12-11-2020, 12:03 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; color: #494949; font-family: karla; font-size: 9pt; letter-spacing: 0.2px; word-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 10px;"]janelle doesn't want to move on, but a distraction would be nice, wouldn't it?
what better a distraction than the leader himself? he's suave, charming. one flash of that smile could easily have the most resilient woman falling on her knees. he, in a lot of ways, was what julian wasn't but wished he could have been. sure, both men had an alluring presence about them that was almost too good to be true, but theodore knope had the power and admiration to back it up. he actually got there. julian was forced to put those ideals to bed the day he killed his brother. he seemed a lot angrier than that. he wondered if things would have been any different if he would have made it. guess she'll never know.
all she knew was here , right now. trying to move herself away from the somber thoughts that encompassed her. the bass pulses throughout her body, extending her neck out so she's looking at the ceiling, as if to soak it in. it works, because she doesn't notice teddy. someone touches the small of her back and at first , she thinks it's the douche from the bar making yet another attempt at pursuing her. only, that's not the voice she hears. instead, it's the voice of the badlands leader himself. she considered herself to be a resilient woman, but teddy's voice alone does something to her. her body's response to him was something that could only be described as primary instinct, and one interaction with him alone, although she would never admit it to him- much less to herself - could send her spiraling the rest of the night. she tries not to be a fool, to keep him at arm's length. fun is fine, but fun can turn into misery just as fast. she knew how she was around men like him.
janelle turns to face him. he's a disheveled mess, but somehow it makes him look just as hot. "i thought you were someone else, knope, i almost fucking decked you." her words are halfhearted, her lips twitching into a coy grin. she reaches out to shove him- playfully - although her hand differs on his arm, hand tightening just slightly before she drops it. "i'd like for you to dance with me," it's not a question, rather a statement. she knows he expects her to. he's searching for an affirmation he knows more than likely will come. but for her, it doesn't. a least not yet. "are you asking me or telling me?" she asks and although her flirtation still carries, there's an almost challenge in her tone.
what better a distraction than the leader himself? he's suave, charming. one flash of that smile could easily have the most resilient woman falling on her knees. he, in a lot of ways, was what julian wasn't but wished he could have been. sure, both men had an alluring presence about them that was almost too good to be true, but theodore knope had the power and admiration to back it up. he actually got there. julian was forced to put those ideals to bed the day he killed his brother. he seemed a lot angrier than that. he wondered if things would have been any different if he would have made it. guess she'll never know.
all she knew was here , right now. trying to move herself away from the somber thoughts that encompassed her. the bass pulses throughout her body, extending her neck out so she's looking at the ceiling, as if to soak it in. it works, because she doesn't notice teddy. someone touches the small of her back and at first , she thinks it's the douche from the bar making yet another attempt at pursuing her. only, that's not the voice she hears. instead, it's the voice of the badlands leader himself. she considered herself to be a resilient woman, but teddy's voice alone does something to her. her body's response to him was something that could only be described as primary instinct, and one interaction with him alone, although she would never admit it to him- much less to herself - could send her spiraling the rest of the night. she tries not to be a fool, to keep him at arm's length. fun is fine, but fun can turn into misery just as fast. she knew how she was around men like him.
janelle turns to face him. he's a disheveled mess, but somehow it makes him look just as hot. "i thought you were someone else, knope, i almost fucking decked you." her words are halfhearted, her lips twitching into a coy grin. she reaches out to shove him- playfully - although her hand differs on his arm, hand tightening just slightly before she drops it. "i'd like for you to dance with me," it's not a question, rather a statement. she knows he expects her to. he's searching for an affirmation he knows more than likely will come. but for her, it doesn't. a least not yet. "are you asking me or telling me?" she asks and although her flirtation still carries, there's an almost challenge in her tone.
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: center; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 1.4;"]I'M [I]HIGH AS A PRIVATE JET. â€â€