❝ darling, let me trace the lines on your tattooed heart ❞
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〚 highest ranking: #471 in romance 〛
〚 copyrighted 〛
〚 cover made by the lovely cadetcarswell 〛
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❁ ❁ ❁
My feet crunch against the autumn leaves as I walk down the street, the cool September air causing me to pull my scarf up over my mouth. I pull out my phone and scroll through Instagram, snapping a quick picture of the trees for it. Taking pictures is part of my daily routine. Although they don't compare to snap shots of the Amazon, or the Savannah grasslands, I take pictures of anything and everything I find beautiful. And, well, today there is a small family of birds in the green tree outside my house.
I quickly post the picture and stick my phone back into my pocket as I round the corner, climbing up the stairs to my house. I unlock the door and open it up to see a woman standing there, clothes loosely thrown onto her body, hair a mess. She is slipping on her stiletto heels when she sees me and gives me a disgusted look.
"Who are you?" She asks, hand on her hip. She eyes me up and down as if I'm a rat from the gutter.
"One of this house's residents. I live here." I reply, moving my scarf away from my mouth.
"Mark didn't tell me he had a girlfriend." She scoffs and rolls her eyes at me.
"I'm sixteen years old. I'm his daughter." I smile sweetly and extend my hand out. "You must be Miranda."
She raises her eyebrows. "Who?"
"Hmm, there was a woman here yesterday named Miranda. You know, she looked a lot like you, except...prettier."
