*·˚ ༘ ➳〔 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 〕 ࿐ ࿔*: ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
-in which a sad and
scared princess finally
takes her revenge and
in doing so, falling in love
with her partner who isn't
so fond of her.
❝ revenge never felt so
...
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╰─▗▘➤𖥸 PRETTY LOVE PRE- DESCENDANTS TWO
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YELENA AND MAL WERE BOTH IN NEED OF a vacation, and Mal suggested they go to Yelena's true home, New Orleans.
While they wandered the streets of New Orleans, the aroma of steamy food made its way inside their nostrils, their stomachs growl.
Mal was fascinated by everything she saw, they lights brightened up the dark street, quiet tunes passed their ears as some people sat at their homes, speaking with their families.
"I have never seen something to mesmerizing," Mal mumbles, her eyes not being able to stay still on one thing, the lights reflected on her silky purple wavy hair that fell down her back.
"Come on." Yelena held out her hand for Mal to take, "let's go somewhere I think you'll like, it's more quiet there." Mal didn't hesitate to take her hand, a smile on her face.
As they walked down the streets of New Orleans, Mal took in everything she could, not even realizing they were standing in front of the best restaurant in town, Tiana's palace.
Once they entered the restaurant, a warmness hit their skin, causing their body to become less tense as they heard the light jazz music displayed in the background.
Their were only few people in the restaurant since it was basically midnight and it was starting to close, but Yelena being the owners daughter, she had a privileged to stay as long as she liked.
"Hello, Mrs. Homes," Yelena greeted Gloria Homes as she wiped down empty tables. She was around her early twenties, tawny beige skin and light brown eyes, a hard working women who somebody wished to open her own restaurant, She reminded Tiana of herself.
"Yelena?" Gloria smiles, "I didn't know you would be in town, I would have cooked you a fresh apple pie, I could still do it if you like," She told, giving Yelena a warm hug.
"I would appreciate that," Yelena chuckles lightly, "how's your son? Still getting into any trouble?"
"When is he not?" Gloria laughs, placing the rag on her forearms, "I'm gonna go get the pie ready, you ladies have a seat."
