I WAS SURE ABOUT ONLY THREE THINGS.
♦️First, Kal was an angel -- even if he was sexy as Hell.
♦️Second, he would hunt down and kill every last demon in London, myself included.
♦️And last, I had fallen hopelessly in love with him.
~
TROPES:
✨ Enemie...
The little sneering voice inside my mind is called Lisa, and I hate her guts. She's always quick to point out whatever she thinks I'm doing wrong, or all the ways I'm embarrassing myself. If she were a real person, Lisa would be infuriatingly perfect. I imagine her as a cross between Head Cheerleader and Millionaire CEO:
♣️She's one of those effortlessly cool girls who can walk around wearing oversized hoodies and huge messy buns and still somehow look glamorous. Whenever I attempt to pull that look off, I turn positively vagrant-like.
♣️ She has no scars, needless to say, or acne or pimples. She doesn't need to exfoliate or put moisturising cream on because her skin is always so smooth. Like bloody porcelain, in fact.
♣️She never wears make-up because yeah, she's naturally beautiful, okay? But not in an overly feminine, slutty sort of way. No, no. Lisa is classy, and she owns it.
♣️She's the sort of girl who always manages to have a comeback ready and has no problem standing up for herself. Whenever someone has a go at me, I just stand there looking gormless while seething inside. And it's not until, like, two weeks later that I'm struck with the most marvellous thing I could have replied.
♣️She has all sorts of talents. Natural talents, of course, what were you thinking? Training and working hard for something is for losers. I hate really talented people, by the way. Well, Lisa here ice skates and pirouettes most beautifully in this wonderful little white matching skirt and jacket. Oh, and she paints watercolours and has her own art gallery.
Basically, she's a pain in the arse.
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