Fia laid on her best friend’s bed backwards, hair hanging off the end and her feet in between the pillows. “I don’t want to go back to Beauxbatons. Don’t make me, “she pouted, looking at Evelynne upside down.
“You say that every year,” The brunette muttered as she flipped through her folder of coursework. Fia groaned and tossed the pillow at her, missing Evie by a long shot. Evelynne rolled her eyes and scribbled down something on a parchment. She knew it was best to ignore Fia and let her whine about her life until she stopped. It was her sort of ferberizing.
james-macfarland replied to your post: Probably… this weekend? Or later. There’s no rush or anything.
Okay.
Okay.
This weekend! Yes, let’s do that.
We should probably find places to start looking?
Yes, that’s a good not knowing what to say. And, I’ve given my landlord notice, so… that’s all squared away!
Already? Really? Wow. I didn’t even have to nag you. I don’t… I don’t know what to say.
Life is like dancing. If we have a big enough floor, many people will dance. Then the music will change and some will get angry. But that's life, because it's changing all the time whether we want it to or we don't.
