|Smirking and smug from her position still lying across Belle’s legs, Tuscany’s gaze swept across the discarded DVD. There was some overly attractive, obviously too good to be true guy on the cover, but besides that she didn’t see anything she recognized. There was also a paragraph or two on it, and she strained to read it. Her bad sight started to set in, and she suddenly remembered her glasses. She had gotten them prescribed to her when she was twelve, about five years ago, and had always been much too proud to wear them. When she had been dragged into ‘pick what design’ she wanted, she had told her mother plain and simple that she would not wear them. The lady helping them had tried to help by saying that ‘it was not worth getting them if she wasn’t going to wear them’. Twelve-year-old Tuscany had repeated herself, and to this date never even opened the case. She had stashed them in a basket of stuffed animals that had not been there when she had returned during break from France. She could only assume that it had been moved to her basement – an area of her house she had never found use for – and never bothered to look for it. She assumed that when she returned back home it would be gone – off to some charity, she could only assume. Not that she cared, but it was just the type of things her parents would do and she couldn’t help but hold a grudge to them for giving her stuff away without her consent. Tusc sighed and stretched her arm out and wasn’t surprised when it was out of reach. She sighed again and dropped her hand back down, pouting slightly. “You know,” she started thoughtfully, kicking her legs a couple of times. “I’m turning eighteen soon… I think I might just buy a flat somewhere and not go home for the holidays.” Lies. All lies. She had just thought that up as she thought about her family. But now that she had thought about it, she liked the idea more and more. Most people took more time to decide what they were doing when they became legal, but that wasn’t Tuscany’s personality. She was more or less the type of ‘Thought it? Do it!’ person. Sure it got her into trouble, but that’s where Belle came in! And just like that, her mind was reeling off. She had already decided on what color her walls were going to be when she heard Belle start talking and she was suddenly aware that she had just made a completely random statement. Who really cares, though? Probably anyone. But Tuscany knew Belle didn’t.|
Her previously forgotten smirk came back into place and she laughed a little bit as Belle started to move. “Yes,” She choked out between laughs as Belle lifted her off the bed slightly as she moved. “Yes it is and I-” She interrupted herself by swearing as one of Belle’s knees dug into her stomach. She didn’t try to speak again until B had gotten her position under control and was now lying on her back. Once that was complete, Tuscany began to talk again. “And I need these lips!” She jabbed a hand towards her lip, which she was sure looked just as normal as usual. It really hadn’t bled for a long time, and she didn’t really care. It was just something to complain about and if she annoyed people enough, she was probably going to get into a fight. Of course, that was completely unlikely since it was Belle she was with. Not that the two never got into fights, because really. No one never got into fights, especially one of the two blonde dancers. Naturally competitive and both striving to be the best, tensions were high just about every day. They just happened to be pretty good at getting over it, something that was absolutely astounding to everyone except them. It was just a mutual understanding between them that started when they had met and even began considering talking. It was an uneasy truce that would – could! – fail them at any time. Maybe they weren’t even that close, and they were just too determined to let it be put to waste. Tuscany bit her lip slightly and reminded herself not to grimace as she bit her cut again. Luckily, she didn’t taste blood and her face returned to making a smirk as she felt Belle give a half attempt at pushing her off.
Tuscany felt Belle begin to play with her hair as the younger blonde began talking again. A soft laugh escaped her as she started up their game and she came up with a comeback easily. At least, if you could call it a comeback. It wasn’t scathing or hurtful or anything else people thought of at the word ‘comeback’. It wasn’t a come from behind anything and wasn’t used in an argument, but hey. Belle and Tuscany formed their existence on re-defining words. “Merci, love,” she joked, her words coming out deeply – fakely- accented. She wasn’t French in the least, besides spending most of her life there. “I only steal all my style ideas from the best! ” She grinned, rolling off of Isabelle and onto her back as well. “Namely you.” She added, tightening her abs and pulling herself into a sitting position. She swung her legs around so she was sitting cross-legged before leaning forward and grabbing the movie that she had wanted to look at. Yeah, the guy was defiantly too pretty to be real. She quickly read the paragraph that was there as well and smiled slightly. Yeah, leave it to Isabelle to pick something like this. It didn’t sound too bad, though, and Tuscany set the movie back down.
Without another word, she climbed off the bed and ran off towards the table where she’d left her stuff. Good hand-eye coordination made it possible for her to spend just about 2 seconds hooking the bag on her arm and grabbing the junk food before sprinting back over to Belle’s bed. She slowed on her way over, sliding just the tiniest bit on the floor. She dropped her bag onto the floor and nudged it under the bed with her foot; all the while giving Belle’s ballet shoes an amused look. She loved her shoes as well, but not to the extreme that Belle – and other girls, for that matter! – did. The best treatment her shoes got where being pulled out of her bag and set on top of it so they wouldn’t get all warped or something terrible like that. She loved dancing, really! She was just more realistic when it came to her equipment. She didn’t spend hours trying on leotards, either. She simply picked one and if it fit she bought ten of the same kind.