Post by nyx desirée labelle on Jun 5, 2011 18:23:34 GMT -5
I T S Y O U & M E & A L L O T H E R P E O P L E & I D O N T K N O W W H Y
I CAN'T TAKE MY EYES OFF OF YOU
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Just another day, another lazy evening and another attempt at becoming comfortable. Nyx still couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to run as fast as she could away from here, but this was her new home. She had to learn that maybe, just maybe, she was safe for once. Still, that instinct to keep her bags packed and watch every dark alley still loomed in the back of her busy mind, ready to kick in if neccessary. Nyx knew he was after her, he had kept calling her on her old cellphone, which she promptly threw away and bought another when she got to the town, but he had no idea where the hell she was. That was about the only peace of mind Nyx had nowadays about him.
"Vente chai tea latte, no water, no foam, cinnamon on top please," She asked the tiny waitress at the front counter, a pretty, pixie-like girl with ash blonde hair. She nodded and hurried off to fill her order, practically bouncing about like she had springs in the soles of her blue Converse. Why you would choose to wear Converse while working in a coffee shop, she had no idea. But apparently that was the way this little thing liked to work. By the time she was done Nyx had the money out and ready to pay her, slightly impatient with the time it took her to fill the order, though Nyx was generally impatient with everything. She handed her the cup filled with steaming hot chai tea and took the money as Nyx thanked her, and she quickly punching numbers into the cash register to give her the change left over. As soon as she was done and began taking an order from the customer next in line, she found a stool at a counter, setting her bag there and taking a seat.
The redhead took a sip of her latte before pulling a sketchbook from the large bag, as well as a new iPhone. She never really went anywhere without either, losing either would definitley bring about the apocolypse. High heels were set gingerly on the footrest under the counter as green eyes inspected the phone nonchalantly, browsing through a large library of music that seemed endless. Nyx spent more time listening to music than anything else, it was her sanctuary when she needed to just forget everything and relax. She listened to music to suit her mood, and had a variety to choose from. From country to rock to classical, she listened to those and everything in between, besides the screamo music that was uncomprehendable. Why would you want to listen to constant screaming about how horrible your life is and how much you want to die, anyway? Actually, who wants to listen to screaming at all?
She took a look at the perfectly manicured nails on her fingers, inspecting them before going back to the massive amount of music, scanning through the artists, brushing a stray red hair from her eyes behind her ear. Nyx looked good today, not the slightest trace of exhaustion or a hangover in sight, definitley a change. She had spent the night at the bar, and, as per usual, it was a fun time. What could she say, Nyx was a bit of a slut. And, as per usual, the guy she slept with had given her a nasty remark about her scars. Those scars that covered her body, mainly her back, she had been told that it looked like someone ran a large cheese grater down it. She wore things that covered them as much as possible, though the smaller ones on my arms and legs were hardly noticeable and could easily be shown. But her back was Nyx's pet peeve, a harsh reminder of why she had to keep running, why she couldn't trust anyone with her heart. She would not get hurt again.
Finally, finding a suitable song to fit her lazy and relaxed mood, Nyx put her earbuds in and hit play, pulling the pencil from her bag and opening the sketchbook to a new page. She designed women's clothes, it was another artistic release she could access at any moment, and also make a career out of. Sure, she could sing and dance, but that was part time. If it happened to get her anywhere, great. But for now she was concentrated on design. She was in school for fashion, and she loved it. Before her father died, Nyx had enjoyed school. But as soon as her mom moved them to New York City, it was evident she would not be spending as much time as she used to in a classroom. She never did drugs, but ran with a tough crowd. Robbing, ditching, partying, getting drunk and fucking were all the usual in that crew; they were like a family. They gave her something to escape to when Trevor joined her real family, people she could stay with when she was too afraid to go home. Of course, Nyx never admitted that she was afraid, nor that Trevor was abusing her so harshly. She wasn't that big of a coward, and Nyx could handle things on my own.
The sharpened tip of the pretty girl's pencil hit the paper, drawing the elegant lines and shapes of an evening gown. It would be crimson, with a low neckline and straps, detailing done with black beading and lace. If it was ever made, it would be a beautiful dress for a fitting occasion. Not one Nyx would wear, for the back was cut in a V down to the hips, but someone else would look fabulous in it. Fashion was an art to Nyx, a way to express who you really were without saying a word. A simple accessory could say so much about your likes and dislikes. It wasn't just about looking pretty and fitting in, it was to make yourself feel better about who you truly were, and who you wished to be.
Finally she looked up from the drawing to take another sip of her latte, which had finally cooled enough for her not to scold herself with it. The soothing warm sensation tickled her throat, a content sigh escaping after she had swallowed. Caffene didn't make Nyx wired, like it did most people, it seemed to put her at ease and calm her nerves. She had never been a fan of straight coffee or tea, but chai tea lattes were perfectly fine. Nyx could feel the heat moving down her throat into her stomach as she searched through artists again, picking instrumental music. Ludovico Einaudi's 'Nuovole Blanche', to be exact. It was a beautiful melody, done in piano. Now Nyx could play the piano, but never as good as Einaudi. She played the guitar better, and in middle school had learned the violin and recorder, but hadn't picked up either in a while. She didn't particularly want to pick up a recorder again, either. She'd much rather throw it into the ocean to permanently stay silent.
Taking a quick sip again, she looked around the rather empty store, which earlier had been filled with quite a number of people. It was around dinnertime, though, so that was probably why only she and another couple of people were in the store. The pixie blonde who was behind the counter was just finishing her shift; Nyx watched her hang up her apron and grab her purse, hurrying the hell away from the counter to the door, like she had some boyfriend to meet for a date. Go figure.
Nyx looked back down at her drawing again. So far, she was content with the way this drawing was going, besides a few little details that could be fixed later. Flipping the page, she began drawing her old backyard. The lilac trees blooming, her old dog Chester playing with her mother, before her mother lost her senses, of course. The tree swing that Dad used to push her on when she was just a young girl. And before long Nyx was lost in thoughts, trapped in her own little world of memories that were long gone that she desperately wanted to go back to.
Nyx wanted her dad back. She wanted to be able to hug him and here him tell her everything was alright and that she was safe, like he used to. Even still she had some of his old sweaters, and an old photo album we made when she was turning sixteen. That was one of the last things her dad and her did before the crash. The pictures of the scene were awful, and the funeral was worse. It was the worst day of her life, having to say goodbye to him for the final time. People called her heartless because she didn't cry at the funeral or wake. What they didn't know was that she locked herself in her room for days, bawling her eyes out and wishing she could join him. Just a couple weeks after they moved to New York, where the real fun began. And now she was here, still thinking about the tradgeties of her life, and what could possibly lie ahead.
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STATUS // finished
TAGS // open!
WORDS // 1574
OUTFIT // HERE
LYRICS // You and Me - Lifehouse
CREDIT // this superfantastical template was made by ZOESTOLEYOURCAT of caution !
