diamondribs

"Baby, it's cold outside..." Kovarev smiled to himself, settling down into the warmth of the quaint little coffee shop as snowflakes fell languidly to the ground outside, coating the world in a blanket of white. The coffee shop's windows were frosted from the cold outside. But inside? Inside was toasty as could be. Delicious smells of gingerbread and other pastries wafted from the kitchen in the back, permeating the air and making it feel even more like the holidays, if that was possible. The old radio on the counter crackled as Baby, It's Cold Outside ended and Let It Snow! started to play. Kovarev began to sing under his breath. "And

"I'm not fucking doing this!" "Must you carry on like this?" "Yes, I must! As long as you continue to force me to go through with this, I will carry on like this!" Corinne massages the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply, "Bellanca, relax." "I will not bloody relax!" Bellanca throws the bouquet of black roses she was clutching across the room. Huffing, she throws herself into the red velvet loveseat in the corner of the expansive room in the back of the cathedral. Corinne expels another sigh and drops into the lounge chair opposite the loveseat. She eyes Bellanca, who's face is dark and angry like the blackest rain cloud, from behind the

Blue sky. Vast, vibrant and never-ending. And the clouds. Fluffy and white, like clumps of cotton candy in the sky. He liked the sky. Thought it was beautiful. Serene. Calming. A slight smile works it's way across his face as he gazes out of the massive window in front of him. "C'mon, Damien, let's go!" His smile falls from his face almost instantly and he gulps. Tightening his grip on the backpack slung over one shoulder, he turns to face his counterpart. Dalton looks impatient, and jerks his head towards check in. "Hurry up," he huffs. Damien nods slightly. His eyes are wide, the terror in them unchecked. Dalton turns on his he

She glares at him across the table. He merely smiles back. The tension in the air is thick, and she can feel it. It weighs down on her and only serves to aggravate the frustration she already feels towards him. Judging by the look on his face, however, he doesn't feel the same. He's got a dreamy smile on his face, as if completely oblivious towards her mood. She narrows her eyes even more, if possible. And he just smiles more. If possible. Frustration mounts. Her only thought is: 'Why won't he say anything?' He continues to sit and smile. Gaze at her in that loving fashion. Glare. Gaze. Glare. Gaze. It's infuriating, yet it does

It's dark. But then again, it's always dark. Dark and damp and gloomy. Sunny days, the ones with glaring sunshine and cloud-free skies, are a rarity in these parts. But she wouldn't have it any other way. She observes the two individuals bickering before her from her seat in a rickety old chair a short distance away. The argument is fruitless, but she's amused anyway. Although, she's careful to mask her amusement behind her usual lofty indifference. Her posture is lax, fingers loosely coiled around the gun in her right hand, back curved. Her relaxation is deceptive; should anything escalate, she would be ready to spring into action at th