The part of Rosalie that conveyed how truely tired she was, was her eyes. They were almost a duller shade of brown than usual, and fixed sleepily on the door in front of herself. In one hand, was cradled the book Professor Mao-Macdougal had given her to read. The other reached up to rap on the door softly.
Yawning, she stepped back, and waited silently for an answer. Indeed it had been a long day. Over the course of it, she still hadn't managed to find shoes, but she was no longer in pajamas, nor was she in her uniform. It contradicted her strict no-uniform-out-of-class policy.
She was wearing a shirt her mother had purchased for her on their trip to Seattle Washington, an oriental style shirt. It had a high colar, and cap sleeves. Each hem of the shirt was lined with silver, on the front was a silver and green design that involved flowers. Her pants were an old pare of black dress pants that had been kept in an admirable state.
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“Who are you to judge the life I live? I know I'm not perfect and I don't live to be.
But, before you start pointing fingers, make sure your hands are clean.”
Marti Adele Carter Werewolf Support Services - Cambri Mikaila Hale 14 Slytherin |