Teen Ink
teenink
TeenInk I posted a new photo to Facebook http://t.co/Y2aXGHv5cc
Tue May 21, 2013 9:08am Reply Retweet Favorite
TeenInk "I'm a firm believer in Karma." - Emma Watson in Sofia Coppola's The Bling Ring featured at Cannes Film Festival... http://t.co/AtwVoR8xyT
Wed May 15, 2013 1:13pm Reply Retweet Favorite
TeenInk "If I fall asleep with a pen in my hand, don't remove it — I might be writing in my dreams." http://t.co/0FUP7fyJcB
((On a random note, this year, I may single-handedly destroy Vallentine's Day >.<))
He nodded. THat name made perfect sense for a Storm Angel. Come to think of it, his made sense too, especially for a Blood Angel.
(How, may I ask?)
Tempest sighs, shutting the door behind him. "Now then, might I ask how a Bllood Angel had ended up on my roof?"
((Easy, I will destroy every Valentine's candy, every gift, every stupid carnation anyone has. I will single-handedly make every couple wish they hadn't dated. Ugh!))
"Umm, I flew?" What else did she expect? Did she think he climed up there? Please!
(I'm not sure whether to laugh or be worried about that. XD)
"Well, obviously. But why here?" she presses, narrowing her eyes. "According to the Light and Dark Angels, the Blood Angels are out to destroy me. So what if you're not the only angel hybrids now? I'm something completely different."
"Do you believe in astounding coincidences?" He gave her a grin that was sure to somewhat get to her.
((Needless to say, it's not a favorite holiday of mine))
(Certainly not my favorite either. One of my boyfriends broke up with me on Valentine's Day.)
"Well, yes... and no," Tempest says, frowning slightly and carefully setting another log in the fire. "It depends on the situation. This is not one I could believe as coincidence."
((I've never liked it. One year, I decided to do something for it. I got my girlfriend a necklace, a dozen roses, and a card. I figured it was the least I could do; she was supposedly pre.gnant, and although it was positively not mine, I decided to stick around for her and the baby. Not only did she lie about that, she cheated on me the same day.))
((That's why decided to not even bother with the holiday any more. Last year, some girl got me a carnation from the school. I wish I knew who it was. It was kinnd of creepy. The past is the past, and the present is my plan.))
"Too bad." He looked at the sky, expecting to see a hundred Blood Angels swarming around to kill them both. "Good Lord..."
"What?" Tempest asks quietly, frowning over at him.
He shook his head. "Nothing, nothing at all." He was rather paranoid for an assassin, wasn't he?
Tempest shakes her head, sitting on the couch and hugging her knees to her chest, just watching the fire. For now she was calm, alert and ready, but otherwise completely relaxed it seemed.
HE stood there, eyes closed. His one wing hung awkwardly, and it hurt like he.ll, but he'd probably be alright. It would take time though. If the Light Angels or anyone checked up on the Storm Angel, he'd be like a turtle on its back. Screwed.
"You can sit somewhere," Tempest says after awhile, gesturing at the chairs scattered about the room. "I might be able to heal that wing later." And maybe find out what the he// is going on here. If he's an assassin, why hasn't he killed me yet? Or maybe he's a rogue, but still...
He shook his head. He was a little conflicted. He wanted to kill her, to rip the life from her body. Yet he couldn't. He was having trouble figuring out whether it was even the right thing or not.
Tempest sighs softly, running a hand through her hair. "Can you tell me anything about yourself? Your real name, where you're from... Anything?"
"My name's Scar." He was reluctant to even part wit hthat piece of information.
"Ah... Is that short for anything? It seems as if it would be a fitting name for a Blood Angel," she says lightly, hoping that by pretending she hadn't guessed practically his whole story that he would give up the information without much resistance.
"Umm, I'd rather not speak about it." He fell silent. He would NOT tell her his real name.
