#obanncn

featuring @obanncn

delicate hands are buried in her pockets, desperately trying to find some warmth within the unforgiving chill of the new york streets. her finger reaches to tuck the stray strands of brown tendrils brushing against her cheek behind her ear. her frame is adorned in grand trappings, the little black dress that had been suffocating in the back of her closet finally had a breath of fresh air &  by the end of her night out, had been soaked with the pungent smell of tequila. for the brunette, however, the night was still young and who better to finish the night off with than the bonnie to her clyde, her parter in all things crime ; mr silas o’bannon. her thoughts and speech are no longer slurring, and being the self-destructive reveller that she was, why not chase the high one more time for the night. she arrives in front of his doorstop, her skin aching to get away from the cold before her fingers ball into a fist as she incessantly bangs on his door, carelessly, not a concern for her surroundings -- it seems like that’s what a thirst for the high will do to you.  ‘ open up, mister !  if i get hypothermia and die , its on you !  ’ @obanncn

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