o. 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖
❛ but if you have a minute why don't we go
talk about it somewhere only we know ❜
previously titled cloud nine !
─ in which 𝐬𝐡𝐞 finds herself thrown into the bizarre world of the maximoff family ⋆.ೃ࿔*:...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
KAMILLE DIDN'T KNOW WHY HER head pulsed with an excruciating ache as her eyes wrenched themselves open, the heavy weight of the previous evening's late night escape from reality through numerous glass holy grails of alcohol numbing her ability to think in any sort of straight line, or even that of a two year old toddler's first doodle.
Her clothes were the same as yesterday's, the simple fabric mimicking that of the sixties style, and she smiled tiredly at the lack of nightmares from the sleep she had fallen into, though the contant numb ache of unfamiliar grief remained to asphyxiate her slowly.
She groaned, yesterday's snobbish affairs now in full focus. "For the children, my arse." She scoffed in remembrance.
Happy Wanda, happy Westview ─── something Kami had quickly noticed since the redhead's pivoting arrival in the small town just two days prior.
It was rapidly becoming stranger, an eerie lack of control within not just Kamille's entire being, but seemingly that of the whole town. Kamille, in fact, could not remember why she was still in Westview. She did not live there, and she definitely had not had her own designated room in her Grandmother's home, which she had been visiting briefly whilst in the area on the Monday that Wanda and her husband arrived in the small community.
Something in a far corner of her conscious was compelling her to ignore any suspicions she may have, to carry on with her life as she would if it were absolute perfection, which, Kami had to admit, was pretty tempting.
She glared at the ceiling one final time before sweeping the soft duvet aside and swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She hadn't expected the weight she bore onto her lower body to suddenly crumble and leave her in a groaning, frustrated heap beside her bedframe, but there she was, in all of her morning angry glory.
She didn't anticipate choice in wardrobe as Westview itself seemed to pick for her ─── not that Kamille was aware of anything more than natural, lazy suspicion on her part.
And so, Kamille stood staring intensely at the flares that were spread out in front of her, wishing it would morph into that pretty skirt she saw in the shop window the other day.
