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+---- Thread: IN THE WAKE OF SATURDAY ; open, ooc prompt (/showthread.php?tid=1135)
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Re: IN THE WAKE OF SATURDAY ; open, ooc prompt - Margaery - 05-07-2018
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MARGAERY MIKAELSON
Please, don't. I love you.
Fuck. Fuck.
'She probably thinks that you're a hateful bitch now,' her mind teasingly cooed, claws escaping their sheathes at the very thought. She was angry at herself, angry because for once, that beast inside of her was right. Wholly and completely right. But ever the master of disguises, she remained steely faced, a casual air of nonchalance radiating from her lithe form as she gazed intently (albeit with concern) at Suiteheart. She didn't know what to do nor did she know what to say, not after that. Not after any of this.
She was half tempted to leave admittedly. Picking herself up and departing seemed like both the easiest and most effective option but she knew deep down that that would only make things worse. Did Suiteheart not see that she was trying to do her a favor? Did she not know Margaery as well as she thought she did? A soft sigh would escape parted lips and the girl continued to do her best at pretending. She had gotten so good at that over the course of her life- pretending to be normal, pretending to be perfect, pretending to be happy. Another lie, another face, wouldn't hurt her anymore than her previous transgressions and sins had.
"I said," She began, ever the picture of poised grace, [color=#b14767]"that Hazel did a wonderful job and that I hung up some pictures of us the other day. Charming ones from when we were younger. I'll have to show you sometime." She had never hated herself more in that moment, behaving as if she had not just committed the ultimate atrocity, behaving as if she and Suite were still as thick as thieves and madly in love.
She hadn't thought she had let the monster take over.
But perhaps she had.
Fuck. Fuck.
'She probably thinks that you're a hateful bitch now,' her mind teasingly cooed, claws escaping their sheathes at the very thought. She was angry at herself, angry because for once, that beast inside of her was right. Wholly and completely right. But ever the master of disguises, she remained steely faced, a casual air of nonchalance radiating from her lithe form as she gazed intently (albeit with concern) at Suiteheart. She didn't know what to do nor did she know what to say, not after that. Not after any of this.
She was half tempted to leave admittedly. Picking herself up and departing seemed like both the easiest and most effective option but she knew deep down that that would only make things worse. Did Suiteheart not see that she was trying to do her a favor? Did she not know Margaery as well as she thought she did? A soft sigh would escape parted lips and the girl continued to do her best at pretending. She had gotten so good at that over the course of her life- pretending to be normal, pretending to be perfect, pretending to be happy. Another lie, another face, wouldn't hurt her anymore than her previous transgressions and sins had.
"I said," She began, ever the picture of poised grace, [color=#b14767]"that Hazel did a wonderful job and that I hung up some pictures of us the other day. Charming ones from when we were younger. I'll have to show you sometime." She had never hated herself more in that moment, behaving as if she had not just committed the ultimate atrocity, behaving as if she and Suite were still as thick as thieves and madly in love.
She hadn't thought she had let the monster take over.
But perhaps she had.
[font=georgia][COLOR=black][size=14px]the ascendants [color=#b14767]| observer | wilting rose | vampire | tags