Ruffling through her purse, she took out a compact. Lia scrunched her mouth left to right, and blinked to see if her face looked more than decent in the small mirror. Even sol-hols have their limit. Once she noticed all she needed was a lip gloss retouch, she turned to Alison.
It’s always nice to meet people who desperately know what it still means to have fun.
She twirled the lipgloss stick around her fingers, a grin on Lia’s face akin to a cheshire cat. Her voice with a playful tone, she asked back: “What’s on your mind?”
Alison shrugged nonchalantly before twirling, once, twice, for seemingly no reason. It was mostly for the fact that she found it easier to think when dancing, it seemed to clear that constant fog of worries and fears that occasionally clogged her thinking pattern.
She stopped spinning on the spot rather abruptly, her gaze shifting from the clouded sky to the somewhat bustling streets of San Fransisco. She had a vague idea of better hang out spots, for one, there was the pier that was always alive at night–while completely tacky and extortionately touristy–it offered a much welcome change of pace. “Have you ever had the Original Clam Chowder?” Alison asked, with a slight grin. She hadn’t really been a fan of chowder before she moved to San Fransisco, but now it was one of those things she couldn’t go long without. “I know this place which is open twenty four hours.”
lia-nelson reblogged this from lightengale-archive-blog and added: “Yeah, I’m sure! But I can always sol-hol a nifty swing to carry you on or change into a bird!” Laughing at her own...
lightengale-archive-blog reblogged this from lia-nelson and added: Alison tried not to seemed shocked by the quick running, it wasn’t unusual or anything–super speed was common, it just...
