mortemodesta

@morte--modesta

{❤;; Friday night. Perhaps one of the only times that no reaper should ever be forced into doing overtime. It was bad enough on most days, but at the end of the week, going home is the only thing you’d want on your mind. Sarah didn’t particularly care though. She had no where in particular to go, and had no one in particular to see; the only thought on her mind was about that strong scent of liquor from somewhere else in the office. There was only her and some other man she’d only spoken too on a few occasions and he’d seemed nice enough. A little difficult for her to understand though. Maybe it was his accent? Must’ve been. But regardless, she was still determined to ask for even the smallest amount of alcohol; after all, it was one of the few things that kept her amused.

She’d been sat at her desk for the past half hour now doing almost nothing at all. The only thing keeping her childish mind occupied was a mere phase of daydreaming - something which occurred quite often when the little reaper was feeling bored. But that pretty little scent of alcohol was enough to distract her from whatever thoughts such a peculiar young girl could be having.  

And, of course, it wasn’t long before she went to investigate where exactly such a pretty scent was coming from. It didn’t take long, at all, either, considering there was only one other stuck doing overtime with her.

“‘Scuse me, Sir?~” She cooed, leaning closely over his shoulder, in a way which could easily be classed as unladylike. “Could I 'ave a little of that?~" 

.morte--modesta  watched you run

She’s been jogging. Or trying to, at least. With all the walking Emmanuelle does around the city she doesn’t need to, but there’s something about New Year’s Resolutions and trying out a routine. Even if it’s just for today and will never be repeated.

She pants as she slows down. Her run becomes a walk, and eventually she plops down violently on the first bench she sees. It even shakes underneath the force of her fall. There’s a dark-haired young man a bit too close nearby, but she looks away, face flushed and chest heaving with tiredness. She’s checking running off her list and never putting it back on again.

{ i’ve forgotten your 

      ❁ F A C E in the 

             *:・゚ snow  *:・゚

                       ◡of◡

                           december «« | a-l-b-u-s–genetrix | 

                                      | elizabethmidfordphantomhive | morte–modesta |

                                                           i’ve forgotten { your voice }, 

                                         and i don’t want to remember 。

—————————————————————————————————

–✿ Three guests at once – tantamount to a crowd for the frail redhead who’s naive eyes only gazed beyond her doorstep – had appeared awaiting a salutation. She hastily complied, dipping into an unpracticed curtsey. Her brows furrowed and her nose wrinkled just slightly, but a grin remained plastered to freckled cheeks. The girl of sunshine curls, the one she referred to as Lady Elizabeth, was certainly familiar. However, the duo of strangers accompanying her presence estranged Sophia.

–✿ “Hello,” she started. Her hand could not resist reaching to tangle a few fiery ringlets between her fingers. “How can I help you?”