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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Genevieve couldn't remember the last time she had read a book. As a child, the Brontë sisters, Jane Austen, F. Scott Fitzgerald and other key individuals in classic literature had engrossed her in the pages of their novels, but as her youth slipped away she became more preoccupied by... well, everything.
Genevieve's bare legs dangled outside of her bedroom window, swinging back and forth, as she sat on the ledge and read a book. To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, to be exact. Lily had recommended it to her over letters. The half-drunk cup of tea she had forgotten about sat next to her, the beige liquid still and cold. She was feeling too lazy to take it back to the kitchen.
The good thing about living on the coast, but far away from the main beach, was that it was always quiet. Sure, the occasional sound of a couple scolding each other, a baby crying, a dog barking may break that calm, but it always became tranquil soon after.
Unfortunately, Anna Lewis had a big gob. "Genevieve!" she yelled from the garden, scowling up at her older sister. Ever since she had found out what Anna had said to Jessie through Anna herself, Genevieve had taken the liberty of ignoring the girl. Anna groaned. "Gen, you'll fall!"
Of course Anna knew that Genevieve wouldn't fall. The brunette had been climbing the drainpipes to get onto the roof, or sliding down them to sneak off to the beach, ever since she could remember. She just wanted a reason for Genevieve to talk to her.
"Are you going to keep on ignoring me?" Anna shouted, waiting for an answer, but none ever came. "Look, I said I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to upset Jacob- Jessie-"
Genevieve couldn't find it in herself to listen any longer. Her sister's shrill voice had become nothing more than a painful ringing in her ears, and she wished for it to stop. She glanced at the cup of tea next to her and raised an eyebrow.
"- Maybe I was a tad more harsher than I should have been, which I admit was wrong, but-" Anna abruptly stopped talking as what felt like a barrel of cold tea was poured onto her head. Begrudgingly, she wiped the drink from her eyes and slowly glared up at her sister. Anna stormed inside while ringing the tea from her hair, making no move to argue.
Genevieve was confused that there had been no retaliation, not even a single screech of negativity, but didn't question it. She soon realised why her sister had seemed so casual when the door to her room was kicked wide open and almost fell from its hinges.
Rage twisted Genevieve's face. "Get out," she ordered sharply.
"But I want to talk to you!" Anna said.
"The feeling is one sided," snapped Genevieve. "Hey, maybe you could send Jessie a letter and talk to him instead! You seemed to love the last conversation you had."
"I really am sorry, Gen," Anna pleaded, regret burning in her eyes, "I didn't want you to be sad."
