❝ And that's Marlowe - better known as Mar...❞
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𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐞. You rarely catch her without sand-covered skin and dark locks winded up from saltwater. Born and raised on the island, with a house that radiates...
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𝐔ncomfortable.
The ride back had been just that. Uncomfortable. Not a single one of them tried to break the tension either. They all kept quiet, pretending to be focused on some insufficient detail in the van, leaving the motor of the vehicle to fill the defeating silence.
And so, when the Twinkie finally comes to a stop outside the Greene residence, Marlowe immediately hops out of the front passenger seat, slamming the door shut while uttering a quick thanks.
She hears them drive off as she slants up the stairs of the porch. The drive had provided just enough time for her to calm down, yet the aftermath of the outrage is still somewhat present.
She greets her parents while passing the living room, fast enough to ensure they can't ignite another discussion about her whereabouts the previous night.
Once in her room, she lets herself fall back onto the bed. Her body sinks into the mattress, immediately hugged by her soft, lightweight down comforter.
For a few moments, the large squares in the ceiling work as her leading source of entertainment. And for the first time in a long time, she can hear her own breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Her fingers fidget with the pink bracelet decorating her right wrist, nails anxiously scratching the rough material. She lifts her forearm horizontally, blue eyes studying the old accessory. A faint wave-pattern runs through the middle, all the way around, the coloring just a tad darker than the overall pink shade.
Her hand then reaches for her pocket, pulling the necklace out by its golden chain. The heart pendant dangles helplessly in the air, and her blue eyes observe it as it sways slightly from one side to the other.
Her mind strays, and she's left overpowered by the strength of her own brain. She wishes to leave the space inside her skull blank. Hollow. Empty. For just a few moments, she doesn't want to think.
Yet, her head is racing.
She flicks the necklace back into her palm at the sound of heavy footsteps outside her closed door. Her first thought is that her parents are coming to offer her yet another lecture. However, as the familiar mess of brows locks appear in the doorway, she sits up straight.
