didn't do anything about it. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, sitting in a rather awkward position.
She continues to draw as she worries more and more about Verla's state. The drawing is getting sloppier now that it isn't the only thing she's focusing on. The holly around the edges of the ballroom looks nothing like holly anything, but simply black lines lining the room. You couldn't even tell it was there, because it looked like she'd made the lines thicker than they needed to be.
Taking a deep breath, Olympia looks up from her drawing pad. Verla is dancing slightly, still drawing, with a few tears falling down her cheeks. Finally mustering up the courage to do something, Olympia opens her mouth to speak, but the words don't come out. There's a lump in her throat preventing her from speaking. If Verla had seen her, she would probably think that Olympia didn't care. But she did, and she wanted her to know.
Setting her things down, she looked around the large room. There weren't as many people in the room now as there was before. Olympia guessed that the students had class, so they had no say in when they must go. She kept sneaking glances over at Verla, hoping the words would come out. But every time she tried to speak, the same thing happened over and over again.
She continues to draw as she worries more and more about Verla's state. The drawing is getting sloppier now that it isn't the only thing she's focusing on. The holly around the edges of the ballroom looks nothing like holly anything, but simply black lines lining the room. You couldn't even tell it was there, because it looked like she'd made the lines thicker than they needed to be.
Taking a deep breath, Olympia looks up from her drawing pad. Verla is dancing slightly, still drawing, with a few tears falling down her cheeks. Finally mustering up the courage to do something, Olympia opens her mouth to speak, but the words don't come out. There's a lump in her throat preventing her from speaking. If Verla had seen her, she would probably think that Olympia didn't care. But she did, and she wanted her to know.
Setting her things down, she looked around the large room. There weren't as many people in the room now as there was before. Olympia guessed that the students had class, so they had no say in when they must go. She kept sneaking glances over at Verla, hoping the words would come out. But every time she tried to speak, the same thing happened over and over again.