⁷ clementine

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✼  ҉  ҉  ҉  ҉  ҉  ҉  ҉ ✼
ESCAPISM.    ―     act one
˖*° cₚₜₑᵣ ₑᵥₑ
ˎˊ- cₗₑₘₑₙₜᵢₙₑ

    ―     act one                  ✧˖*°࿐   cₕₐₚₜₑᵣ ₛₑᵥₑₙ      ˎˊ- cₗₑₘₑₙₜᵢₙₑ

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ATHENA was shocked to see how empty the coffee shop was that morning. The usual morning crowd had seemed to all have slept in.

As she waited in line, she bounced on her toes. For being rather short in stature, Athena held an abundance of energy fueled by coffee and carbohydrates. She had quickly learned that the coffee at her new office tasted of bitter metal and opted to stop by the corner shop for now on.

"Hey Hart," Marcy Lane greeted as the blonde stepped up to the register. "Your usual, I'm guessing?"

That made Athena grin. Marcy Lane and Athena Hart never talked outside of the coffee shop, always leaving a counter between them. Yet, little interactions like this is what bonded them and that was enough for the ex-undercover agent.

"You know it." She winked, passing over her card and heading over to wait for her order on the couch. The little shop was almost like a home, with a brightly colored couch and a coffee table stacked with magazines and knick knacks. A half finished puzzle sat beside it, waiting to be completed. The atmosphere smelt of roasting coffee and fresh pastries. A light buzz of jazz music played over the silence that Athena sat in. It was comforting.

Pulling her legs into a criss-cross position, she opened her copy of Hamlet that was stored away in her bag. Athena had been a big reader all her life, finding that in her darkest times, reading sucked her away into a different world. Shakespeare, poetry, and really anything would do for her. She often only had access to old english books or stories like The Secret Garden or Anne of Green Gables.

Fairytales were a constant theme in her childhood. Apollo had often made them their own crowns and swords out of cardboard, like a real princess and knight in shining armor. The younger twin would always say his sister should be the helpless princess in the tower, but Athena would immediately turn down his idea when she would attack him with her own wooden sword.

Hamlet had grown to be one of her favorite novels after her father had gifted it to her for her ninth birthday. From that moment, she had read over it a million times and often had it on hand with her.

She had always been fascinated with Ophelia, having wished her parents named her that instead of Athena. Ophelia was a wonder, a woman who had been told she wasn't worthy to be loved. Without ever knowing what she truly looked like, Athena already thought she was beautiful.

ESCAPISM, spencer reid Where stories live. Discover now