knowsdeath:

               beauty  stood  before  her  in  a  skirt     _{&   with  brown  eyes .  blair  waldorf  living   &   breathing .  her  fingers  tapped  against  the  table,  nervously,  still  looking  into  the  eyes  of  the  girl  in  front  of  her .  a  friend .  a   good   friend .  maybe  …  slightly  …  more   ?   or  was  it  simple  attraction  that  confused  her  image  of  the  world .         ’   do  you  want  to   sit   ?   ’}

          _{@destinaticn​   /   sc .}

            _{moody impotence drums beneath the surface of ivory skin:  her vociferate of big-city ornamentation met time and time again with small-town melancholy,  where all was dull and gray and monotonous.   (  except,  of course,  ELENA GILBERT  who was, in blair’s eyes, the only thing golden enough to keep the town from dulling into gray abstraction.  she slumps,  taking her seat beside the second brunette,  skirt flaring and lower lip pursing into a pout that would fit better on the face of a toddler.}     ❝    _{i miss new york.   i miss living in a CITY instead of a VILLAGE.}      ❞  yet another   _{huff falls from berry-tinged lips as her head falls mindlessly against the shoulder beside her.}   ❝    _{my dad invited me to visit him this weekend —— you should come.}      ❞