 Kaplinski Rival Sorting Hat Machine
Seeing the sour look upon his face, she started tapping at the window, frustrated. No-one said he had to like taking care of her, but looking that disdainful made her feel unworthy to be the mud on his shoe.
Sighing, once again, she wrapped her cloak around her tighter, trying to prevent her teeth from chattering. It was intensely cold outside and the rain lashed against the windows, hard. It was so hard, being in this position. Being torn from the only ones who you ever loved and being propelled into the arms of the people who feel nothing for you but hate. |