ππ:πππ©π¦, east of 75014 paris, ππ πππππ π ππππ: stood by the catacombs. back draped with a α΅αΆ€α΅Κ°α΅ α΅αΆ€α΅α΅Κ³ Κ²α΅αΆα΅α΅α΅ of a leather material, it rests itself against a concrete wall decorated with the frozen mist from the fog that surrounds the city this late at night. you'd think from the excessive running and the need to stay unseen and succumbed within the shadows, she would adhere to what's needed for her survival, "ππΎπΎπ πΊ π ππ ππππΏππ πΎ πππππ ππππ πΊπ π π»π πππ πππΎπ" just like bryce instructed: ππ¨π«π ππ ππ«π²ππ ππ§π ππ¨π«π ππ π°ππ’ππ’π§π ππ¨π« ππ«ππππ¨π¦. instead, she slips a cigarette between velvets, a slight α΅αΆ€αΆ°α΅α΅ α΅αΆ Κ³α΅α΅α΅α΅ fading from the few sips of wine she had with her delicious room service or rather, lack of. the butt of it is lit with a metal lighter, inhaling a puff slowly to enjoy the little moments in life. the way it climbs down her throat into her lungs, starts a wildfire of hunger & disobedience. it almost makes her α΅α΅Λ‘α΅αΆ°αΆΚ°α΅Λ‘αΆ€αΆ for a few minutes, the sudden rush of loneliness deepening the pit in her stomach where she can't help but choke, a raspy clear of her throat allowing her to prevent herself from coughing. ( π π«πππ. i can't even cough without fearing that i'll be seen. who would've thought i'd get this vain? ) first inhale, second inhale, third inhale: combat boots find themselves kicking at the dirt.
ππ π ππ ππππ’ π πππ ππππππ πππππ ππππ, and something deep within her is telling her she's not going to show: in lara's mind, the hastings sister has probably seen the news, read a few issues of π±π―π¦ππ²π«π’ π‘π’ πππ―π¦π° over the past day and a half and realised her π π¨π¨π ππ«π’ππ§π is now a fugitive and so, harbouring one wouldn't be the greatest α΅α΅α΅ to her transcript. not once has it entered her mind that this could be a coup, and there could be danger of lara's location being revealed, but there is the looming doubt that this very well could be a bust: the thought almost makes her sick, so she raises her chin, flicks the cigarette, and begins her escape with an exhale. until lights blare, a vespa pulls up, and she hears the sound of a ππππππππ πππ’πππ of click-clacking heels. @hastinge.
ββ π’ was beginning to suspect that you Κ·α΅Κ³α΅αΆ°'α΅ going to show. funny that, seeing as i'm πππ ππ’π the one who's late. ββ she can't help but pull her into a deep hug, for it's the first time she's seen a αΆ Κ³αΆ€α΅αΆ°α΅Λ‘ΚΈ αΆ α΅αΆα΅ since the entire murder scandal. she pulls away finally with a sense of hesitation, like she's embarrassed that she's bared her teeth so early in their meeting, mind occupied with the possibility that spencer could be thinking she's guilty so the hug was entirely inappropriate, π»ππ π½πΎπππΎππΊππΎ ππππΎπ πΌπΊπ π πΏππ π½πΎπππΎππΊππΎ ππΎπΊππππΎπ. ββ sorry. what a π£π²π« π₯π¬π©π¦π‘ππΆ i'm having, right? ββ
