a pocket full of screams

Lydia’s nod is slow, as if she doesn’t quite believe Tyrus’ story ( although she does ). The drawing is impressive. He has a distinct style to his sketching that the redhead recognizes as pure talent. Not that she says anything aloud about it.  ❝ well Tyrus ❞ finger taps down at the page that she hadn’t finished. ❝ it’s a pleasure to meet you. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to go back to my reading ❞ But her eyes linger on him for a moment. Lydia found herself wondering just where he had transferred from.  And what was under his shirt. 

she usually does a good job of hiding her turbulent inner feelings. In fact Lydia Martin had become a pro at it over the years. Concealer hid the exterior wounds, a false smile hid the interior. But he’d seen past that. Pale digits grabbed at the distraction in the form of Chanel Rouge Allure lipstick. She twisted the small tube and then started to apply the color to her pouted lips.  ❝ you don’t need to worry. I’m totally fine.  ❞ pursed lips pressed together. ❝ I don’t know where you get these dramatic ideas from. Didn’t you say you were going to get gas ?  ❞

❝ first of all, it’s practically impossible for me to come up with a ‘stupid’ plan. It’s water tight and you know it. Second of all, I might have asked for your opinion but I’m not going to listen to it ❞ Crimson lips purse together and twist to form a sarcastic smile before she’s nodding behind him. ❝ grab your coat. we’re going ❞