Suffocating

Enfold; VI

The thing about what made disguises work that most idiotic bitches didn't realize was that it was only forty percent about the disguises.

The real deal came from acting like your disguise.

Bella Blake Donna walked with uncaring stride. Her shoulders were straight and broad, yet her eyes never seemed to gaze up. Her lips were always pursed down, and her eyes, heavy. It gave her more of that 'fuck off' attitude, along with her dark-themed and darker-colored clothes.

People stayed away from her. And for good reasons.

Random Starbucks Hippie Girl, on the other hand, wasn't anything like Bella.

This bitch had her hair dyed bright pink, and didn't wear glasses. Her eyes, bright blue, were painted with green and purple mascara and long lashes. She wore too much blush because she wanted to look cute. She wore a cut-off jeans and a loose sleeveless hoodie, with nothing underneath it but a sports bra, and she had a couple of 'exotic imported' bracelets she said were from India and Bali and Thailand but were actually from Chicago.

Random Starbucks Hippie Girl didn't walk, she skipped. She didn't order just any drink, she ordered the most pretentious, weirdest mocha/espresso/frappuccino blend with all kinds of juices.

Random Starbucks Hippie Girl didn't get to take the drink because she had some hippie stuff to do, so, she ran outside before Claire could look at her.

Bella, during all of this, slipped a message in the counter, telling Claire to hurry the fuck up and meet her behind the Starbucks building right when her shift had ended.

Claire's shift ended at exactly 4.

It was already 4:27, and Claire hadn't gotten out of the store yet.

That bitch.

Didn't she know they only had a few minutes, now? The spies- they would regularly check up on Claire every forty minutes, never to do anything, just to observe, in case the bitch goes haywire.

If they saw Bella with Claire - a disguised Bella, nonetheless - even though Bella wasn't assigned to do her own check-ups on Claire, then...

Bella checked her watch as soon as Claire emerged from the building, with her hair tied, resting on her right shoulder.

Four minutes. They only had four minutes.

She better make this count. No diddle-daddling. No pitter-patter. No bullshit.

However, when Bella really looked at her, she couldn't help but snort. "Christ, you look horrible as fuck."

And Bella really meant it.

Claire's eyes had bags, and she looked disheveled, surrounded by the dirty walls and the plastics surrounding them that no one bothered to pick up. She reminded Bella of Garcia whenever the orphanage was dealing with some kind of problem, or if the kids were making a huge mess that cost huge chunks of money.

Those same tired eyes, dulled down as though someone had lowered their saturation. That mouth, curling down right at the edges, looking like it'd always been there, like it didn't know what a smile was.

Claire glared at her. And even without the bitch's super telepathy mind reading shit, Bella could tell that Claire was on edge, unease. Her shoulders, rigid. Her posture, stiff. Her jaw, pulled back. Lips, pursed.

Yeah, Claire was suspicious. Mad, even. Mad at what, exactly? Mad because Bella wanted to talk to her? Because Claire owed her, big time, and now that Bella finally wanted to get even, Claire couldn't accept it?