
WRITTEN BY SIFFANY.
firefly prompts

jaw clenches as lips curl into a manufactured snarl
of sorts. of course – no need to turn back; run away, that’s what
she’s best at, after all… right? right.
❛ why are you telling me what i already know? ❜
“Aren’t you a precious thing. What’s your name, sweetheart~?”

well, precious was one way to describe her, she
supposes. ( and yet she does not find that usual fire within her to
retort sharply; something, perhaps, about this woman that inhibits
so. )
❛ – j- jessie. ❜