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Sometimes it's good to reread old books, if only for the nostalgia it evoked. If indulgence were the word of the day then she could only name one besides chocolate and the ever incandescence lure of junk food and its name was Peter Pan. Ivy still heard the faint echoes of Jutka's voice late at night. Ivy still remembered two things even if it had been more than nine years since the first reading of the book: The directions to the Neverland, which never allowed her to get here no matter how many times she tried ("Second to the right, and then straight on till morning" was a curious way to give directions, Ivy had thought at the time), and the magical possibility of reviving a fairy. An indulgence for Ivy would have been to live as Peter Pan. She wanted to smile at his accusatory french fry but instead quickly put a stop to it- she could not become friends with this boy- What would her friends say? Better yet what would her father think? Her thoughts drifted for a mere second at the fun idea of bringing a Spanish boy home- one with no ties and nothing of worth (in her father's eyes) the look of disappointment and shame quickly shattered the prospect of the idea being fun. She wanted so badly to have him proud of her- it was quite sad. Ivy felt insecure under his gaze, so long she had been wanting for someone to look at her like he was, and now she was wondering how others handled it. Adverting eye contact she smiled (more so to herself), [color=ff325d]"I suppose you could be the tiniest bit right but as a child my only indulgence had been reading and painting." It felt odd for Ivy to share that much in fact it was odd for her to share any information at all not just with the Foreman boy but her own friends. No one was that curious of Ivy Collins so it never came into play. "And yes, junk food is not the best indulgence but one day I'll have to give it a go," it was more of a statement to herself that one day she would be a stronger person and she would have the courage to do as she pleased. The senior in heels and a perfect posture took another bite of her salad. She enjoyed salads. However, she was not in love with the item of choice but learned to appreciate its healthy benefits. Most girls were like her chewing down on something that did not carry more than a certain number of calories and while Ivy craved be so much more, she could not help but compare herself to other girls. The view was something ethereal and no where else on the campus displayed such a sight. The world was magnificent full of life, colors, and emotions. However, she wanted more then the sight of beautiful New Hampshire set in the winter time for she had witnessed it the last seventeen years of her life. Ivy wanted to ignore him, he was quite a chatterbox, and without verbal consciousnesses she told him such, "You talk a lot don't you?" It was not meant to be mean and yet at the same time she wished it would come off that way to him- there was not a need for friendship to form between them even if she were intrigued by him. After all the blond with bright green eyes was daddy's little girl and she was very obedient to his every whim. "The snow is nice within the first couple of times you see it and after at that I fear the wonder and amazement will kick into agonizing resentment. Winter just is not my season." It is because of her powers she says this. She thrives in the spring and summer when plants come to life and there is something enchanting about creating flowers with every step she takes. Winter inhibits such a thrill inside her because everything is white- just like the four walls of her cage (her bedroom) back at home. She also enjoys dresses and laying in the grass. She misses the green pastures and roses (which is the iconic flower of her). Ivy felt the question escape before she had time to conceal it. But it was the truth East kingston Academy had been the most exotic place she had been too and she wished so badly to trade places with the boy sitting across from her. A small silence filled the air before she spoke again, [color=ff325d]"I here Time Square is amazing and even more so at Christmas time." She wanted to tell him that he was lucky but Ivy held her tongue this time- wasn't she supposed to be the lucky one? With connections, wealth, and the fact she was going to be a graduate of London House with the promise of being accepted into any college. But in her eyes it did not seem so. Ivy wanted so badly to ignore the Foreman boy but could not- she found it irresistible to have someone to talk to who was not shallow and only cared about school drama. There had to be more to life then who shagged who. She lifted an eyebrow at his charming demeanor,[color=ff325d] "Are trying to flirt or do you normally look and smile at people that intently? It's sort of creepy, you should work on that." For Ivy the way he was acting was not at all creepy in fact it made her feel special to say the least. The sun was setting and yet she felt more awake then she had when she first came in here. Ivy finished her salad and set it to the side. Silence filled the air and she was glad at this. She peeked up at him from her drawing of the frosted winter lands only to discover he had finished the burger and fries and in Ivy's eyes it was quite remarkable. One day she would have to indulge in such a thing. Ivy watched him as he left making sure that as soon as he turned around she would be busy with her sketch book. Ivy wondered what it would be like between them if status was not a big deal to her father and to this school. The silence broke and she turned to him, "I suppose I do. My father thinks its a waste of time but I would call it an 'indulgence'- a healthy dose of freedom during a hectic day." She stopped to look back down at her unfinished work which did not seem perfect enough, "However, I'm a bit of a perfectionist so it aggravates me when I cannot get every single detail right." Ivy did not want to reply on his life, she did not want to know any more then what he had already shared, they were not friends, and therefore there was no need for personal exchange between them- she could only give him a mediocre conversation. Once they were done using the table they would leave in silence to never speak again...is that not how it was suppose to be between a Foreman boy and a London girl? And yet she wanted him to dig deeper into her personal life and he his- she wanted to know more about him- it was strange. IF THIS IS YOUR FOURTH OR MORE CHARACTER, PLEASE LINK TO A COMPLETED THREAD PER EXISTING CHARACTER. |
