The Revolutionary War ended almost 20 years ago. Many soldiers lost their lives while others managed to survive to tell the story, building their own families. Some had to go through grief and loss way too soon while others had the luck to live happ...
Chapter's song: Prom Dress - mxmtoon I Knew You Were Trouble - Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox, Tia Simone All of London is Here Tonight - Finding Neverland Careless Whisper (Acoustic ver.) - Annapantsu
Angelica brushed her silky raven hair as she stared at her reflection in the dressing table mirror after a long and well-scented bath that almost made her fingers wrinkle if her mother hadn't called for her to get dressed so many times, which she only did when Eliza gave her ultimatum.
She slowly stopped the action with her hand, feeling quite lightheaded and zoning out of her own thoughts, her eyes boring into nowhere specific in the mirror. She got herself startled when noticed she had been holding the brush frozen mid-air for who knows how long. Blinking a couple of times and shaking her head, she placed the brush down.
Bashfully looking up at her reflection again, Angelica slowly turned her face to the side to check her profile, doing the same to the opposite side before resting her chin on her palm with a loud whine.
"Gosh, look at my nose. Do I really look like this when people see my profile? And why couldn't I have green eyes like Frances? Mine are so boring... Just like two mud puddles." She thought, "What about my hair? All my cousins have such amazing hair, but me? Of course I had to stick with this super straight oily thing that only a thousand pins can hold a hairstyle up there- Ok, Violetta also has straight hair but not only she is blonde but her hair is super long too! And she also has blue eyes! How can I even compete?!"
She groaned at herself, balling her hands into fists and pressing them against her eyes.
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
"I guess I kinda get why he likes her more than me..." She murmured even if it pained her heart.
Angelica did notice how Georges would always act differently around her. It was in the way his eyes linger on her a moment longer than appropriate with those sweet eyes only he possessed. How he listens to her babble on and on about the fantasy books she had read with a soft smile, attentively listening and speaking at the right moments, instigating her into talking more. Or it was in the way she catches him smiling at her for absolutely no reason when he thinks she isn't looking.
She was amazed about how he always managed to grab her and guide her body back to balance whenever she tripped over something while she carefreely waltzed around, babbling about something unimportant, which happened more often than Angelica liked to admit.
Therefore, slowly, day by day, she found herself getting intoxicated by the idea of Georges longing for her. But he wouldn't. He liked Violetta after all. At least their friendship was good enough to fill that hole in her heart, this until Angelica started to feel replaced when Georges began to sneak away with the blonde without explanations. That annoying and strange discontent grew more each passing day in her chest until she exploded.
