Post by Deleted on Feb 15, 2015 7:50:37 GMT
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TEMPLATE BY ANNECORDELIA
536 WORDS - red <3 - <3
[attr="class","edmess"]Many people were up before sunrise, others up mere minutes after. Antoinette was normally one of those people but today was a bit different. She slept in today because after all, it was Sunday. The only people who were up early on Sunday were church-going folk and the poor sods who had to work Sundays. She was neither of those. Antoinette was no church-goer because no god or threat of hell and damnnation meant enough to her to convince her to go. And her dead husband made her rich, so why should she have to work?
She laid curled up in her bed with her black German Shephard laying at her feet. Her eyes fluttered open, looking over at the clock that read 12:18pm in blaring red digits. At the first sign of movement, Fenrir jumped off the bed and onto the floor, wagging his tail and bounding around the room excitedly. The dog's blonde-haired mistress wasn't up and out of bed nearly as quickly, taking the time to stretch her weary body and check her phone on which there was nothing of interest. Just a text from a one night stand of hers that seemed convinced it was more than a one night stand. The young man wouldn't stop texting her, calling her, and leaving voicemails. Maybe she could pay him a visit with a plate of arsenic muffins. That would surely get him to leave her alone. "Thick-skulled shit sack..." she muttered as she replied back to his incessant texts with some colorful insults and a concise 'leave me the hell alone'. If only she could hire someone to kill that dense motherfucker. Oh wait...she could do it herself. She contemplated showing up at his house with a plate of her special muffins, or maybe lodging a bullet in his skull. It took about 30 seconds of deliberation before she made a decision. He sealed his fate by sending a text calling her a "whore, bitch, stupid cow" and many other things that made her lips curl into a dastardly smirk. "I hope you like blueberry muffins, my love" she purred as she replied with a false apology. Perhaps a death penalty was too harsh for an obsessive young lover boy, but her patience - as well as mercy - was scarce.
After feeding her furry friends - Fenrir and her Chinchilla, Noire - she took a shower, slipped into a form-fitting, knee-length black dress, Louboutins, and diamond jewelry. Her hair and makeup was done to perfection, leaving her looking like the lethal beauty she was. She grabbed her purse, bid Fenrir goodbye with a scratch behind the ears and made her way out of her lavish estate.
A short drive later, she arrived about a third of a block from the coffee shop, parking her car alongside the sidewalk. She walked down the sidewalk with an air of superiority, like everyone she passed were rats in comparison to her. She did indeed catch the gaze of several men as she walked towards the coffee shop, but did not acknowledge their cat calls and winks.
Antoinette was the type of woman to enter every place like Catherine the Great entered the Winter Palace; like she fucking owned it. Of course, now was no different. She ordered an iced caramel latte from the nervous teenage boy behind the counter who stuttered and stammered when he talked to her, so just decided to shut up all together. "Thank you very much, kitten," she said in her normal sultry purr, turning to sit at one of the vacant tables.
[newclass=".edmess"]height:390px;width:205px;overflow:auto;padding:5px;text-align:justify;[/newclass][newclass=".edmess::-webkit-scrollbar"]width:5px;[/newclass][newclass=".edmess::-webkit-scrollbar-track"]background-color:#fff;border:1px solid #2E373E;[/newclass][newclass=".edmess::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb"]background-color:#9b070f;[/newclass]She laid curled up in her bed with her black German Shephard laying at her feet. Her eyes fluttered open, looking over at the clock that read 12:18pm in blaring red digits. At the first sign of movement, Fenrir jumped off the bed and onto the floor, wagging his tail and bounding around the room excitedly. The dog's blonde-haired mistress wasn't up and out of bed nearly as quickly, taking the time to stretch her weary body and check her phone on which there was nothing of interest. Just a text from a one night stand of hers that seemed convinced it was more than a one night stand. The young man wouldn't stop texting her, calling her, and leaving voicemails. Maybe she could pay him a visit with a plate of arsenic muffins. That would surely get him to leave her alone. "Thick-skulled shit sack..." she muttered as she replied back to his incessant texts with some colorful insults and a concise 'leave me the hell alone'. If only she could hire someone to kill that dense motherfucker. Oh wait...she could do it herself. She contemplated showing up at his house with a plate of her special muffins, or maybe lodging a bullet in his skull. It took about 30 seconds of deliberation before she made a decision. He sealed his fate by sending a text calling her a "whore, bitch, stupid cow" and many other things that made her lips curl into a dastardly smirk. "I hope you like blueberry muffins, my love" she purred as she replied with a false apology. Perhaps a death penalty was too harsh for an obsessive young lover boy, but her patience - as well as mercy - was scarce.
After feeding her furry friends - Fenrir and her Chinchilla, Noire - she took a shower, slipped into a form-fitting, knee-length black dress, Louboutins, and diamond jewelry. Her hair and makeup was done to perfection, leaving her looking like the lethal beauty she was. She grabbed her purse, bid Fenrir goodbye with a scratch behind the ears and made her way out of her lavish estate.
A short drive later, she arrived about a third of a block from the coffee shop, parking her car alongside the sidewalk. She walked down the sidewalk with an air of superiority, like everyone she passed were rats in comparison to her. She did indeed catch the gaze of several men as she walked towards the coffee shop, but did not acknowledge their cat calls and winks.
Antoinette was the type of woman to enter every place like Catherine the Great entered the Winter Palace; like she fucking owned it. Of course, now was no different. She ordered an iced caramel latte from the nervous teenage boy behind the counter who stuttered and stammered when he talked to her, so just decided to shut up all together. "Thank you very much, kitten," she said in her normal sultry purr, turning to sit at one of the vacant tables.
i'll make the strychnine taste like raspberry tea
