@murphysgirl
"Nice people don't kill people." A tear clung like a pearl to her lashes. Her heart ached.
You killed Seven, a voice whispered in her head.
She pushed it away.
"Nice people don't kill people." A tear clung like a pearl to her lashes. Her heart ached.
You killed Seven, a voice whispered in her head.
She pushed it away.
"Nice people aren't hypocrites either." She retorted
"I don't know what to think anymore," she said, putting her head in her hands. A sob wracked her body.
"Listen… You should always give people a second chance."
(Side note: Nyx blames herself for the death of someone she grew up with, who was basically like a brother to her. She's not to blame, of course, but she's really sensitive about death and blame. She hasn't forgiven herself, so the idea of second chances are foreign to her.)
"A… second chance?"
Maybe you should.
She opened her eyes.
"Yeah!" She said, hoping it would work
"A second chance."
The words felt strange in Nyx's mouth, like someone else was saying them.
She stood up.
"Maybe I will."
"Okay then!"
Nyx walked down the darkening street and to Vozreal's mansion. Taking a deep breath, she walked up the steps to the porch and knocked lightly.
Vozreal answered the door.
"Yes?" He asked
Nyx tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, teal eyes cast downwards.
"Um," she said awkwardly. "I'm sorry about… before."
"It's fine! Come on in!"
"Are you sure?" She fiddled with her bracelets.
"Yes I am!"
She stepped into the front hall nervously, not meeting his eyes.
Nyx's stomach growled loudly, and she jumped back slightly, turning bright pink.
"You want some food?"
"Oh. Yeah, I do." She shuffled her feet awkwardly.
He made some really good food (I love it!)
Nyx curled up at the dinner table and ate. Her eyeliner was smudged, her mascara almost gone, and most of her black lipstick had washed off, revealing the dark brown of her lips. A branch had torn her white jeggings, revealing a cut on her leg; her hands were scraped up as well.
You look injured!"
She looked up at him, teal eyes wide. "Oh, it's - it's nothing." She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jean jacket.
He helped heal her injury
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