[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:1.2;font-size:9pt;"]Sweet, slow-paced pop music played in the background as Coyote sat at her vanity, staring blankly at her reflection as she perfected the curls at the ends of her blonde hair. Her manicured nails brushed through her ashy strands, softening the curls she had just set, her head tilted in focus. They laid flawlessly against her lace trimmed bustier, every tendril intentional, every hair seemingly perfected; she would not feel herself if they were not. Rising from her chair, Coyote approached her walk-in closet, ensuring her outfit was equally idyllic. The mini-skirt that adorned her left little to the imagination, and her Mary Janes shone with a sweet demeanor. The pairing was just as intentional.
She had always been a mix of innocence and vulgarity, both in appearance and temperament. Flowy skirts that challenged their extents, babydoll dresses with black lingerie underneath, sheer fabrics that barely covered what needed to be. She was a frequent target for stares and attention, a great deal self-absorbed or demeaning, but Coyote never seemed to mind this. She craved the attention, adored the stares, felt almost grateful in a sickening way for the affection of strangers. Her sweet persona made many feel welcome to approach, but Coyote, despite finding thrill in their efforts, never let them so much as touch her. Everything was ever intentional. She knew the game and played it masterfully. Despite often acting the opposite, Coyote was no fool. She presented herself innocently and sweetly, but there was another side to herself- jealous and obsessive, violent and vulgar. And she masked it well, most of the time, but it had always been hard to resist indulging, especially as she grew older.
Still, even Ángel did not fully know the extent of this. Her outbursts were limited around him, the desire to please him grappling with her easily-swayed temper. She enjoyed playing the part of the oblivious, doting girlfriend if it meant receiving his affection, however equally limited. Despite her ever calculated appearance around Ángel, she adored him deeply. Loved him even, although she would not scare him away by saying it. It had slipped out a few times, when his eyes seemed to burn into hers and his grip tightened, but they both ignored it, pretending it had never been spoken, at least not with intention. And every time he would pull away, Coyote felt herself only desperate to pull him back, even if it meant diminishing herself in some way.
But what of it? She had always been told she was too intense. This was no different.
The sound of an engine caught the girls attention, and she exited the closet after picking up one of her favorite designer handbags, courtesy of Ángel, tucking her phone into it after checking the time. He was running late, but it was no surprise nor disappointment to Coyote. She knew how he afforded the luxuries he spoiled her with, like one she currently resided in or the one upon her shoulder, and she didn't like to ask questions. As long as he returned back to her without injury, Coyote did not demand any answers from him.
Exiting her complex, she watched as the hellcat pulled up to the curb, her heels clacking upon the concrete sidewalk. A soft smile spread across her plush pink lips, and her dark eyes brightened. "Missed you," She'd chime as she slid into the passenger seat, picking up the stacks he left for her with an affectionate tilt of her head. She leaned over and placed a kiss upon his cheek, her hand brushing his jaw sweetly. "Thank you, baby," The blonde murmured as she sat back. "Look-" She paused to brush her hair from her chest and straightened up slightly to display her new Vivienne Westwood top, "It came! Do you like it?"
/ omg no worries it’s perfect! <33
She had always been a mix of innocence and vulgarity, both in appearance and temperament. Flowy skirts that challenged their extents, babydoll dresses with black lingerie underneath, sheer fabrics that barely covered what needed to be. She was a frequent target for stares and attention, a great deal self-absorbed or demeaning, but Coyote never seemed to mind this. She craved the attention, adored the stares, felt almost grateful in a sickening way for the affection of strangers. Her sweet persona made many feel welcome to approach, but Coyote, despite finding thrill in their efforts, never let them so much as touch her. Everything was ever intentional. She knew the game and played it masterfully. Despite often acting the opposite, Coyote was no fool. She presented herself innocently and sweetly, but there was another side to herself- jealous and obsessive, violent and vulgar. And she masked it well, most of the time, but it had always been hard to resist indulging, especially as she grew older.
Still, even Ángel did not fully know the extent of this. Her outbursts were limited around him, the desire to please him grappling with her easily-swayed temper. She enjoyed playing the part of the oblivious, doting girlfriend if it meant receiving his affection, however equally limited. Despite her ever calculated appearance around Ángel, she adored him deeply. Loved him even, although she would not scare him away by saying it. It had slipped out a few times, when his eyes seemed to burn into hers and his grip tightened, but they both ignored it, pretending it had never been spoken, at least not with intention. And every time he would pull away, Coyote felt herself only desperate to pull him back, even if it meant diminishing herself in some way.
But what of it? She had always been told she was too intense. This was no different.
The sound of an engine caught the girls attention, and she exited the closet after picking up one of her favorite designer handbags, courtesy of Ángel, tucking her phone into it after checking the time. He was running late, but it was no surprise nor disappointment to Coyote. She knew how he afforded the luxuries he spoiled her with, like one she currently resided in or the one upon her shoulder, and she didn't like to ask questions. As long as he returned back to her without injury, Coyote did not demand any answers from him.
Exiting her complex, she watched as the hellcat pulled up to the curb, her heels clacking upon the concrete sidewalk. A soft smile spread across her plush pink lips, and her dark eyes brightened. "Missed you," She'd chime as she slid into the passenger seat, picking up the stacks he left for her with an affectionate tilt of her head. She leaned over and placed a kiss upon his cheek, her hand brushing his jaw sweetly. "Thank you, baby," The blonde murmured as she sat back. "Look-" She paused to brush her hair from her chest and straightened up slightly to display her new Vivienne Westwood top, "It came! Do you like it?"
/ omg no worries it’s perfect! <33