Post by ophelia m. jugson on Sept 13, 2011 2:32:29 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/20gfl1v.jpg); padding: 30px; border: #2D2729 solid 30px; ] her dress whispers reckless  WORDS 881 OUTFIT TAGGED OPEN NOTES MEH A LITTLE SHORT OH WELL Ophelia tugged the hem of her skirt down for what seemed like the hundredth time since she had left home. With every step, she could feel the smooth seams of the silky fabric slowly creeping back up her thighs; and, only a few moments later, she would tug it back down once again. She really wasn’t sure why she was so worried about it. A few more inches of her long legs showing was probably the least disastrous thing that could happen in a dress with as many cut outs as the one she had on. She just knew that the first time someone bumped into her, she was going to come tumbling out of her top; but that’s what she got for letting other people dress her if you could even call it a voluntary thing. All she remembered was hearing something about her skin tone before the dress was practically forced over her head by one of her friends. It definitely wasn’t the first time that this had happened, but her friends’ clothes did seem to be losing more and more material as they got older. The one good thing she had going for her at this point was that she actually had the curves to fill the hip-hugging dress out, but that was something she would never, ever admit to herself. Anyone else looked at her would see a mess of brown curls and tan legs that went on for days, but all she saw at the moment was skin, skin, and more skin. For the first time in months, Ophelia and her friends were actually out on one of their girls’ nights. Now in their second year of college, the group had found it more and more complicated to sleep thanks to all of their work let alone go out on the weekends. It was really nice to be out with them again after so long, but it seemed that no amount of time could change the way that their nights turned out. Almost the instant they walked in the door, the group of girls had scattered. One of them headed towards the bar, another going to fix her makeup in the bathroom, and the rest disappearing into the mass of throbbing people crowded on the dance floor. She was left standing there close to the entrance fidgeting with her dress and making the tops of her thighs even redder than they already were from her clasping her dress down on the way over here. It was a very rare occasion for her to be out like this even when her friends did go out on a regular basis, and she knew she wouldn’t get another chance to do so for quite some time. Ophelia was determined to make herself enjoy this while she could no matter how uncomfortable it got in the process. She really hoped that she didn’t look as completely out-of-place as she really was, but she was pretty sure that standing right by the door probably wasn’t helping her much with that. She crossed her arms across her abdomen, reluctantly letting the dress do what it wanted as she wound her way through the thick crowd of people that blocked the way to the bar. This would be the time that her top was about to be ripped clean off of her, but she somehow managed to come out on the other side in one piece despite rubbing dozens of sweaty, grinding people in the process. It was like a breath of fresh air to be standing in front of the bar even though it was crowded as well, but at least there weren’t quite as many people touching her now. ”Huh,” she huffed to herself as she looked at the many bottles lined up along the counter. She had forgotten what alcohol looked like while she was locked away in the library for such a very long time, and she had also forgotten that all of them pretty much look the exact same. When the bartender walked over to her a moment later, she was still standing there with her mouth half open as she tried to decide what she should even get. Before she could stop herself to think of something logical like Jack and Coke or even water for that matter the words ”I want something blue” had poured from her mouth, and bartender had already busily started mixing together something she was sure was going to knock her on her ass after two sips. ”The perfect shade to match that dress,” he said as he slid it across to her. With a smile and a thank you, she picked up the glass and made her way back towards the crowd of people. The liquid burned the minute it touched her mouth, warming her from the inside out, but somehow it still managed to taste just like blueberries so she suffered through the rest. She had no idea where she was even going right then, but she was fairly certain there was no such thing as aimless wandering in a place like this. So, she just kept on making her way across the floor, her dress forgotten and nothing on her mind but what color drink she should order next. this moment on she's done |
TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY HEY MONDAY[/center]
