She kept to herself most of the time, unlike her family, who loved showing off to their friends. (𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧𝙨) She felt suffocated by the way of living, of course, it was nice. Never having a worry in the world, surrounded by art, beauty, and any book she could get her hands on.(𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨) It wasn’t until she met him, did she feel alive. They spent the entire summer together, her new favorite activity was him. Drinking wine and reading Keats in his lap, watching the water lap as the sun’s crest touched the water. (𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙚𝙩) These were the days she loved. It wasn’t a sexual attraction, but the idea of his life touched her. She found herself truly alive in his arms and the day he left, France was left cold and empty. A change in the air around her. (𝙊𝙝, 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙩) There was no longer any wine and Keats, but scotch and Poe. How was she supposed to live like this?
𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐚 𝐈𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞.
Just a twenty-year-old young woman, who stands at the height of 5’4 trying to make her way through university alive in her home country, France. Studying English Literature with a dabble history in there. An avid fan of black coffee and red wine while listening to her records on repeat, possibly while smoking and reading a good book. A kind soul, forever a hopeless romantic. Especially has a love for making her professor’s question their loyalty towards their wives (𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙛 𝙬𝙚’𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙩). Damaged with daddy issues, but will say she’s fine. If asked, her favorite activity would be shopping or having sex in unpractical places (𝙙𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜). *𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.*