solid gold, fourteen carat, barely burnished despite twenty years of hard molling. but beneath it, i knew, beneath that gold & stardust, she was all grit and sharp teeth gnashing, head twisting, talons out, tearing flesh.
make me queen
private, selective, independent blair waldorf.
or i'll make you bleed
you have to decide who you are, little girl, she told me once. once you know that, everyone else will too.
He watched her head to a table and rolled his eyes, the familiar click - clack of her shoes following him as he headed for the counter to get them coffee. “ I’m from the south so coming to school in a white sheet would be a little tactless. It would be like you traveling everywhere on a palanquin and wearing a tiara.”
❛ not what i meant . ❜ brief eye-roll , tiniest choke of air exhaled as a scoff - ❛ what’s wrong with tiaras ? ❜ not that she’d ever actually wear one to school , or anywhere that wasn’t at least labeled with a white-tie dress code , but the waldorf heiress fully intended on wearing one at her own fairytale wedding - tastefully , of course .
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