j u n i p e r

This was totally not a stress box-dye. Not at all.

I think I’m in love.

I broke my cookie diet. Though, I really should have known better. No one can resist cookies.

So it is biochemical warfare. Wicked.

June placed tucked her pen behind her ear. She leaned closer, peering at the paper Leonardo was looking at. “Do you think Savitri is gone? Sites like it can only go so far, and in a city like this, not many people are happy to part with their secrets.” 

I have no idea what this is by the way. I’m hoping biochemical warfare of some sorts, but I don’t think you’re devious enough for that.

Penance. There’s nothing more punishing than watching birds.

This has nothing to do with death, it has to do with your protecting someone who shouldn’t be protected. You didn’t keep quiet to stay alive, you kept quiet to help her even though an innocent girl died.

I know. The dream just feels kind of gross at the moment; sort of ruined.

Thanks. I just thought he was different. The idea of him was what I wanted to be one day; a voice for the people. Or -- I don’t know, to one day write people’s stories. It all just feels bleak now.

Whether it’s swept under the rug or not you still write it. You don’t succumb to their tyranny, you write and prove a point of not being silent.

What they say about meeting your idols is true; they become narcissistic boy toys getting their dick sucked to cover stories.

I thought you were the most admirable reporter in the city... but you’re just another sell out.

C’mon, we’re running.

That actually sounds interesting, who won?

But doesn’t it? He’s done so much...